Sunday, April 23, 2017

Rain Out

More like thunderstorm; the boss man said if there is any lightning, we must vacate the vineyard. Sure enough, inside 5 min., lightning flashes came on to accompany the thunder. By then it was raining and hailing. I find it totally incongruous that there would be a thunderstorm here (Okanagan Valley) in April.Thunderstorms following hot weather, for sure. But it hasn't been hot, and we still may not be out of winter weather.

Then I got hit for a two hour nap attack. The usual caveat applies; I did not need the sleep in any way.

A full day of vineyard work, and the latter half wearing my new headphones, as the old ones had their "problems". (Read, perp imposed fuckery).  New headphones meant a number of helicopters over the afternoon, and a strong wind started up and stayed for the whole of the afternoon. And the usual row-end games; the boss arrives in his pickup just as I am finishing the row. I cannot count the number of times these "row end clusterfucks/gangstalk eruptions" happen, but it is totally consistent with the perps' research need every time I change direction. Back to the anisotropic properties of energy, and likely, energy absorption. (Anisotropic; different physical properties in different directions, x, y, z- e.g. wood -you can split it easily on its endgrain, but not the other directions).

This week's vineyard work has been to remove tendrils and debris off the irrigation lines, and to make sure there is a hanger for every dripper, every 18" or so. Needless to say there are a number of other things to tidy up, like tie downs that were missed, and ties that are girdling the cordons.

A new employee yesterday; I will call her an "dis-engagee", a now new kind of employee in workplaces world wide; plugged into earphones for the whole day. Not unlike most of the others, though another one is particularly plugged into elsewhere; even at lunch time in the heated shed he is on his phone and earphones, making no bones about not talking to anyone. But of course I am listening to my headphones as much as the weather permits, but I don't go out of my way to be disengaged.

Said new employee has a Toyota Corolla of a light tan metallic brown color, nearly the same as my Ford Escape, given to me by my mother in 01-2017. Not forgetting my ride for the last five years was a mid-grey Toyota Camry, which still sits outside unsold, now three months on the used market. One would think I was selling a motor-home for crissakes.

More likely changes in my residence circumstances in the wind. The owners want access tomorrow to show the place to a potential buyer of their and this place, being a carriage house. All these wonderful benefits of no neighbors up, down or any side will likely not persist in any new arrangement. Back to the past in all likelihood; overhead pounding, sex rabid neighbors, yapping dudes etc. The perps usually don't allow me to live in one place for more than four years. Ditto back in Victoria, 2007-2011. And four prior residences 2002-2006. And four residences from 2012-13.

A rainy start to the day, enough that I changed  into my rain gear at the outset. It was to rain all day on and off, but by 1330h, the sun came out and warmed me up enough to take off my ski jacket, though still with my rain pants on as I would of needed to take off my boots etc. A rare combination of clothes; rain (ski) jacket off, rain paints on, and warmish weather. All this on the vineyard job, cleaning up the irrigation lines of tendrils and the sloppy tie-down work that was permitted this year. Don't ask me why the crew boss was so slack, but I did draw his attention to it before, all for nothing.

A nice weather day for the first time this year, down to a shirt. From winter weather to summer weather all in one day. Said shirt was black, so that meant that I was in all black today after 0900h. In fact, I was in a black ski jacket first thing, and then it was suddenly so warm that I took off my grey sweater too, and so it was black to black as it were.

Today, like yesterday, they had the other two guys on other projects, so I worked with the two women on the crew for much of the day. All part of the selective gender games, which includes introducing the males back in singly later in the day. Both have pony tails, a hair feature I absolutely loathe on males, and the perps know this given their relentless pursuit in displaying this along with other typical male vestiges; guts, beards, waddling walk, skin-heads, and others. Just to think; 15 years of this insane litany of selectively introduced male features, especially the Unfavored ones.

The gorgeous tasting room supervisor whom I have met a few times, but don't see much of in my regular work, "happened" to be outside at lunch time and I caught a fleeting glance for three seconds while in my light brown (mid-brown interior) vehicle. And lo, if she wasn't in light tan pants and a black top, and I was all dressed in black after above mentioned clothing change. Funny how I get color matched stalkers. Do the perps buy their clothes too so they have a color matched wardrobe on hand?

Doing care duty yesterday as my former co-worker is laid up with a broken knee cap. He is on the mend OK, but it will take three months before he is back together. Just to think, he was learning about winery equipment when it "happened", and we know who likes to interrupt human learning. And you think all those school shoot-ups and massacres are random nutters?

I drove my colleague to his favorite grocery store, and then his liquor store and packed all these for him. Needless to say it was a gangstalk scene, and plenty of brown people dogging me in his grocery store, aisle after aisle, and even parking themselves at the aisle end for crissakes. Added into this gangstalk scene were two of my vineyard co-workers who "happened" to be there separately, both of the  strong "dis-engagee" stripe. The above mentioned woman who started this week was one of them, and she didn't even acknowledge me for crissakes. Either her vision is bad, or she is totally out of it, or else is controlled to be utterly rude. Lots of fat people at this grocery big-box store too. The final touch was at the second stop, the liquor store when my colleague bought his items, then I bought a bottle of wine myself, and just as we were leaving, why, a striking black haired babe struts in. I am sure she caught my colleague's attention too.

Which set me up for later, as two brown skinned people came to see my vehicle for sale. They drove around to test the car, taking turns. They seemed like nice guys, but the story changed from coming to purchase it so he could drive home to Kelowna (that he was desperate to buy it), to a parting "I'll let you know". The price was agreed to via text messaging two days beforehand, so price wasn't a deterrent, and he said the car was in good condition, he, a former Camry owner. Recall from two weeks ago, three E. Indians (from India) came to view my vehicle in a parking lot who checked it over but didn't drive it, another ridiculous ruse IMHO.

I did not hear from the brown skinned people about my Camry for sale today. So it would seem this was another ruse to have them view, and this time, drive my vehicle. The perps like to have one anticipate a sale, or money, and it not materialize, and I suppose this was just another. Maybe these three prospective buyers in three months is part of the perps' "warm up", finally getting to a sale in few more months and visitors. Yesterday's ruse had a more urgent tone to it, building up the story that the guy was desperate for a vehicle and would have to scrape to get to Penticton and then purchase it to secure his passage back. The story didn't pan out when he arrived with a pal in a new Corolla, and then departed in it. One would think I was selling a 40' RV for all the curious lack of sale action.

I got out for a hike though, getting the imminent rain forecast when in fact it turned out to be warm-ish with high overcast. Yet again, I got my follow-me-up and follow-me-down hiking stalkers. In the five years I have been going up this trail, this hasn't happened until two weeks ago, and then again today. Too many coincidences IMHO. Said hiking gangstalkers, like two weeks ago, hung back in their nearby vehicle when I arrived at mine, just for more variation action; e.g. on trail one way, then return, and then at or in vehicle. They could of been long gone but weren't. Plenty of those fugly oversized shorts on other hiking males up and back. I loathe cargo shorts or baggy shorts on males especially, and the perps seem to know it, and therefore add more of this into the gangstalking scene. Another one of those Unfavored vignettes the perps love to pummel me with, extending the season every year it would seem.

And on the way back I stopped at the LD store, and what a holy gangstalk scene that was. Fuckwits blocking and criss-crossing my path one after another, and that was just getting parked. (One being a two tone light brown Camry of similar age to mine). Once ambulatory, in typical fashion they popped three Fuckwits out from behind the corner of the building, and in keeping this up, three Fuckwits from two separate doors emerged at the same time as I was approaching the mall entrance, forcing me to take the third set. Then another doddering Fuckwit crossing in front of me as I approached LD, and then three Fuckwits blocking my usual store entry route. So I take an alternate route, and another Fuckwit was there, and once around him, a kid is on disengaged cross-my-path duty, and once he blew by, a pair of doddering geriatrics were blocking the aisle. And once mobile, this Fuckwit woman was dithering over the chocolate section, not seeming to be very shopping focussed, and adroitly placing herself two seconds ahead of me as to where I wanted to go. I haven't had such an over-obvious chocolate-stalker for a long time. Another geriatric stalker was opposite hiding behind an aisle constricting display. I hadn't seen anything quite like this since the intense and insane abuse days of 2002. And what was the special event, apart from returning from my hike? Why, I had drove the Camry, the vehicle the aforementioned brown skinned pair had driven for 20 minutes the day before.

Exciting times in perp-ville, and the sense I get is that they aren't even close to concluding their brownstalking research. And to set that above whole deal up, who planted the notion that I needed chocolate anyhow?

So now, taking possession in 2017 of the the perp-abetting parent's light metallic tan (medium brown interior) Ford Escape, the brownstalking has moved up a notch. Maybe in 2027 they will lay on a brown skinned girlfriend. (I hope to be gone by then, but given this macabre and abusive trajectory, I am not holding my breath. Nor do I want any girlfriend as she is bound to be a perp abettor). Though it seems the Psychopaths have been working on the brown girl angle in parallel as both my perp-abetting brothers have brown skinned wife/girlfriend.

