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.

Monday, October 24, 2016

Employer Circuit

Follow my tracks, employer-wise it seems. I work for employer C currently, and worked in the vineyard for employer B for the last two years. Two of the employer C staff visit the tasting room of employer B and tell me about their wines. Fine, but not a coincidence as they would of needed an appointment in the first place, so it would not of been a "drive by" happenchance. Then my work colleague while at employer B of this past growing season goes to work at employer D as a cellar hand in September. And as it "so happens" employer C hires a blonde woman from employer D last week. And she is near identical in stature, over 5' 10", to the blonde woman they hired at employer B for the harvest season. Though I don't believe she is a morph-over as she is from New Zealand, but one never knows for sure. All very circular it seems to me. [Added later; while at employer B (two seasons), the cellar hand there formerly worked for employer C].

I am now back on PC#1, after #2 suddenly got infected last night, and lo, I take it in and PC#1 is ready. I pick one up, and drop one off. Convenient. A major stalking scene though, and even the friendly guy at the laundromat "happened" to be there in the parking lot and held me up for a few minutes of chatting time before I entered the building where the PC tech is.

I worked much of the day on grape receiving, next to the conveyor-hopper that takes the grapes into the de-stemmer and then onto the crusher. Such reminds me of past conveyor line work at various farms; I have done daffodil bulbs, pumpkins, potatoes and carrots on other past employer's conveyors. I have no idea why the perps find moving so many biological objects past me at a measured rate is just so important to them.

No grapes today... rain in am.

Why am I constantly fucked with? Things snag, hang up, fall down, spill or otherwise fuck up at 10x the pre-abusive onset of 04-2002. And if I have only one hand free, one can be absolutely sure that the imposed adversity will prevail and then I must inconveniently free my other hand up and attend to the problem. And this especially notable when attempting passage through doors and gates.

Then if that doesn't infuriate me enough, they screw me around doing my winery work; I get all the steps right at first, and then successively they scramble my head as to forgetting steps, or doing them twice. Fucking hell.

Toilet blocking again... WTF.... then reblocked once I had cleared. This brings me back to the days of 2002 to 2011 when they blocked toilets on me nearly every time. Then in early 2012 they suddenly relented.

A half day at the winery; tending to barrel ferments, punchdowns, some by hand even. Then onto pumping wine from the bottom of the tank and hosing it into the top. Don't ask why sometimes it gets sprinkled over top and other times hosed in. Anyhow, the winemakers were all over this tank in terms of tasting it once I had finished this particular pump-over.  (They sample from a sampling port).

A day off, which was nice to mellow out and do some more reading on cancer, as this is a condition I have been stiffed with since diagnosed since 06-2016. Very thoughtful of them, and then thrusting me into this rabbit hole of colossal denial that is the work of the Cancer Establishment, who seem to exhibit no particular interest in solving the problem, only suppressing promising research they haven't approved. And too, if a interesting approach is approved, e.g. Provenge autogenous vaccine, why, they give it the kiss of needless adversity (or death) by only allowing it for "advanced" cancer. Lets make it worse to see if we can make it better.

A great show by two members of Blackie and the Rodeo Kings at the Dream Cafe last night. Part of a fundraiser as it seems that the co-op management some was asleep at the wheel as the bank informed them they had no funds remaining. They shut it down in early October, and the musicians last night performed for free to try to keep it going. We shall see.  I went about 4x/year, and always saw great music, but I have no idea as to how such businesses do, especially is such a smaller town.

Enough for the week, and to start a new one on Harassment Road.

Sunday, October 16, 2016

Supplement Circus

Monday, and a day of fucking hell; attempting to fill barrels in another room 120' away. It worked OK for a gravity feed but then I had to use the pump and just when one filled, the other did too. I think I had 5 red wine gushers on the day. Plus catching shit from the boss on the pump not pumping and the line back ing up and the pump leaking. Nice that they let me do this on my own.

And for the prostate cancer I am stiffed with I take paw paw. All the products I take from this one company arrive withing two days of my web order, except paw paw..For some strange reason I must email someone  and it arrives two weeks later. And lo, if my planning somehow didn't get screwed up, or else the perps stole some from my remaining stock, but it was run out just ahead of this long Thanksgiving weekend. Time without fail, the perps run out my supplements when I need them. In this case, it is anti-cancer supplements, and the assholes still pull this shit off. Which might be what the whole cancer deal is about;  lets  obstruct the victim's access to more critical supplements this time, just to up the (macabre) humor angle and vex the victim all the more.

