Sunday, December 24, 2017

More Lighting Installation

Only a day after getting some more lighting parts to take home to Penticton, I return to the same lighting store with my perp-abetting mother to re-do the lighting in the kitchen. I installed 20'' of track in two locations here, and know this particular lighting system well. Yesterday I had someone helping me who was totally on top of it and very helpful. Today, with my perp abetting mother adding her dip-shitting and dithering, I get stiffed with the dumbest store help I have ever known. What did  they do; have her start yesterday and not train her on lighting fixtures? She had nothing to offer on any lighting source, track fixtures, bulb  types, color temperatures etc. It got to the point I suspected her of holding back and willfully not saying anything. Plus, she screwed  me on the track; I wanted an 8', and 4' section, and she came out with three 4' sections. When I mentioned this, as she was not about to divulge this obvious discrepancy, she told me that the two 4' sections would work. So if she told me this, and clearly didn't know squat about this track system, why on earth did she make up this obvious fabrication? All to screw me some more as it turned out, as the center line feed could not fit where the two 4' sections joined. I had to fudge it with a minor kluge, something I absolutely hate to do as I get burned (metaphorically) nearly every time. (Especially in my last gig in IT, where the kluge was imposed by the short term thinking boss man, and per usual, I get to wear the unfortunate result of missing the deadline). But of course at 1700h with it dark out, the store closed, and the kitchen lighting out, I had to kluge it.

My mother decided to also buy a torchiere light too, one with an add on reading light. The same dipshit store help woman told us that there was a model in inventory in a box. Great, no elaborate precautions needed to take it home. Some 10 minutes later, she says it was sold earlier this morning, and lo, only the floor model was available. Fine, we will take it, but she said it first has to be packed. Fine, we will wait, and that we did for at least 15 minutes. It is "packed" in the most amateur way possible, with some loosely wrapped bubble wrap, some that didn't make it to the vehicle outside. Then when about to load it, carefully, why, an crappy white vehicle pulls up beside me, and two Fuckwits putz around and do whatever, as they never did go inside to pretend to be customers. (There wasn't any other business at this  location).

Then I noted to the continuing dipshit store help that the floor model torchiere lamp was without bulbs, when it had bulbs as the floor model minutes earlier. To which she said, "we don't sell lamps with bulbs". Like WTF; a $700 total purchase, interminable waiting after being mislead as to whether it was in stock or a floor model, and she then takes the bulbs out of the floor model and then doesn't say anything! Then charges my mother for the bulbs. Not only do we get stiffed with the dumbest store help, but we get sabotaged twice by this same woman (bulbs, and aforementioned track fitting problem). What part of that wasn't scripted?

While installing the track I was beset with forced dropsies, lost screws etc. Then I had the misfortune to have the track mount holes align with the rafters and no screws on hand to anchor to them. In true perp project management style, that necessitated a trip to HD, and lo, another gangstalking scene. And two Fuckwits there where I needed to go, apparently engrossed in their discussion, that one extended his arms aisle wide just as I was passing so to clip me on the shoulder. After the "sorry" bullshit, they  then moved some 4' away to dog me while I made my choice, and then the other one in a dayglo jacket was also extending his arms in the course of their seeming discussion. Like WTF; why is it so important to them everytime I made a decision? (And of course, they like to make it more adverse by crimping me  down on the choices to amp up the vexation before making a decision.)

So what is it about different light sources that so interests the perps????

Saw the musical Chicago, as it was playing for 7 shows this week in town. That is, Victoria BC, the gangstalking capital of Canada. It was my perp-abetting mother's idea,and she coughed up the loot to see it. I was on attendant duty, as she isn't very mobile, and as regular readers will know, has long "put on the ditz". Now, more like ditzing, dithering and doddering. All perfect perp themes, as they love indecision, slowing me up, and otherwise running interference.