Enough on browning the victim and to get this posted.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Fifteen Years On

By the time you read this, the 15th anniversary of this imposed hell will have transpired. That is to say, when I became aware that I was followed, harassed, remotely neurally monitored and controlled to a significant extent. (Now, 100% complete). Though, it seems that I have been covertly monitored, controlled and orchestrated since birth. And the Day of Infamy was just their way of going overt, and escalating the abuse. Or as I ascribe it, berserk and overt. It still astounds me that they would hound the literal shit out of someone for 15 years now, when they had been covertly orchestrating and messing with the victim (me) for the prior 47 years. Why cannot they come out of the closet, make a deal, and complete their research expeditiously?

Though I suspect that the reason might have to do with "sneaking up" on human cognition from a psychic perspective, especially when humans take measurements, and thereby bypass the "measurement problem" of quantum mechanics, whereby the observer is implicitly part of the event. Another clue, possibly related, is that in Hugh Everett's multiple worlds theory, (Wikipedia -with usual caveat, dense read version, readable version) is that a new world is created when one measures or decides something. (Which might explain why the perps so like to hound my ass when I measure something, or even estimate something, or make a decision). But of course we don't see all these worlds, so where do they go, or do they immediately collapse in some kind of "mathematically consistent theory of a universal wave function" the perps want to discover. Don't know, don't care, mostly because I don't have the smarts to put this together. And too, learning disabilities might play into this, if nothing else to cause a delay in comprehension= a differential timing of the cognitive determination of the same meme, and possibly making it asymmetric.

The gory details of their tyrannical onset are in the story (27pp) I re-read part of it recently, and I have "forgotten" a few of the details since, especially someone fixing the front end of my vehicle at the time. Though in hindsight, they didn't need to fix anything; all noise and vibration can be remotely manipulated as I since came to learn. Nor did they need to move my vehicle, to add to the notion that they took it away and fixed it. Said vehicle, my 1986 Volvo 245 was given to my daughter in 2006, and she let it sit in the driveway and didn't use it as far as I could tell. Then she sold it a year later. I never did ask her to whom; perhaps the assholes who run the Gangstalk Hall of Shame.

Never was a vehicle more followed, more subject to extra-conventional weapons and technologies. They even burned a few round spots in the seats. They could even unlock the doors (electric locks) remotely. They could even put the vehicle into reverse while driving forward, unbidden by me, and with no transmission damage no less. At this juncture they were on my ass on the highway (though not with gangstalking vehicles oddly), and a return route presented itself, (and the notion of taking it was planted in mind), and I thought, screw it, I will keep going. Then suddenly the vehicle suddenly decelerated and then went into reverse. I kid you not; its as if the wheels were disconnected from the drive train. By then, I was familiar with Them, and said "OK, I will take the return route", did not move the gearshift and the vehicle proceeded forward at the appropriate speed. I turn off and there is all this snow all of a sudden, and I proceed along with trepidation. At one point I come to a T intersection, and the text and font on the sign was so uncharacteristic that it was like out of Psycho, that I turned around and proceeded back. On the way, there was a highway maintenance truck full of snow. I still don't know what all that was about, but there was absolutely no other snow on this two hour highway drive or at higher elevations.

And upon re-reading the story, (27pp) I see that Ms. C was much more influential in freaking me out in advance of the apartment invasion than I was allowed to recall. Third party references like "that wasn't supposed to happen" and "oops, I didn't mean to say that" more than once were decidedly for setting me up to be totally anxious. Just to think, this same perp operative/asshole pours on the romance a year later, saying that she really loved me etc. and was really serious about a long term relationship. (I was now living in another country and run out of a job). This took me by total surprise, as she was such a confrontational drama queen at times. On my next US visit the perps dashed that possibility by having the US Border Patrol point their guns at me for no reason and give me this bullshit rationale that could of been conveyed at the desk on a piece of paper. Needless to say, Ms. C didn't come to visit me in Canada, so after a few years of lovey-dovey phone calls and emails of diminishing frequency that bullshit was dispensed with. (A few doppelganger sightings were in order though). Another one of those over-the-top stunts to leave me shaking my head, and yet again, asking "what was that all about".

And so as I type, my fingers don't always go to the keys I intend, and I have been keyboarding for over 40 years now. It is very infuriating not to have control over one's fingers. And my constant "companions", masers and plasma projections constantly float in and out of my vision. Masers are blackish blobs, sometimes beams, and are the magnetic equivalent to laser beams. Plasma beams come off anything and anybody, and can replicate patterns, say venetian blinds, except that the projected image will have the wall behind it and the venetian blind pattern is often in another color. All these light phenomenon are transitory, maybe a second or two at most, most often subsecond.

As far as I can tell, I am kept in a densified magnetic field, measured some 1800Gauss in 2009. Back in 2002, the Year the Perps Went Beserk/Overt, it was 180-200Gauss on industrial measuring equipment. (The measuring thing again). Interesting that they let me "discover" this aspect by having a hand compass behave strangely.

And what is it about being stalked by Asians that was so important tonight at SOF supermarket? I do my usual evening time visit to avoid the gangstalking crowds, and sure enough, there were fewer stalkers around. But an Asian woman and another man were closing in on me as I entered so I took an alternate route in the produce section. She was there in stun-out mode looking up after that, having retraced her path for some curious reason, and lo, if she didn't suddenly come at me to cross my path. Like WTF; from coming at me, to retreated, to standing dumbstruck and then coming at me again, al inside of three minutes of shopping.

I then checked out the new wine section at this supermarket, (alcohol sale laws change slowly in these here parts), and this time an Asian male was on my ass. The "stand in the way" stunt, while pretending obliviousness, and then he tails me once past him. So I decide, fuck it, I will go around to the other side of this divided aisle, and then this Fuckwit tails me and takes a shortcut through the tasting section to get on my ass again while feigning to be shopping by looking up, instead of at me while barreling toward me. So I move along and he tails me down this second route. So screw it, I bail on visiting the wine section and go to the self-checkout. So what was the whole deal about putting the extra obvious tail on my ass? Was it to limit my dopamine response to a whole new (interesting) section of the store? Seems that way; given the insane perp preoccupation with my dopamine state. And what is it about Asians that makes them the most extreme, determined and unmerciful stalkers? One visit to Chinatown (Richmond actually) in Vancouver when the perps were on my ass big time in 2002 convinced me that Asians are the most totally rabid stalkers when they get the word. Something about being remorselessly dutiful when money is waved in front of them perhaps, not to mention currying favor for later work possibilities. They are the most mercenary lot I have come to know in this sordid brutality.

A wet day in the vineyard, tying down vines all day. (Wet or cold = no headphones, therefore no music to listen to). As usual, the forced finger fumbling and freezing, tool dropping and other snags and hang ups came on, and all the more so when near the end of a row. I cannot quite figure out why three of the crew are creating more work for next year by adding extra mid-cane ties that will need to be removed by Jan-Mar 2018, next year's pruning season. The deal is that one wraps the cane around the horizontal trellis wire and then ties the end of the cane, where there is no bud. That way, one tie does the job. Three of the crew are tying down one or two more places along the cane which threatens to girdle the cane for the 2017 growing season. There were countless ties to pick out while pruning. I never got a straight answer as to why they tied the canes in mid cane last year; all was said in response to my question was, "you weren't here". No I wasn't, but how does that explain anything? It doesn't, and nor is there any explanation for doing it wrong for the second year in succession. There is something about tying down canes the perps just need to discover. And how many thousand years of viticulture has there been, and it is likely the perps were sitting behind this from the get-go. And I did notice masers for the first time floating off the ties as I tied them down on the cane ends today.

Further evidence that the whole thing is rigged; the rest of the crew walked off after getting the call for lunch, and none of them even looked or passed on the message to me, being 40' (at most) furthest away from the next guy. Like, two months ago we all made sure everyone heard the call for break time, even if down slope and 100' away, and I even got a phone call once. Today, nothing; everyone else including the crew boss just trots off. I did NOT have headphones on or any other aural impairment, so what gives? I have seen more than a few of this organized "herding", where I get defaulted to the pre-selected row, often when someone curiously leaves a gap for no apparent reason. That is, they arrive at the row ends ahead of me and instead of taking the first available one, they leave one for me. Weird.

Yoga; back to packing the place again. I go early, and folks are now arriving earlier. The arts dude came in a the last minute to block my direct view of the dishy instructor. The dude-in-the-way-of-the-view-of-the-babe stunt is so tiresome, as it is predictable.

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After yoga onto the LD store, and it was a Caucasian elder fucker who stalked my ass, one aisle to the next, and again for the third time when headed to the checkout. And per usual, nothing in his hand to suggest he was actually shopping, just there to hound my ass. He was alternated with a fat woman who was also on my ass for two path crossings. Then to finish off, after purchasing (always a big perp Fuckover activity), they had a turbaned E. Indian cleaner, arriving an hour early for some strange reason. Did I mention that I find head wear highly Unfavored, as I do beards, as I do males over 20 yo. as I do dark skin? Maybe they should of put him in wheelchair to add one more Unfavored feature to his stalking schtick.

By 1000h I was able to remove my ski jacket as it finally warmed up in the vineyard. By noon, I removed my scarf. And no less, in this highly constrained abusive straight jacket I am kept in, I was allowed to listen to music on my portable player. Though not without fuckery; someone somehow put it on random play which I totally loathe unless it is a single album, which it wasn't at the time. Then the wrong album played, and I checked it again, and the displayed album was what I selected. And so it goes, this insane relentless sabotage over music reproduction, and most intensely, portable music reproduction.