I got my snow tires put on this morning, no doubt a big perp deal as they have screwed me out of being so prepared for winter driving for the past four years until now. Used snow tires on used rims, both acquired in a summer time visit to Kelowna. Funny how getting both purchased on one day some 70 km away was so convenient with such foresight. And where did this foresight come from as the perps constantly screw me over in being prepared for anything. Given their obsession with natural rubber and all the more when it is being rotated why am I not surprised? Back in the days of public transit, they constantly parked their shills and operatives over the wheel wells, and nearly always have me sit just behind the rear wheels.

A wine deluge at work today, but it wasn't me that was involved thankfully. The other forklift guy got in too tight to a tank and nudged the  man  hatch and  lo, if it didn't open and wine came gushing out. It took three of them to jam it back once they got the electric forklift out of the way. The winery design is way too tight, and I don't fault the driver one bit. The electric forklift couldn't be charged up no matter how much we cleaned it, so it is kaput. He drove the other forklift over the rest of the day,  and  wasn't put in the dog  house like  me, see below.

My nascent forklift career is now on hiatus. Last  week, after being told to back it up from the hopper, I did not drive it ine), the mast, extended only 2", contacted the (too low) overhead door and dented it. It took a few minutes to free the door up, but it worked fine thankfully. And of course it was in front of the boss and the others, and so no forklifting for me he tells me. Even those who weren't there seem to know that I am not allowed to drive it now as they never ask  me. Weird, and all the more curious as I have been working around forklifts for 8 years, and two weeks into getting some  real experience I get cut oof this this set up (IMHO).

And if yesterday's wine (water) fall wasn't enough, why, it was my turn today. I was doing a pump back and getting some help and grapes got stuck in  the narrow opening of the hose. The 2" hose of wine suddenly kicked out of my hand, the blockage released, and lo, if wine didn't shoot 20' horizontal, just near the boss. I got the hose back in the tank, I was up the ladder, and so it goes; more wine mess,  this time in a jet stream. So far, geysers, deluges, and now a horizontal wine jet stream.

Sunday, and a day off. Not from harassment of course, as the assholes were up to their pranks, one being blocking the toilet, perhaps for the second time this year. I don't know what started that one, but from 2002 to late 2011 they blocked the toilet nearly every time I took a crap. They even blocked it once when all I did was pee. Then when I moved to Penticton in early 2012 they blocked the toilet a few times in the first three months, but it was the first major relief in 10 years. I was living in a motel suite then. I moved to a shared house after that, and all was fine for the first week, but after that they started the toilet blocking again, which didn't work in a shared situation of course. Eventually I got my own place, and the assholes relented again. They always do a few first at each new residence now, and then back off. (And at work too). So I was surprised today that after 3.5 years living here that they pulled a toilet blocking stunt. Maybe it was a "we are watching/screwing you" reminder, though I hardly need that.

And after watching a series of short videos on paw paw discussed by the major pharmacology researcher, I went to watch an hour long video by the same person. But no, it wasn't allowed;the assholes pulled a Firefox black screen stunt and I could not see any of my open web browser tabs. I was in a total inflamed panic, and in the course of solving the problem, why the video cut out.

Similarly, this evening they pulled a sabotage stunt on my music system. This morning I tried to access the hard drive in the docking station from the Oppo player, and lo, it worked. So I listened to a 5 CD classical set for most of the day, and even turned it off for lunch and resumed it in the afternoon. Later in the evening I turnes it off again before heading out to the supermarket, and when back, I turned it on again, and now it won't find the hard drive for crissakes. So, I say FU, and play the same music from the small dedicated audio player that I have. Which was probably the whole point of it, as the so like to mix up what device my music comes from. Never mind that that also screwed me out of updating the portable player's files, which was the original intention before finding that I needed to use it.

Enough for now, as my free time is much curtailed and I haven't been keeping up on this daily like I want to do.

