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.


Anonymous said...

That's very arrogant and typical of them, suggesting that we are delusional and need help. The perps' whole system is fucking psychopathic and so sadistic, they won't let TI's live their lives. "They" seem to have a problem with us living our lives. I don't know why they care so much, because, most TI's are only interested in minding their own business and living their lives. But the assholes (the perps who oversee everything) seem to have a problem every time I feel good about myself. I imagine it's the same with other targets.

And it's interesting that a recording engineer is targeted. I can see why. "They" love to control the media, a subset which includes the recording industry. "They" have to make sure that only their marginally talented whores and pimp wannabes make it, and they know these marginally talented whores will do whatever they want, and they can control the public by controlling what kind of disposable auto-tune overproduced shite they put out.

Another example would be that nobody seems to have a clear answer for what happened to Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones. He started the band, got the guys together (including Mick and Keith) and then he started this descent into oblivion, along with gradually losing the band that he started. It's also interesting to note that he had the name "Rolling Stones" legally registered in his name.

Titled ‘Briefing Note: Death of Brian Jones’, the police report states: ‘She said that her father had told her a number of years ago that on the day of Brian’s death, Messrs Mick JAGGER and Keith RICHARDS visited Brian JONES at the farm in the morning and her father was present when Brian was asked by both men whether he would give up the name of the “Rolling Stones” to them and agree to a financial settlement.
‘Brian apparently declined to do so and it is alleged that Keith RICHARDS drew a knife. It is suggested that THOROGOOD calmed them down and both JAGGER and RICHARDS left the house.’
Brian Jones started and named The Rolling Stones in 1962.

But others claim that Thorogood himself did it:
In 1994, Frank Thorogood (the builder) was on his deathbed, and supposedly confessed to murdering Brian saying, "It was me that did Brian. It just happened. I just snapped. That's all there is to it." He died before any official confession could be recorded.


Interesting that he supposedly confessed, but no confession officially exists. I suppose money and power had something to do with Jones' death, but something tells me that there was simply horseplay that had gone wrong, and the bad feelings between Jones and his recently fired builder/minder intensified it resulting in Jones' death.

AJH said...

The NY Times is such an establishment mouth piece it is pathetic. This is at least their second hit piece on TI's, and they even roll over Dr. John Hall. Despicable as it is pathetic. And the supposed medical professionals are mouthing the standard crap too. Pathetic.

As for Brian Jones' unfortunate and premature demise, I am not up on the facts, especially the recent revelations you mention. However, I do believe that so many of the premature deaths in the music business are nothing what they seem, and in my jaundiced take on that world, it seems so many have been bumped off; Epstein with cancer, Hendrix is now thought to have been murdered, Nick Drake's mother swears he was not depressed before his suicide etc. The list is substantial. And I know from personal experience that the perps can make one feel VERY fragile and depressed by remote means. Thanks for the comments.

Anonymous said...

Wow. When I listened to Drake's "Day is Done", it reminded me so much of "Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croce. But Croce's song was from '73, and Drake's from '69. The similarity is so striking to me.

AJH said...

Answer to "Wow..."
Add Jim Croce to that list, and many others. And for a fascinating read of the genesis of 1960's rock scene, along with yet more unfortunate deaths, read this 12 part article.