Another sabotage strike, this time over lighting, specifically, a reading light. My perp abetting mother bought this for me in 2015 as a Christmas present and is made by a company that specializes in reading lamps, and with color balanced daylight bulbs. A one year warranty, and the thing made it 2.1 years, before the ballast crapped out. The light didn't make it past one year. Back and forth with the manufacturer and it "happens" that the ballast is non-replaceable. Like WTF; I expected a whole lot better than the crap Ikea lighting that doesn't make it past one year, and all I got was an extra year out of the deal. Further emails got me some lame-assed excuse about not selling the replaceable ballast (which I was planning to gerry-rig) when they surely did, per web pages.

And we know who just loves to fuck with lighting, and all the more if it is used for reading. The assimilation of information (epistemology) is of intense interest to the perps, as is the attendant lighting while reading. Which partially explains why these weird-assed gangstalkers are walking down the street reading a book for crissakes.
And yes, I am also down an Ikea reading lamp from a few years ago; another sabotaged ballast that couldn't be changed. And at least one earlier overhead low volt Ikea system ballast crapped out, also non-replaceable.

More strangeness of vineyard crew behavior today, the subtle kind. We walked over to a new block (of vines) in the afternoon and two guys were ahead of me and one disappeared, and the other starts the first row. I start the second row, and a following third guy follows in the third row a few minutes behind me. About 15 min. later, I see the single woman crew member in the third row who was well behind in the next block, and the guy who gave up this row to her is now in the fifth row, with the "disappeared" guy returning in the fourth row. All this row shuffling and no one says squat; just this ongoing subterfuge and the accompanying heads-down avoidance. At least they could of made a skit of it or something, even if a feeble one. But no, just this strange tacit collusion of nothing said.

Another day of tying down vines, this time in the rain. Heavy helicopter coverage today, this time starting with a big ~15 place Sikorsky. Then an hour later the Search and Rescue comes by with their distinctive yellow EH 101. Then another pass when they come back from the airport 30 min. later. More traffic from a local EC 135 later, timed when the afternoon commercial Q-400 passenger flight was coming in, in keeping with the fixed wing-rotary wing combinations they like to put on. With a helipad at at the winery I am sure they will be landing a few there in the coming months, bringing the rotary winged aircraft right to the victim's work area.

Don't forget the perps think long term on this aircraft stalking theme; back in 2012 recall that they put the Search and Rescue EH 101 (CH 149) on my McIntyre Bluff hiking route, having it hover just over the ground some 300m away in an open spot for 20 minutes. Some months later, after the aborted hikes from thunderstorms were over, I "discovered" this same location which became my tanning spot, and to which I have returned many times each year. It is off trail and I don't get stalked by ambulatory personnel, save overhead aircraft of course. In other words, they pre-selected the location I would routinely return to, and had a large three engine helicopter hover there at full power, which is very strange. Normally they look for a landing spot and set down, but to hover for 20 minutes only a few feet from the ground is strange.

No headphone use today for the rain, though 4 of the 6 of us were plugged into their earphones. For some reason the perps want to keep me on headphone use, and thereby, keep me weather dependent as to when I use them. As such, I predict the rainiest summer yet, as they so love to disrupt my music listening experience. Should I get earphones I suspect they will "malfunction" or else get plain uncomfortable, something the perps can gauge and control by remote means, impossible as it may sound. More than ever, my outside music listening is under overt governance, though inside they seem to let me listen often since they got their amplifier sabotage (2x) and subsequent delays done with in  2016. One of the crew warned me off of earphones, saying that it takes many attempts to get ones that fit.

Onto farm work; it wouldn't be the first time I have come to this conclusion, but I swear the perps are up to their infrequent games of doing our work while we are away on break. One guy was two rows over and proceeding in the same direction and was about the same row location, three "panels" (20' each, the span between posts) from the end. When we came back from break he tied vines for 5 minutes or so and then walked off to a new row. I checked out his row and it was complete. It seems "someone" (perps and their remote object manipulating games that is), had done nearly three panels in his absence, all to advance him some 20 minutes ahead of me.

This would not be the first time that farm work was mysteriously done over break time. The most unusual occurrence was the first day of my first farm job in 2008, picking daffodil bulbs. (Reported in this blog at the time). The crew of 20 or so took their first break in the bus, and when we returned the boxes had been stacked and placed in rows for truck pickup. It was most remarkable, as it had to been at least 80 to 100 boxes of bulbs were moved from the rows, placed to the side and stacked. I swear there was no party that came and did this, as no one was around, and it was the crew who were to do this work anyhow. Nothing like this  happened for the next three years of bulb picking, but all the same, one cannot count on object permanence in TI World. Or this world for that matter, as determined by the covert machinations of Thems. Just to think of the possibilities, or more like, astounding ramifications; all such manual labor could be replaced by perp directed remote object manipulation. So why do they put humans through all this toil, and singularly backbreaking toil before the advent of engines, automation and hydraulics?

All dressed up for work and ready to go, and the call came that there was too much rain. I laid down for a while, and lo, if I didn't start feeling sick. Sure enough, the assholes had me puke up 2 hours after breakfast, brown colored it was. More lying around and then the call that there would be no work today.

At about 1100h the rain abated, and I set off to dispose of the reading lamp (per above), and two pairs of headphones that have been sabotaged. Another holy vehicular gangstalk; post rain, still with wet streets, but one would of thought it was a big city commute for all the road traffic. All that coverage to accompany me to the recycle depot to drop off the sabotaged items. (There must be a French suffix for this; sabotageail?).

Still more gong-show vehicular gangstalking levels on the way back, the assholes screwing me out of making a second stop concerning lighting. As in replacing the above mentioned reading light they took out.

The landlord came by and told me his tale of woe over keeping the house. (He and his wife live in a house on the property, I live in a separate carriage house, but the utilities are shared, no separate metering for me). It seems he wants to crank the rent up, and put it in terms of "helping us make a decision" about keeping his house or renting it out. Which would mean that he would have to coordinate the groundskeeping. And it would mean having some other party 60' away, and most likely a perp-selected disruptive one. (Read kids/dogs at my door or some such unconstrained yobbo behavior I predict). It has been a cold winter for sure, and I am never really sure where the landlord is coming from, as he has been known to cast BS in the past. Going back three years he said he would consider dropping the rent if my power usage was low. I didn't use the air conditioner much the next two summers and then he raised the rent. Given that he is a realtor, he is streets ahead of me in silver tongued skills.

A trip to the tanning salon was another high gangstalking event; a seeming convergence of freaks. An overweight fugly vagrant, two young women, one native Indian and the other Caucasian with huge holes hacked in her jeans, enough to see her underwear. And why on earth would a medium brown native Indian need a tan? And a black haired Caucasian woman preceded me into the salon. All too often they like to present deep black shiny hair, possibly related to the time I had a Newfoundland dog (all black, 1973-78) and the then-wife always slacked off on combing his hair, so I always did it. In other words, lots of deep black hair contact.
A day off, and I was finally allowed to get hiking at the trail head at 1200h, which absolutely pisses me off. I want to start at least 3 hours earlier, even if it is a 3 hour hike, and I haven't been able to do better than 1100h in the four years I have been doing this same hike. "Something" just comes up; today it was vacuuming this place, after getting up too late (10 hour sleep). The vacuuming was needed in part because I have been killing at least 20 ants a day during this high ant invasion season. The assholes even had one climbing around on the visor of my vehicle for crissakes.

And the usual cast of freaks on the trail; the dude swarm, the dudes-in-shorts pair (10C, crissakes), and the shirtless male when there was hail (and intermittent sunshine). Said Fuckwit was part of a couple that tailed me up and down, something highly unusual on this particular trail. But not unexpected in the sphere of being gangstalked all the time.

I learned that my work buddy of last year, with whom I had many interesting conversations, and who now works elsewhere, smashed his kneecap on a winery job. He has had surgery and has pins and his knee is totally immobilized. I maintain there are no such thing as accidents in my sphere, those who know, or once knew me. As they are in on this whole charade of having an orchestrated existence, so what kind of deal did they cut for that to "happen"? Don't know; perhaps there is a payments spreadsheet, based on the degree of victim (me) involvement, and in order beget higher payment (or opportunities) they get injured. The perps tell me one day I will be allowed to know, but who can believe them?

Anniversary of the Day of Infamy, aka, Total Life Invasion, and Onset of Relentless Abusiveness and Ruination. I worked today, to make up for the rain-out two days ago. All by myself as it turned out, being let in by the vineyard manager. A dull and boring day, pulling old tendrils off the irrigation lines and ensuring none of the irrigation hanger clips were missing.  The weather let up mostly, and after 1000h I got to listen to my portable music player. That is always a benchmark of the harassment level, for whatever reason.

In the evening, I visited above colleague who has the repaired kneecap and a leg in a cast. It will be two months before he is on his own pins. I did the "care bear" thing; bringing him food, music and books. Plus that earthing pad that I cannot bear to use on my bare feet as they get too cold. It seemed like I was on autopilot the whole visitation, some three hours. Not the usual reflective and responsive nature of my normal cognitive self, such as that is in these circumstances.