Monday, October 10, 2016

Another Just-Happened Traffic Accident


Not, not traffic accident that I was involved thankfully. But we have already done this one, read, Car Crash of the Fat People posting. This time it was another Unfavored demographic group as  the vehicle occupants, negroes being featured. (Rare here). Three of them standing on the adjacent traffic island with their vehicle with the front end smashed up in mid-intersection. Somehow their vehicle didn't make the L hand turn off Highway 97 (Green Ave crossing) and smashed into something else, though I did not see what it was. I was held up at the traffic same traffic control with enough time to see one of the negroes flipping his dreads L and R in some kind of animated head movements. The police arrived behind me and put on their (de rigeur) flashing red and blue lights, and I managed  to get through with minimum delay. Funny how these just-happened accidents "happen" to Unfavored demographic groups.

All of the above was preceded with heavy vehicular gangstalking, especially at every turn.

A call from in-town (Victoria) brother at 0030h. The news was that our father died some 60 minutes earlier. And before any readers go sentimental over such, please be apprised that living in the First Feral Family means that all of them are quislings, and now one less. He has been in a care home for the past seven years, and with Alzheimers. He didn't have a clue who I was for most of those years. I didn't think the perps would terminate him for all the abetting he has done on their behalf for all of my 62 years. But as they have been grinding down his cognitive faculties, for at least the past 15 years, I suppose his run is done, and the thankless perps have mercifully taken him away. As if his First Feral Family treachery wasn't enough to swallow, my indifference runs deeper, read on. (Unconventional proviso; assuming this whole deal  hasn't been spoofed).

Getting slapped in the face by him countless times, very often in evening home tutoring situations when I "just didn't get it", (arithmetic then), aged 9 thru 12, put a decided chill on any kind of parental bond. (Though he wasn't alone in this department). In my teens I came to reject his obsessive, ossified and unrealistic perspectives, one by one, hence more emotional disassociation. He always figured I should  be a medical doctor even if  my grades started going down after age 12, the curse of learning disabilities with my ADD-Inattentive subtype. (Not that any remotely clinical cause was ever suspected by him or my mother). When I came  to later understand the whole of pre-med studies culture, the compassion component, and the rarefied smarts it took to get admitted to medical school, it just astounded me. And it still does; how could any parent be so totally out of it as to the glaring discrepancy between my mediocre abilities (and grades) and the decidedly accomplished level it takes to get to medical school?  Well, he was totally clued out, and as well, caught up in his own obsessive loop without room for any reality validation. Add in later obsessive and low-reality based advice I received over the following decades, and he was very much on my "auto reject" information filter.

Anyhow, his accomplishments were there in his earlier years; a wonderful figure and watercolor painting artist, though he largely gave this up by 1970 for reasons I have yet to understand. (And if fact, the best times I had with him were when aged 4 to 8, drawing and painting with him). In a rough Welsh coal mining  town he won a scholarships all the way to Cambridge University, UK. He was a RAF navigator on Lancaster bombers in WWII (Squadron 166 for war buffs) who won a George Medal for his heroics that brought a crippled aircraft back to safety. Then a PhD in Geology from McGill, Montreal, the beginnings of the "lost years" the perps laid on me, and I am still trying  to find out where I was and what was done to me. He did original geological exploration in the Sukunka region of British Columbia, that later became centered by the Tumbler Ridge community for coal mining. His geological work was for the BC government, and his survey treatise with accompanying maps was accepted into the BC Provincial Archives.

After he tired of government work, he went consulting on coal exploration, though I sense that he didn't work well in a collaborative environment, that is, engaging with others. He then worked claims on his own and that proved to be of sufficient worth which paved his retirement to a comfortable level. All his $40k/year fees and expenses of the care home never came from his capital. Anyhow, the whole deal is over for him, and living in the "cognitive-gone" land wasn't any kind of quality of life. I hope to never repeat that experience, not that I have near the cash to do so.

One interesting vignette related to him and what I now know as the "lost years" aged 2 to 5. About 20 years ago when I was near mid-forty, he mentioned that he taught me Gaelic, his native born language in S.Wales. I was totally flummoxed then as to why I had no clue as to why I could not even recall his language instruction/interaction, let alone any of the language. Well, this must of been during the "lost years", aged 2 to 5 y.o. as I since came to know them when the perps let me in on this component of this despicable travesty in 2004.

A day at the winery; one of the mainstay co-workers has gone into a terse grumpy state, and doesn't fail to mention my failings, the odd time I get stiffed with forced "forgets". Fucking tiresome to say the least, and haven't we done this before in the long past?

At the winery job I wasn't kept as scrambled and forgetful as yesterday that goodness. Perhaps this was faux (planted) "reaction" to my father's aforementioned demise. Believe me, I wasn't thinking about it very much, and if the notion was planted, it passed by quick and without any emotional registry. The perps had me in mortal fear of doing work there of late, because so much new was coming at me, and much of it inconsistent at times. Today, more training and patient instruction. Wonders never cease, good and bad.

Sunday on on this Thanksgiving weekend.

Studying alternate cancer treatments; Gaston Naessens developed 714-X cancer treatment in combination with his somatid theory and extra powerful microscope and got hauled into court in Quebec in 1989, and won handily. (Read "The Trial and Persecution of Gaston Naessens" by Christopher Bird). This anti-cancer treatment is available in Canada but one has to get it under a special permission on "compassionate grounds" when all other treatments fail. (You know, cut, burn, poison and otherwise hammer the piss out of one's immune system). BUT, the manufacturers of 714-X state that it is best used in early cancer diagnoses (that would be me, prostate cancer as of 06-2016). Like WTF; can we say government sponsored atrocity, one cancer patient at a time? What am I supposed to do? Depart from Canada and go to Mexico for a Canadian developed and manufactured anti-cancer treatment program. Guess so. It just pisses me off that the intense political machinations over getting cancer treatments are in my face, but of course this has been going on for 60 years or more.

Anyhow, I work tomorrow and so I should be posting this for the week.

Sunday, October 02, 2016

New Job

I started my cellar hand job today, and the town was replete with extra vehicular stalking. The helicopters came to visit me there more than twice, and even the E. Indians came by for a stalk-by, if not expressly and rudely loiter in my proximity.

And of the 8 co-workers, I am the only one who speaks only English. All the rest speak French; some from France and some from Quebec who are fluently bilingual. It is kind of like the winter time situation where the perps had for me to work among E. Indians in the vineyard for the past two years; to be predominantly surrounded by language/speech that I cannot follow. What is in it for the perps I have no idea.

Then with a complement of French personnel, some from the mother country and some from Quebec, that too must play into the perps' objectives.

And then the perps started up their metastasized cancer games, shooting sensations up to the middle of my back, and then down to my knee. Why they had to start this up again when I thought it was done back in July, I have no idea. Back then, the two scans indicated no metastatization of my prostate cancer, the perp's gift of June 07 this year. Sometime in August the sensations dropped off and I assumed it was a transitory perp stunt. Now it has the makings of yet another takedown intiative.

On the French Canadian angle, reading a book titled "The Trial and Persectuion of Gaston Naessens", by Christopher Bird. The the real reason was to learn about his discoveries of cancer origins and cancer cure. On goes the jigsaw of inter-related perp themes; the French Canadian angle, and as of this year, cancer. (I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in June).And of course, the entrenched medical dictatorship, termed by one congressmen as the "meanest monopoly on earth". You better believe it.

Third day on the job, and I have a great bunch of folks to work with. I haven't had that in close to 40 years, going back to my summer time forestry jobs. Mind you, interaction is limited because of language differences.

And they even let me use the forklift there; two years I worked at the last place and they would not let me for some pathetic reason.

A forced forget at work; admonished by boss, but kindly though. A total set up as I was doing everything fine on this task two days ago, and suddenly a brain fart.

A busy day at the winery job, and more elvated responsibilities; They let me drive the fork lift to feed the hopper for the grape crushing. Navigate it through the aisle of tanks, lift it up, but not too high as to contact the overhead catwalk, and then rotate the bin carefully, not all at once. At the last job site, only the most senior and experienced forklift driver was allowed to forklift, pallets cases of wine. Where I am now, they have at least two much more experienced forklift drivers at their disposal, but gave the job to me, a rookie.

And still the observation holds at this new work site; all are nice people, all 9 of them.That is an unheard of statistic in the last 30 years of working for me.