And still I cannot get any empathy from anyone in having prostate cancer. He never asks anything, like "how is it going/looking?', but it is not just him. I haven't had any interest from my daughter in 10 months. What is it, some big joke that I am not in on? Call it empathy restriction and containment for now.

Said colleague "needed" to go to the jar store to get some alcoholic refreshments, as it is difficult to pack things when on crutches. I drove us there, and while there I got the two (gangstalker) dude  pinch. A pair of them, and they split apart as if coordinated and then come from each side of this 8' display toward me and my colleague. One stopped, picked up a case of beer, the other came in close, "needing" to get to the same cooler case by managed "coincidence". He then tailed us on the way to the checkout. Said Fuckwits tailed us out the store, and then in their vehicle for a block.

And what is it about the perps screwing me out of taking my wallet when going out? They pulled this shit a number of times, but backed off to once/year for the last five or so. Now, twice in three days they pulled this shit. At least they didn't have me find out at the checkout, but one never knows what juvenile fuckery variations are coming down.

Another perp trick of considerable consistency is blocking me from videos when first wanting to see a new artist on Youtube. The notion (planted no doubt) to see GS of JA came to mind so I looked her up and selected one, and lo, if no audio would come through. Screw that, so the next day, I tried again. That the video took 10 minutes to load surely wasn't a fluke either, then it suddenly came on when I was browsing something else. Call it another repeat instance of the staged intro; delayed start, then first only visual, then audio only, then both together. This follows an unrelated DVD that strangely "failed" yesterday, freeze framing after watching it for 40 minutes.

Anyhow, enough of the litany of extra-conventional abuse in this Contained Universe.

Sunday, April 09, 2017

New Crown

My new tooth crown was fitted today, amounting to a $1350 bill in total. The dentist had some trouble fitting it in and hovered over me at length to get it adjusted. She was attempting to install it without freezing, but that didn't work, and so a delay over that as well, waiting for the anesthetic agent to kick in. Said tooth represents nearly the last of the infernal mercury amalgam fillings that I was nailed with from the 1960's. One more small amalgam filling that the dentist says is "stable" that will be $230 to fill with their current resin technology filling material. Sometimes I think they should have a billing meter overhead on the ceiling of the dentist's office so one can see how fast it is adding up. Kind of like those government deficit counters one sees in many places, and online of course. In that unlikely event, I am sure the dentist would do more reaching over me than ever to block such billing visibility.

And in the process I see that she got a wonderful tan over spring break. The perps like sending their abettors to get brown, hence the guy that started at work for a week and then took a week off to get a tan in Mexico. No wonder they like to place Mexican farm workers near me. And all the better they can have their abettors get close and touch me in the course of their professional duties. Even more than a hair stylist.

The dental appointment was for 1300h, and so was able to return to vineyard work. And the perps pulled a massive weather change when I arrived back. The morning was warm but overcast, but when I got back the wind was blowing at least 40kph and it was cold. Back on with the ski jacket. No rain thankfully.

At the end of the day on my way back there was a massive vehicular gangstalking, and they also had two white colored helicopters on patrol, even keeping them aloft for me to "happen" to see them from inside my place once back. One was a EC 135, and the other was an AStar, also made by EC (Euro Copter), circulating overhead.

This evening I was lured out to talk to a former work mate who is also in the headphone distribution business. I tried two models, and naturally, liked the most expensive (by 3x) pair. I shall have to reconsider my new headphone "need", as always, perp planted, orchestrated and governed. And my history, again, highly governed, orchestrated and sabotaged, with headphones is that they "somehow" fall apart and need repairs. That goes back 40 years. And who knows, it could all be a ruse to have me go out with my new crown (read, electromagnetic properties) and put new electromagnetic devices (headphones) on my head. The perps like to lure me away from my place at certain times, and holding a day job won't do it all the time for them.

Just finished reading, "The Man Without a Face:  the Unlikely Rise of Vladimir Putin" by Masha Gessen. What a book, and a great insight on all what ails Russia, and of course, the central personality who reigns there. And the nasty retributive politics are quite something out of this Western world. A sobering reminder of how the thin veneer of civility we have. And what a perp heaven Russia must be; demonstrations, detentions, summarily shutting down businesses and all that chaos and disruption they so like. And too, the past "collectivization" of Soviet Union where ownership was stripped from individuals and companies; the perps just love to manipulate (and monitor) ownership, and related to that, financial transactions. By my reckoning, it has been one VERY costly non-consensual human experiment, and it is still going on, just not as visible.

Another day of tying down vines, and plenty of perp fuckery to go with it; pulling the tying tool from my hands at least 10x, and pulling the wire or cane from my hand, breaking the wire (if it gets too twisted up), tangling the wire, knocking buds off the cane, freezing up my fingers and very often, one hassle followed by another by another. Fuckery and sabotage is best delivered (from the perps' insane abusive perspective), in threes or fours; drop the tool, break the wire, have the cane flip out from one's hands etc. The more fine motor control task actions, the more sabotage and thereby, greater victim (me) infuriation can be inflicted.

And windy and cold most of the day; still ski coat and toque weather. Though the toque thing is likely to discourage me from wearing headphones and listening to music all day. The perps have put on a concerted effort to disrupt music listening over the nearly 15 years of this abusive hell. They can drop the volume level of the player by remote means; possibly for the purpose of limiting the electromagnetic activity at one's head, or whatever other remote neural monitoring fuckery they are up to. There is no question they like to use music to map deeper into the human brain, all the way to psychic levels I would posit.

Light rain at the vineyard, getting heavier all of a sudden after lunch. Some coffee and doughnuts were planned for 1200h, just at lunch break, but that got delayed. So... I put my blue rain pants on at the end of lunch break and lo, if all four of the other crew members didn't get a text to say that come to the winery where the coffee and doughnuts are and wait out the rain. They told me on the way back. I wasn't the first time I have been left out of the loop on a crew job, just me, and it won't be the last. (See below).

And it is the third time in three in the last year, where I put on the rain pants and the job gets stopped. Too much rain for vineyard workers apparently, though from my forestry background I find this laughable. So we sit and chat in the winery for 20 minutes with the coffee and doughnuts with the gorgeous woman (dressed in a light brown coat) who runs the tasting room, as she delivered them. But as the rain is keeping up, the crew boss decides to stop work for the afternoon and we are to make up the time on Saturday. So... what is it about wearing these blue rain pants, (or any), that the perps need to stop the job? In this case they added brown liquid (coffee) and brown glazed doughnuts, along with the brown coated feminine visage. Not forgetting that I drove home afterward in my brown interior-ed vehicle. And two more laughers; two broadside in traffic stunts on the way home. The Fuckwit that proceeds to cross the street with his pick up truck and stops in mid-street as there is nowhere for him to go. I was about to take a picture of this fantastic idiocy and "somehow" the perps fumbled my fingers and had the screen die out, and lo, the traffic finally moved on. Only a block later another Fuckwit in a pick up pulls the same deal, this time on a back street, causing me to wait in mid-street until the idiot show finds his driveway.

A phone call from an E. Indian (from India that is), interested in my Toyota Camry for sale. First it is meet in two days at my place, then her "friends" can meet me this afternoon, but I said that I would be going out shopping and could she confirm when this would happen. Then in the next call, "since you are going shopping can me meet at a store", though not in those words as her English was mediocre. I get another call, and so it is for sure, and I tell her three times it is the west side of the SOF parking lot. I drive there for the appointed time, and what a holy vehicular gangstalking it is, and with plenty of pit-lamping headlights that is all the rage of late. I am waiting in the parking lot and for some mysterious reason a 22' white public transit bus pulls into the parking stalls, only two away and sits there for five minutes. Like WTF; there is a proper bus stop with a passenger shelter in the parking lot within our respective sightlines, and here this deranged driver (it seems to me) situates a passenger bus in the public parking lot for no apparent reason. No passengers to get on or off or other seeming genuine purpose. He eventually departs and within a few minutes I see three E. Indians wandering around in the parking lot on their cell phone, and sure enough, I get a call from them. One has a red jacket on, another yellow, and the third a mid-grey hoodie with orange stripes. Talk about a perp-made set up; how many times have I lamented the extra-obvious bright red and yellow color combinations, and here they send a neutral colored one into the mix. They look at the vehicle, the grey hoodie one sits in it and starts it up, and they jabber away in Punjabi. After ten minutes, and after refusing my offer for them to drive it, they say they will phone me tomorrow. As in no sale, having not even driven it for crissakes. So what was that all about? Meet the brown skinned people after the prerequisite wait time after having coffee (per above), and/or prior driving in a brown interior vehicle? Another ridiculous brownstalking stunt IMHO.

Then onto SOF, with the three E. Indians leading me into the mall having parked on the west side, but not into the SOF supermarket thankfully. And as it "happened" there was a major ambulatory cluster fuck inside SOF as they were opening their wine section for the very first day. I never go shopping there at 1645h; 2000h or later when there is much less gangstallking action. Even the security guard there, (a ridiculous arrangement for a store section opening IMHO), got into the act by adroitly stepping into my path without having seen me coming. Somehow the fuckers just know when to step in my way sight unseen while I am noiselessly approaching. And this perp-patented move suddenly erupted 04-2002 and hasn't let up. Which is why I never go out to busy places as it "happens" every time. Sooo... I got sucked into a no-seeming vehicle sale in mid-afternoon, after being let off work early, and then into a store during the height of its busy time, extra busy in fact with the opening of the wine section, all seeming to continue the "brown action" in human form, after getting set up with ingested liquid brown coffee.

Then another visit to another grocery store as SOF's grocery section sucks so bad, and plenty more in-store gangstalking there, and then into the parking lot where trains of vehicles suddenly arrived to clusterfuck me in attempting to leave the parking lot. Then more vehicular gangstalking trains on the way home. Then to top it off, the back-alley perp station (house) started up their infernal HD motorcycles again, this time three of them (up from the usual two). Then at least four more rounds of this racket over the next hour when making dinner, also another high perp fuckover event.

Rain this morning, enough to have work cancelled. Which means it must be made up on the weekend. Which means it screws with my part time weekend work plans. Well done.

To fill in the time I decide to go to the tanning salon as I "forgot" for the past two weeks. And lo, if they didn't put a white boom truck backing out onto the street ahead of me, in the next residential block. A major vehicular gangstalk scene on the way, and another white boom truck when I turned into the plaza. First he was N bound and in my way, and I had to wait. Once I parked, he "happened" to be S bound and again, forced me to wait near my vehicle until he completed his back-and-forth in front of me. Why these heavy vehicles are so important to the gangstalking scene is beyond me. In fact, it is any dense material load/object. Once they arranged a Fuckwit on the street towing a pallet jack with a safe strapped to it. Absurd as it is consistent.

Then in the tanning salon two shiftless males were loitering there, putting on the faux nonchalance. Extra obvious Fuckwits for whatever reason. Perhaps they want to register my loathing of males doing squat, a long running theme it seems. At least they didn't jointly close in on me, another patented Fuckwit trait.

The boss man asked if I could start work at 1200h as the rain had abated and I said yes. So I hurried home, made lunch and then set off to work. By then it was pissing rain again. One other worker was there, waiting in his vehicle for some strange reason, until I got out. Anyhow, even with the rain dissipating, and then coming back in an hour, we got an afternoon's work done. All this disruption over having me get a tan before going to work. For the perps it must be priceless data.

The E. Indians didn't phone back about my Camry for sale, so it would seems yesterday's red-yellow clothing on brown people clown show was the real purpose. If I loathe bright yellows and reds and browns, what could be more interesting from the perps' perspective than having this combination hanging around me and my vehicle, and even sitting in it.

Worked in the regular vineyard this Saturday, a make-up day for the recent rain outs. And why am I the last to know what the fuck was going on? I was led to believe the make up day would be Sunday, but I also had to make up 1.5 hours for the above mentioned dental appointment, which was arranged to be today. And lo, the other crew members and then the crew boss show up too at 0800h. I ask about the plan, and he tells me today is the make up day. Like WTF; everyone else knew but me. [Update; I got "forgetted" after re-reading the above]. Thankfully I had brought my lunch along, as I was expecting to depart for the part time vineyard job. I will had to phone to make arrangement changes, as today was the only make-up day, and tomorrow I will do the part time job. And what is the perps' obsession over changing appointment times? It "happens" 10x the formal normal rate before all this hell rained down 04-2002, and has never let up.

And what is it about dropping me off lists, mailing lists, accounts etc. that so interests the perps? I cannot count the number of seemingly normal people who dropped me off their email lists where they do blanket send outs. Then Linked In dropped me off without notice. And the latest today is a certain online business dropped me off, finding this out when expecting to order headphones which are on for a killer price. I haven't shopped there for a two years, and lo, if they don't have my account based on the same email address. That took a few attempts to get that figured out. So I delete them from my Payee list for my online banking, and cannot create a new one. Then I phone the bank to get that straightened out. Then I see the "temporary" account is now permanent and they gave me a cryptic password I need to fix. I attempt to get to their site and now the browser has gone into an endless looped fetch so to prevent this new account login. This whole infernal hassle never would of started if they had just left my extant account alone. Or let me update the one I had.

Sunday, and work at the part time vineyard. A whole six hours, but all the tying down is done. The adjacent road with the plethora of mountain bikers of last week was nearly bereft of the same crowd today, and today's weather was better. Still, I had my ski jacket on all day.

And yet again, the perps were up to their sabotage fuckery; freezing up my fingers, dropping the tool etc. And as usual, this sabotage comes in extra hard when near a row end. It is so consistent, in keeping with the extra gangstalking and vehicle pit-lamping when I change directions and proceed down a new vineyard row.

The perps let me listen to my crappy headphones for part of the afternoon, though resorting to their sabotage of headphone listening again. These headphones got "crappy" in part because the plastic headband broke up all by itself. I fixed them to some extent, but ever since the perps use this as an excuse to pull them off my ears and thereby reduce the listening volume. It never fucking ends. And just what are they going to do to interrupt my headphone listening when I get my new pair? I going to call it now; they will sabotage them and cause them to be sent back for warranty repairs, taking weeks, if not months. We shall see.

Enough trials and tribulations for a week, and time to get this posted.

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Annual Forced Finger Fumbling Exercise.

Tuesday, and the perps seemed to have gone nutzo on me for some reason. This is most manifested by their forced finger fumbling, just when I need finger control the most in the course of my paid duties. This is in the cause of "tying down" the vine canes to the trellis wire so that they are secured and then readied for later bud burst, which in turn, will become new canes over the growing season. The new canes bear fruit, and so the cycle continues. (An alternate style of training and pruning is "spur pruning", where a longer term cane, called a "cordon" remains and sends shoots forth, which are then pruned down to short spurs, from which the buds develop to form shoots. The merits of each style of pruning have been debated for millennia. We have done both styles of pruning on this vineyard.)

For tying down the canes one must spiral wrap the cane around the trellis wire so it is supported and then to tightly tie the cane end down with soft tying wire so it doesn't unwrap for the season. Having three hands would help, but in the absence, using one's leg to hold the cane helps. The activity requires manual dexterity in that one must hold the hand pruners and typing wire with an integral spiral twisting device to pull the tie tight, as well as keeping the the cane in place. And of course, this is where the perps intrude and pull any one or more of these from my grasp just before the critical moment of the wire being tight. They blatantly sabotaged me doing this when I first started working in vineyards in 2012, and really haven't let up for this 3 to 4 week job each year. Yesterday they didn't bother me too much, but today, they laid on the finger fumbling sabotage way too often. Often enough to have me fuming all day, and in addition, having the tying wire snag and/or spill out on the ground.

I don't know why they started their concerted finger fumbling attack on day two of this exercise; perhaps it was the post-yoga Fuckover Phenomenon. Yoga was on last night, to a most strange class size of three, easily half of the least populated class in the five years I have been there. And most strange after over-populating it with some 15-18 yogis and four to six dudes just to up the idiot show. Last night they gave me a rare nose bleed after yoga. I don't get these more than once per four years, but for some reason they figured I needed one. This morning the garbage trucks were all over me on the way to the vineyard, plus one there when I got there, and the bins were out. I even had a three-time vehicle stalker, the Fuckwit in a Ford Escape, the same vehicle I am now driving, was "showing up" after taking alternate routes. Then when I got to the vineyard and parked, a large (24' trailer) propane delivery truck arrives and parks near my vehicle to make a delivery to the adjacent winery. And too, plenty of engine noise with the Bobcat that got delivered for a rental as well. A whole lot of noise to accompany my morning start for "some reason".

The assholes didn't stop at the above stunts; they defeated my alarm clock in the night, as I expressly checked it before going to bed, and lo, the assholes had killed it. So I ended up getting up an hour late, just to make the morning time a total fuckaround to rile me up. Invariably, I shorten or abandon my shaving routine in the morning to make up for the stolen time. Worse yet, just before awakening, they pummeled me with dreams about ships, some of them familiar ferry boats of past experience, somehow moving down an crowded interstate-like arterial. Ridiculous, and it could only of been planted as I really not that imaginative on my own.

A morning call from the crew boss; it is raining too much for vineyard work, so await later instructions. That is OK, but it does make me wonder what the whole perp deal is; besides a basic disruption event, so what? I don't think I will ever know why they so love to disrupt regular activities, as having weekends off isn't enough. With all the shift work in the world, and varying work week durations, sometimes 20 days on, 10 off, it does make me wonder what the perps see in this. Then add in weather created problems for outdoor work, and we have yet more variations on their beloved theme, the disruption of planned or regular events.

Back to the graphics stripping games of html pages. This time all my Amazon tabs (both dot com and ca) have the graphics stripped out and the text is aligned on the L side. If it is just a tab, why isn't is displaying from a stored file (normally), instead of now being modified? I went through this stunt for at least 5 years on and off with my Yahoo pages, but that problem is now over. Somehow, the same "problem" is now erupting on my Amazon pages, and I am a regular user. Disruption games anyone?

But is this any different than the perps arranging Fuckwits to block my view when seated on the bus, pre-2012, when I was a regular public transit user? Or after yoga, arranging the yogis to stand in front of me while seated on the couch putting my shoes on? I don't think so, but it is still most curious as to why they need to block my visual field all the time.