10-01-2016 Saturday
Visited Kelowna, aka strip mall city, to attend the Prostate Support Group meeting. I chatted with the facilitator, he having organized this for the past 20 years. According to him, paw-paw, the herbal that I have taken for the last month, "won't do anything".  Nothing like cancer and child rearing to bring on everyone's opinion. Today's speaker spoke about ED; an interesting presentation. If not a bit macabre, as the speaker referenced that he had an inoperable brain tumor, and mentioned it again to take the potential misplaced humor component out of it.

The perps polluted me with notions of ending this whole gig all the while, and in the least, kept me in a bummed out state all the while of the meeting and afterwards.

I stopped at two stores, kept the financial impact low. One is a used bookstore that has CD's for $4 or less. I was back in Penticton by noon, and went to the farmer's market and got skunked on finding spring onions. Which meant sending me the two blocks looking for it and having the cluster fucking Fuckwits step in my way, come at me and offer no way around them, stop dead in their tracks to create an impasse and the rest of the obstructive crowding behavior I have come to know first hand.

Had lunch and then listened to my first CD of  the purchased ones today, and lo, the assholes put me into a 2.5 nap attack after some 15 minutes listening time. Talk about punching a hole in one's afternoon.

Haven't we done this before? Back in 2012, about two months after the viticulture training (3 month course), I started into a new book, one of the classics of viticulture. About 20 minutes into reading the nap attack came on and it was all-time doozy; a 4.5 hour take down with no prior sleep deprivation or deficit.

And the perps had me purchase a 2 CD opera set today. I never listen to opera, and never buy it. But "for some reason", was compelled to do so.

Later a knock on the door, then the person takes off; but wasn't my landlord, though he was walking toward the landlord,s house. (No public access to my door here, a perfect perp harassment preventative). A woman was standing there at the house and waved to me, though again, it seemed that she wasn't the landlady. I have no idea who these people were, and why one of them had to knock on my door and then screw off. And for the record, there was no prior yelling or outrages perpetrated upon me, or any reason that I would of caused anyone to come to my door. Fucking bizarre.

All to disrupt me while making my cacao mousse, a new "habit" that has erupted recently. As in following a recipe and as usual, varying the ingredients and portions some. The perps just love that, and will in fact constrain supplies just to ensure they extract the variations they are looking for.

And what is it about file synchronizing, and dis-synchronizing that the perps love so much? With my PC #1 still out, now 10 days and another week to go, the music file library I keep on it is now out of sync with the added albums now on this here PC #2. Add to that, the above mentioned CD's that I will soon digitize, (loathe the terms "rip" or "burn"), and the recent downloads I suddenly "needed", it is all too curious. Because when PC #1 was down in January through March this year, the same thing "happened". I suddenly had the need to acquire more music from CD's and  online and had to later bring the files on PC #2 back onto PC #1 which has adequate storage. Adding to that digital file synchronizing complexity now is a dedicated music file player that can store all my music files. So it has to be kept synchronized too. Obviously having two devices synchronized wasn't enough, so the perps added a third one into the mix.

My PC #1 is down due to the Crucial SSD drive having problems; It has been rock solid since 2011 and then began BSOD-ing a few weeks ago. Another file sync takedown was my NAS, used for backup purposes; it crapped out due to an upgrade problem and the repair guy could not fix it.
A Sunday off no less, two days in succession, a normal weekend, the first in months. And onto my errands list, instead of going hiking like last Sunday.

They finally let me get on with khife and blade sharpening after holding me up for over two months. Not without some fuckery though. I tried again to get the multi-oscillator tool to do the job with adhesive backed abrasives mounted but it didn't work at all. Two years ago I tried the same thing with diamond abrasives and they mysteriously (IMHO) flattened out.  Even when using them hand mounted on a file, these belt mounted diamond abrasives just smoothed out. Ridiculous.

And my weekly TI caller has now backed off to once per month. Seemingly financial reasons, but she offered some lame excuse abou not having enough to talk about that didn't hold up. (Most calls went over an hour and there was always much more we could of talked about). And the perps hit me with some inexplicable recall lapses as well. Back to more lonesome-land times again. Nothing new there, being the pariah of TI's it seems.

Anyhow, now to get this launched for the week.