An interesting association I discovered; p. 5577 of Mini-review;... Peripherial Dopamine... "social interactions activate dopaminergic regions, whereas social deprivation alters [reduces, I assume], dopamine signalling". Which ties back to a very common perp theme among TI's; imposition of limitation of social interaction. For me, a seeming pariah of TI's, some of whom find rather thin excuses not to talk to me, (like one TI, calling me a perp for crissakes), my family have been notably absent in all of this insane and abusive shit that rained down since 04-2002. When the Fourth Reich illegally jerks you into hospital for 5 months and take away one's very useful dopamine supportive medications and substitute it for dopamine blocking agents (agonists), one has to wonder what is the perp's preoccupation about dopamine. Some days I wonder if this whole insane nearly 15 year long abuse-athon isn't about nonconsensual human dopamine research. Though I would posit that the wider population is also being researched in a covert manner; every wonder why governments do absolutely squat about addiction problems when they could arrange a program of high dose IV vitamin C (here too) that would end the patient's desire in most cases?

We tied down vines from 1100-1700h today in the gusty conditions with spatters of rain too. The perps haven't let up on winter weather yet; I am grateful for my ski jacket still. And for some reason, no hat-attacks; in fact they made sure it was pulled down to my glasses and seen in my peripheral visual field. They even put on a helicopter hovering exercise across the lake from the vineyard; it seemed to be testing a monsoon bucket and took an hour to do so.

More gusty weather with some rain spattering thrown in, plus a few tantalizing shots of sunshine. All this while tying down canes. One co-worker has been exchanging CD's with me, and I returned one to him at lunch at his vehicle and big burst of dope smoke came forth. That explains his need for solitary breaks. The perps then kept this up by planting dope smoke smell up my nose every 20 minutes or so all afternoon; a little shot to remind me of what an unpleasant stench it was.

I have had the annual ant invasion for a month now, and early one they arranged for one to crawl over my neck, onto my face and my glasses before I got the the thing and crushed it. But ever since then I have been getting the "creepy crawlies", the sensation of ants crawling on my skin, and especially while seated here at my desk. The ant outbreak is concentrated at the two places I spend the most time; the kitchen and my desk. Ergo, this is where I get the most attacks of the "creepy crawlies". As before, the perps can arrange sensations on any part of one at any time, and seem to get great mileage from emulating ants crawling on me when it has not occurred since the first live (real) one. I have crushed some 40 ants tonight since I came back, and these erupt at the times the perps so love to interrupt; making dinner, about to eat dinner, cut-paste activities, and when bookmarking. Yes, even the insects are remotely manipulated.

And what is it about the row that I am working on that is so interesting to my co-workers that they need to drape their coat on the trellis wires? Why not their own row so they will be more certain to see it afterward? What is this, some kind of deference or dodge?

 A wine tasting for the viticulture crew today, on work time no less. And the owner was there, and a personable and interesting fellow he was. The guy has class, and a long term perspective. Much different than the last outfit.

After the initial frost this morning it warmed up, making my ski jacket redundant after 1000h. The sun did go behind high cloud for the rest of the day, but at least it was warm.

 A busy day off; laundry at the laundromat, then the drop-in clinic to try move the dopamine deficiency problem along, then car insurance x2 (because I still haven't managed to sell the Camry), and then a haircut, and then an afternoon meeting with a vineyard owner about a part time gig.

And new plates on the Ford Escape as I am now the sole owner, my mother having signed all the papers in December when I visited. We were joint owners for the past three years, but she has given up driving, so with this ownership relinquishment, I am the sole owner. That means new plates, and they were duly installed and the old ones taken off. The perps have a fetish on vehicle licence plates, either from this province (BC) or elsewhere. I have no idea what they are on about, but for them, new plates is an exciting event.

Exciting enough that they had me get my haircut afterward, this time from a young and slim hair stylist in training, with a bronze tinge to her brown hair. She took a while, and had to be trained on cutting eyebrows, but she did a good job. Again, a staff crowd at the till when I finished up; the young overweight hair stylist from my last time (6 weeks ago), "happened" to be standing there and deigned to say hello. I think today's young stylist was behind me at the time of payment. She seemed spaced out in terms of personal engagement goes; it is rare that I initiate conversation, but I did. She was left handed, so I asked her a general question on what is it like to be left handed, and I got a short rambling reply. It could of been an entre to nattering about plenty of things, but she played the spaced out card. She wasn't terse or abrupt like I so often get, or otherwise scared shitless, just plain out of it. And why were so many overweight young women trotting back and forth while I was getting my hair cut?

The other hair theme was old ladies getting their crimped (fugly to me) grey hair attended to? This leveraged the hair theme from the prior doctor's visit. The female doctor had crimped curly greyish hair, more grey than before as I had not seen her for at least 18 months. Normally at this drop-in clinic they put on the younger male doctor on Saturday mornings, but today it was this female doctor who has been only borderline pleasant for some reason. But she concurred with my dopamine deficiency thesis that has taken 4 weeks to get together, and sent in for a referral, which is what I was asking for. (Lack of dopamine means lack of motivation too, though we also know who can also govern that by remotely applied means).

Sunday, and six hours on this part time vine tying gig that started strangely yesterday. They asked me to come by with my resume to meet me, which I did, but also suggested "trying out". Fine. I chat with them, and they of course don't have time to phone my references, and then ask if I brought my tools with me, which I did. They then asked if I could start, and I did. And it seemed the "trying out" was bogus too, as I was tying down as I have been taught, and they had some convoluted way of doing it which threatens to girdle the canes. They liked my method of tying down, and I was kept on for 4 hours. It was even warm, and no ski jacket on Saturday. Sunday started warm but was cooled down by three cool clouds blowing in cool air, and good for two hail episodes, though nothing substantial.

I found the whole vineyard gig to be most odd; They have been growing vines for 10 years and it seems they really didn't have much of a clue.

And as it "happened", just as I was about to start this part time job, my employer from last year stopped by on the road and chatted briefly. Said employer's vineyard is only 100m away, so it is all too convenient to have a part time gig that close to my full time employer for the last two years.

And what is with the dudes who live at the perp station in the back lane? The dudes who run HD motorcycles at high-perp harassment moments, and have lane blocking parties on Monday (post yoga) nights. There they were again, blocking the public lane with their pickups, this time it was only two and they were in the middle of a welding job. I had pulled into the lane only to find it was blocked, and there they were, pretending not to notice this outrage. I backed out and drove around the block to then back down the lane to get to my usual parking location. Again, the dudes pretended not to notice the inconvenience they created. Add in the welder's generator noise, and lo, situation usual; victim arrives home and crank up the noise.

Enough of the grind for the week, and onto the next.

Monday, March 20, 2017

Glassware Sabotage

And what is it about glassware that so interests the perps? From glass bottles to glass storage vessels, they are totally besotted. So much so in fact, the assholes punched a hole in my borosilicate glass Bodum vessel. It is just the perfect size to grasp, and serves to keep half my smoothie in for the next day. BUT FOR SOME REASON the assholes needed to break it, this time surreptitiously, as they didn't cause me to fumble or drop it, their usual routine so to blame the victim. None of that; I cleaned it, put it in the rack, and looked at it a while later, and lo, if the assholes didn't put a hole in it, pictured below. No glass pieces to be found in the sink or anywhere and more unusually, no cuts, aka, bloodletting, one of their all time favorite jerkarounds.  And what is the meaning of that for crissakes? All to change up the vessel I suppose, and too, change the design as I don't see these straight sided vessels available any more. Who knows, maybe the new ones come from a different factory too, and that fascinates the perps too.

Long time regular readers will know that they pulled this shit over my Bodum coffee maker about three years ago, and as part of it, had my mother's one drop out of the cupboard and smash, all so I could recover the hardware parts. Later, I took her hardware parts and mated them to my same sized coffee maker, to re-construct a coffee maker with different generations of parts, vessel, handle, stem, filter and lid. Then a year later they fucked me out of drinking coffee with the invoked pissing problem.

 Anyhow, Monday night yoga stalk wasn't quite the "squeeze together" show of last week, and the dude count was down to 4, from six. They put the blonde babe back on again, this time at the other side of the room, not beside me like three weeks ago when she was last there as a major distraction. In the lobby after class, she came to "visit" in all her gorgeous legs, (wearing shorts) while I was putting on my footwear, strutting about and making sure I saw her in all her majesty. Then they inserted the regular stalker dude following her, the one who hangs around me and "happened" to be on door stunt duty last week.  That is, the one who was on the other side of the door of the practice room when I opened last week, a regular stalk-stunt that "happens" far too often to be coincidence. Now that the cold weather has abated, I must devise a way to get the hell out of the yoga lobby area faster, so these loitering Fuckwits don't have a chance to put on their show. But one can readily figure out their countering ploy; instead of letting me leave the class first or second, with everyone hanging back for some weird reason, they will suddenly start hurriedly leaving and block my egress. It is worth a try, just to see if the mass stalking behavior suddenly changes.

Pruning vines all day yesterday, and today. The good news is that we have finished pruning the some 30 acres, finishing late today. In characteristic fashion the perps sabotaged my electric pruner set yesterday morning, just after the morning break. The electric pruners had been working fine the day before, and for the first two hours. Then it just plain conked out. Classic perp timing; when 80-90% done, the essential tool craps out. So I used hand pruners (secateurs) and loppers to do the job, including all today. So I was the one of five without the red vest with its integral battery pack, and of course, no electric cutting tool. And what was that all about? Four of the five of us have identical models, all purchased at the same time last year, and all of them held up fine except for the set that I had. (We each kept the same set each day). So what was that piece of sabotage all about? In past experience, the assholes have multiple aims; no red garment (vest), no battery pack on my back, no EMF discharge from the cutting tool, use of different hand, wrist and arm muscles in manual application of pruning tools etc. All while the rest of crew kept going with using their electric pruners of course. All fascinating comparative details if you are a perp Psychopath and have been hounding the victim for nearly 15 years as to what color of garments one wears, proximity to electric energy fields and EMF pulses. And all the better while pruning, as in cutting plant material, another perp preoccupation that has been evident early on since they first went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.

And I suppose, when one reads "The Secret Life of Plants", and finds that plants have a electro-sensitivity to adjacent plants being harmed, it seems to add the perp need to discover something about plant-human (psychic?) interactions. Lets see; human have been plant tending for 10,000 years, and assuming the Psychopaths (perps) were present then, then why in the fuck have they rounded on me in this macabre nonconsensual human experimentation project, after arming me with a battery pack and an electric pruning tool, and as a job, pruning vines for a living? I don't know, and I am sure a lot of abetting assholes (scum-inals in my parlance), who do know.

And what was with the cough-stalking with my crew members today? Four of the five of them broke into coughing while proximate to me, plus a few well timed sneezes. And fakey coughs too. The boss man had a cough all day long and had an unerring knack of timing his coughing just as I put the manual pruners around the vine cane I was about to cut. Another piece of adroit cough timing was when I had just made a pruning decision as to what to cut. So do they sign up to be invaded so they are forced to cough at the exact moment that is perp preferred?

Onto another current beef; I have been trying to sell my Camry for two months now, and so far I have got three text/email responses and one person came and saw it, but didn't buy it. Today another (rare) call, and a tentative meeting, but she phones at the appointed time to say she cannot make it. At least she phoned, unlike other no-shows. Other prominent sale blockages of the long past include real estate and lo, if I didn't lose a bundle in a stable, if not, rising market. Never mind been hung out to dry for a year.

After three weeks, my RCA interconnect cables arrive in the mail, precipitated by a solder "failure" that self erupted inside the RCA plug housing of my extant cables. It took a 10 days for "Express" mail to make it from MN to BC. Then to add insult to injury, the landlady kept the package overnight and dropped it off this (Saturday) morning when I was out attending to laundry. Given the need the perps have to mess with connecting cables, including driving (vehicular gangstalking) all those phone and internet service vehicles around me, why should be I surprised?

The perp's need to add the "running Fuckwit" gangstalkers was finally revealed to me. These are the seeming (out of place) idiots who are arranged to run on the streets in street wear, and do not include the plethora of day-glo runners/joggers out for exercise. The "running Fuckwits" will run on city blocks where there is no bus route, or even on suburban streets where there are no offices. So much for the excuses like running for a bus or late for an appointment. The last-most "running Fuckwit" of note was an E. Indian (from India) running along a suburban secondary arterial in a turban and a suit. No bus route, no nearby stores, incongruous running clothing, so what was the excuse?

Well as it turns out, the basis of aerial flight is the lift provided by the earth's photonic energy field, and not the pressure difference between the lower and upper wing surfaces. Otherwise, an aerobatic aircraft would never fly, as it has a symmetrical wing cross section. Or, aircraft could not fly upside down. More speed begets more lift. So... it would seem the running Fuckwits would be picking up more photonic energy than that of their adjacent gangstalking confreres, and it would seem they want to compare this elevated energy interaction to adjacent other and myself (kept in a densfied magnetic field) in whatever way they do. So you thought the Olympic track and field show was all about athleticism?

A total shut-in day this Sunday, and am still getting motivationally blocked on putting my dopamine paper together so to escalate this multi-faceted problem in search for a doctor that gives a shit. Not forgetting this insane dopamine obstruction theme began in 04-2002 when the assholes shanghai-ed me into hospital and took my dopamine enhancing stimulant medications away (that were very effective) and fed me dopamine agonists (blocking the dopamine and making me MUCH worse). If you think doctors are to help you and are acting in the patient's best interests you are sadly mistaken in my experience. Are we any any further in the West (Canada and the US in this case) than Soviet-style methods of sending state-deemed undesirables into mental hospitals with no due process and for no clinical reason? No. And keep a print out of all your contacts with you, as it saved my ass while in there. And check on what the doctor wrote in the chart (record) before the consult ends, as they will fucking lie to make themselves seem important.

Anyhow, enough of the daily detritus of dealing with Psychopathic Confederacy and screaming at the assholes so I can key what I want instead of having my fingers re-directed. Some 40 years of keyboarding and this is where I am kept.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Sunday Best on a Wednesday Evening

Last week I drove to the mall where my regular SOF supermarket is on Wednesday evening, around 2000h. Maybe one car in the W lot, and I could park as close as a handicapped parker could do. So as I drive into the stall, why a woman in a wide brimmed hat is coming out of the mall entrance, no shopping in hand. (The mall part was closed, only the supermarket part was open). She had plenty of room to pass by as the lot was near empty, by some 20' even without altering her path any. But no, she passes within 2' of the rear of my just parked vehicle, and as I am stepping out I check her out. (Like, who would be so fucking stupid as to come by the rear of a vehicle with a driver still inside?). As I spot her coming past the rear as I exit on the driver's side, she shoots me a look. Like WTF woman; you are the weirdo, so why do I get this? I close the driver's door and head into the mall while she walks on. So why was she dressed like she was going to/from Sunday church in a wide brimmed hat in this super casual dressed town on a very dead Wednesday evening, and purposely passing 2' to the rear of my just parked vehicle? (On the casual look, the dudes are now wearing shorts for crissakes, and we haven't had a day over 10C this year). I have encountered these peculiar stalkers before who love to walk through where I have just parked or am about to park, but this one was a little different. Why the get up? And why shooting me the look, and not the usual avoidance comportment while scuttling off after so obviously stalking the victim? I don't know, though she did have the same stature as a few other larger obvious female stalkers I have come to know, so maybe this was the same woman. (Ms C of the story as one such).  I won't get into other perp-made obvious speculations as to who this might of been, but those in the know won't need to speculate much.

A day of pruning at the vineyard, and a new dude on the crew, another male pony tail. Now at three out of six crew members, and beginning to look more like a bikers club. Long time readers will know that male pony-tails rank high on the Unfavored demographic list, so it is most odd the perps have kept beating on this theme so much. Heaven forbid when the sunny weather comes and they possibly sport tattoos (very Unfavored). Last year's crew mate, a very interesting guy, had a huge armful of tattoos that I found unbearable to view.

There is a picture of the vineyard annotated (mapped) with the blocks and their ID's on the inside door of the viticulture barn. It serves as useful spatial layout of where we are at with the pruning, and what remains to be done. I look at it on my breaks, just to keep track of progress, as I am viewing it from my chair inside the heated barn. But I couldn't believe the rest of the crew at morning break; as I was looking at the picture map, they (unusually) kept coming and going, opening the door and disrupting my view of the picture map. Just when I re-established my bearings at the prior interruption, someone else would open or close the door and do it all over again. And as the last insult, the newbie stands in front of door, blocking my view of the map. Like WTF; at least 7 interruptions in viewing a picture map inside two minutes, with the coup-de-gras, the "get-in-the-way obstruction". And what is it about visual continuity (with a modicum of processing the visual material) is so important that it must be consistently disrupted so often?

Yoga tonight, and they stuffed it near full even if I did get there 10 minutes early. I should of bailed when looking at at the parking lot. And now a six dude flush, and four of them came to do the stand-in-front-of-me when I was sitting on the couch putting my shoes on. Another did the meet-me-at-the-door when entering the practice room, something that "happens" nearly every time I attempt to enter the practice room. All this getting up and moving around before class starts just has to be choreographed, unless everyone is ADD-hyperactive. And I see my normal power yoga is now moved to an impossible to make time, so perhaps it is time to move to another yoga studio.

Very windy today while outside pruning all day. The one woman on the six person crew was feeling ill and begged off before we finished the one block of Syrah. Within an hour we moved onto Malbec. The perps like to arrange noise and other perturbances when I am moving between different varietals, be it pruning, shoot thinning etc. The crew boss was sick yesterday, so it is going around.

The new guy came around at about finishing time, entering the row of his crew member friend, which was adjacent to me. I hear someone coming, and look, and here he is, he had me already lined up and is staring at him as I look to see who it is. Worse yet, he had his black hoody up, the kind with the sharp tip. There is something Unfavored about hoodies the perps like me to be exposed to, but this dude "pre-staring" at me before I looked up at him approaching was most strange. Not that he said hello either. And too, in the following days he never made the cross vineyard trip to visit his buddy at quitting time anyhow, as they would meet at their shared vehicle in the parking lot. More high strangeness for no seeming reason.

Three CD's arrived today in one Amazon order. Interesting that two of them are re-releases with extra songs, a CD extra each. The incomparable Nightbird by Eva Cassidy has five unreleased tracks on it, and is remixed and remastered. It has an extra CD from its predecessor, Live at Blues Alley. So I will retire the latter and install the former in my music library.

Ditto for the Complete Trio Collection, of Parton, Harris and Ronstadt, a 3 CD edition that will supersede my Trio I CD. (Didn't have Trio II, but do now in this set). The third CD has outtakes and alternate versions, and very much worth it. In other words, a whole lot of file making, renaming, and moving, displacing the original version I have. And to the perps love all that file activity for whatever reason.

A visit to the dentist this morning, getting one amalgam filled tooth milled down for accepting a crown. As usual, the masers and plasma projections were in abundance for the first 10 minutes when there wasn't much happening, except me sitting in the chair. The perps have a need to "paint the room" with magnetic phenomenon when in unfamiliar locations, particular doctor's and dentist's offices. Then the dentist got to work and she took the tooth down. All this online web nonsense about special handling of amalgam removals makes me laugh. Sure, the suction hose was in close proximity to the tooth (and amalgam) pieces flying off, but there isn't any special handling. Unless of course, all ejecta from teeth is specially handled. The dentist got to handle my cheek and all the rest of the professional need to touch the patient. I don't have any idea as to how the perps handle these physical energetic interactions, but they must seriously plan for them. The dental assistant did her bit too in making before and after wax impressions, again, all professional.

Perhaps it is part of the dentist's gruff style, but I don't understand her conversational style of talking to the nearby dental assistant about me as if I am not there. As in, "the reason his (wax) impression was so difficult to remove was because of the spaces between his teeth". Like WTF, I am right there, and she references me as if I am not there. But this isn't the first time this kind of third party conversation style has erupted in my presence, and not just this dentist. I assume it is yet another perp need, depersonalizing the victim, when surely she would not ever forget my presence due the magnetic activity, and whatever other perp preparations are made in advance.

The perps were at their games again while I was in the dentist's chair, more like prone. I put on their safety glasses after removing my own, and lo, if they didn't steam up. I lifted them off my face a little, and within the minute the safety glasses pivot on my head and swing backwards. The dentist asks if I am OK, almost perfunctorily, so it would seem the whole thing was scripted and she had a ready comment. I got a different pair then and they worked fine.

As "usual", the dentist was wearing a face mask and had the special magnifying glasses on so I didn't really see much of her face for the whole time, even if she was 12" away for the half hour it took for her work. The perps love to play up these partial face visibility activities; perhaps why Europe is getting inundated with the hajib crowd. 

Just before payment for dental services the Asian woman (who seems strangely reserved for a service business) arrives, she being present last time when I paid for my tooth cleaning. I haven't figured out what role she legitimately plays in the office, as they only need one office assistant, and they have one. Perhaps they have some personnel changes planned, or perhaps they need to have Asian stalkers while I am making a transaction. Or perhaps she was "read" from outside to inside just before payment, a common technique of correlating outside energy states to those inside. (Regular readers will know the perps are utterly obsessed with stalking my ass when making financial transactions, from coin machines, paychecks, paying bus fare, writing and mailing checks, cash, debit card etc.) Though I am quite sure they have a data bank of many hundreds of my past financial transactions I have made with Asians. And what about the history of Hong Kong and the British in all their drug dealing of the British of East India Company? Surely a gold mine of interracial financial transactions for surreptitious perp research, all without electromagnetic pollution in the day.

A full blown warm sunny day in the vineyard, and I even took my ski jacket off for the afternoon. Of course the perps played some cloud obstructing games and chilled me down, but only for 20 min. or so. And I see the perps stole my toque I had been wearing for the last 6 weeks, often in the prior snow-bound conditions. I don't know what their fixation is over what hats I wear, and what material and color, but every so often they need to steal or trash my hats. They trashed my bucket hat I had worn for the last five years in the washing machine after the last vineyard work day in 2016, so I would not be surprised the assholes have pulled another "hat attack", this one not on my head at the time.

It was fixed wing aircraft overflight today, especially getting those noisy single engine aircraft out to buzz the vineyard for a few passes, maybe 10 aircraft on the day. Later, one helicopter came by. The HD motorcycle noise made its 2017 debut from the road below the cliff, and of course the perps made sure I heard that. Ditto for later this evening at this residence where the back lane "neighbor", aka perp action center,  brought in two HD motorcycles for noise harassment while making dinner, a very favorite harassment situation.

The vineyard crew met the owners for the first time today; they seem like reasonable and personable people.

Vineyard pruning all day today; back to cool climate viticulture. Chilly winds off the re-formed lake ice made it necessary to put on my ski jacket again. As to how the lake got ice back on it after a warming trend is in progress I have no idea.

I wore my city wear-only toque to the vineyard, as my backup one went missing. No untoward scuzzing it thankfully, the usual fate of pristine or clean objects being deployed in a rare substitution. And lo, my regular vineyard wear toque was "found" by someone yesterday, duly scuzzed up. One cannot win for losing with the perps.

Saturday, and leg wax day, and lo, if the rain didn't start up when I was about to set off. I had a few prior errands to do, one being dropping off the bottles at the recycle center, as for some reason they take everything else but glass. Then to the hardware box store where the lineups at the cashiers were nonexistent when I arrived, and five deep at five cashiers when I came to purchase my items. Onto the cosmetology school for my leg wax, but then a forced piss before I was allowed to get ready. A young E. Indian girl on my W side, and the oversized instructor on the E side. I was done inside of 35 min. with two of them on me, no issue with that. The instructor is always friendly and conversational; we talk about wine and wineries, and as it turned out, about music and musicians. It seems she read the same book as I have recently, Keith Richard's "Life". More interesting conversation ensued. Then as it turns out, she was an opera singer, but then she was called away after that interesting segue.

It took the attendance of four girls to get the cash system right so I could pay for my leg wax service. The E. Indian girl was there, two trainees, and then they had to bring in this horrific blondish girl with black lipstick and four rings in her lips to help them. Then they had to bring her back again for another problem. Can we call this yet another financial transaction stalking, or just an extended event? I am so familiar with cash registers going "wrong" these days that I have become blase about it. And what is it that so interests the perps every time I pay for something, no matter the circumstances, e.g. online, in store, cash, debit card etc.? And too, returning something is a big deal for the assholes.

Back in the high-abuse and intense harassment days of 2002, it was quite obvious that financial transactions were a big deal; these male Fuckwits would suddenly arrive around me while I was at the cash desk, sometimes in these ridiculous poses where they obviously weren't shopping for anything, back facing me. I assume they were teleported in, as they arrived soundlessly and in close proximity within five seconds or less of having looked at the same location where there was no one. Who are these fuckers, and why have they been harassing the living shit out of me for nearly 15 years?

Saturday evening now; what a piss-assed "self" imposed disruption day; do this, interrupt myself and do that, go onto something else, and repeat the interruptions again from the beginning. I found that my coffee table, built under high-stress circumstances when the perps unloaded on me big time in 2002, including Ms C. of the story (27pp.) and her drama queen act, has a glue joint that somehow "failed" so it doesn't support the table top. Onto chiselling and sanding to get the old glue out and re-visit the big box hardware store to get a different glue that expands in the joint. Except that I had to take care to tape off the joint, cautiously joining only two pieces instead of three at once. Even still I had glue expanding onto the outside and needing to be wiped off with mineral spirits. Nothing like that pong to go to bed with. All part of the chemical ether perturbance I suppose. Later in the morning I find the assholes had me "forget" to put the lid on, and to add insult to injury, the humidistat controlled bathroom fan was turned off. Said fan has an annoying habit of coming on when I am listening to music, or when in the bathroom, timed to the start of my activities there.

A sunny Sunday, and so off to McIntyre Bluff for a hike. Last week I did the same, except that it wasn't sunny, and it had 4" of snow on the ground. Today, hardly any snow, and mucky only in a few places. I had my usual retinue of trail stalkers, and can hardly wait until it dries up some more and I can get to my nearby "back country" sunning spots.

The HD motorcycle noise in the back lane started up when I got into my morning chest hair plucking routine. Said noise also erupted before I set off. And was there "for me", when at the top of McIntyre Bluff. Non-HD motorcycles escorted me on my way back on Hwy 97, pulling this gonzo passing stunt when I was already doing 105kph when the speed limit was 80kph. Not only that, he had all of 8 seconds to pull this idiot show off, and pulled back in the lane some 10' from my front bumper. He was the bravest of the six of them, as the rest slowly arrived to pull these same idiotic passes. Then they suddenly slowed down when there something odd on the other side, no police, but a seeming radar set up. For all that extreme road passing, the assholes ended up immediately in front of me approaching Okanagan Falls. There, Hwy 97 turns L, and if you go straight one can take the alternate route along Skaha Lake, the Eastside Road, slower, and only two lane. The motorcycle stalkers took the L route and so I went straight and took the alternate route. About 15 minutes later, who do I see in the rear view mirror? Why all the motorcycle stalkers again. The Fuckwits had re-grouped and changed their driving plans to then follow me, this time with out the gonzo driving. There is no getting away from motorcycles (noise and stalking) when the weather turns sunny, weekend or otherwise.

Too much chocolate consumption these days, and I the craving won't stop. And how many doctors have I mentioned this to and got nowhere? Perhaps 10 over the past two decades, and not a one of them is any help. Is it just me, but why are doctors so useless? I still haven't finished my pissing match with the obdurate laggard urologist, and for some reason I have been hit with a motivational lapse to deal with this fucker.

Anyhow, enough Rants from the Rabbit Hole for this week.