It was an afternoon matinee, which made for downtown parking issues. I reckon we spent 40 minutes looking for parking all over town, with intense vehicular traffic all around. Not to mention a tour through one parkade that somehow "forgot"  to put on their lighted sign to signify "full", so that was seven levels of driving around to no avail. Eventually, it was the more expensive parking to be had at the convention center, who had one last stall where I had to pull the mirrors in and park with the drivers side 2" from the concrete wall and exit via the passenger door. Then a 5 block walk with my mother with a cane, and mobility issues. So much, that if left to her devices she would of used a walker. Naturally, this slow walk was a total set up for gangstalkers, and the faux vagrants loitering around for no apparent reason.  The venue was a former cinema with no elevator, and had no railings for the last leg up the stairs. (My mother needs something to hang onto, and the lighting conditions there didn't help any). Fortunately, the attendant stepped up and aided her the last 15 rows to her seat.

Exiting the theater was from a different backstairs route, a 15 minute descent with railings all the way thankfully, and a minimal amount of theater patrons coursing and crushing around. Afterward, my perp-abetting mother was fixated on a nearby specialty meat store a half block away. So I helped her there too, and did the needed translating and decision making to get that done in relative efficiency. Within a minute of exiting the store, why, the two leading ladies of Chicago, Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly just "happened" to be walking toward us on the street, arm in arm with scarves over their hair, with Roxie passing me by on my immediate L side. In typical perp managed form, they were looking down or elsewhere. I suppose it was now 20 minutes after the show ended, and given that it was 1630h, just maybe they needed to go out for a bite. Though I do find the coincidence level just a little astounding.....

Similarly, back in 2008 I attended my daughter's graduation ceremony, and afterward there was an informal get together in the lobby, with parents and students alike. Well it "so happened" that the valedictory speaker hung around us, she seen from the stage the whole time, and then happens to loiter in my proximity. I find these "on stage, and later proximate" coincidences to be far too frequent since all this abuse and managed circumstances rained (or reigned if you prefer) down on me since 04-2002. Though at the small (120 seating capacity) club I sometimes attend in Penticton, it is common for the performer to hang around afterward, or between breaks, and invariably I pass by them. I have no idea as to why the perps like to manage this. Another variant on this is to have the performer stare at me from the stage, and of course raising the inevitable question as to how they chose to stare at me when the stage is lit and the audience is in the dark.

The logical extension to this is to see persons on TV or in movies and then later in person, separated by greater distance of course, and by the medium too. I don't follow celebrities too much anyhow, and in this part of the world, there aren't  any "passing by" (live). Though back in 2002, about 4 months after this shit came down, I did see Robin Williams from 10' away, at a street corner outside my work building as I was crossing the street, and was heading toward him, and he staring at me for some curious reason. Someone adroitly came along and started talking to him just before I was about to say hello, which is all I was about to say.

Back in about 2010, and  probably documented in a blog posting, I swear I saw Helen Mirren in my usual local supermarket. If it wasn't the look, it was that imperious stare that she has, and that she leveled at me momentarily. I wasn't 100% sure, but again, as I don't keep up on celebrities and how they currently look compared to when I might of last seen them on the screen, which is sometimes a decade apart. There may have been a few celebrities that were morphed over for the gangstalking occasion, but of course I would of not recognized them. I have often wondered about those who sometimes loiter for no apparent reason, say, sitting down at a bus stop bench while I am there too, for 5 or 10 minutes and then walking off, not catching a bus.

Yesterday, I took my perp abetting mother to a couple of grocery stores; what a insane palaver/clusterfuck show. Every pinch point in the aisles and entrance was covered with Fuckwits, and at one tight corner they had a pallet jack with a load on it, at least three Fuckwits with shopping carts and a "just stand there" male yapper all penning me in. I just had to break out of this insane cluster fuck and leave my mother to her own devices with the shopping cart, which functions as a ersatz walker for the occasion.

Then onto the local SOF supermarket, and again, covered by male Fuckwits, especially at entrance and exit doors, along with the senseless numbers of stocking carts, aka stalking carts, replete with the brown cardboard boxes. When on my own at home (Penticton), I go supermarket shopping at 2000h hours or so to avoid the clusterfuck gangstalk show that erupts around me should there be half an excuse to do so. Of course they screw with my long established habits at times, and have me go grocery shopping at high traffic times as needed, by them.

More grocery shopping today at 0900h, getting the turkey at a local specialty store. Thankfully it was just me, and not my mother adding her doddering and ditzing into the deal. Another major cluster fuck at every turn and aisle end, and again, the now ubiquitous stocking/stalking carts partially blocking the aisles, along with the dude stocker/stalker. Just what is it about this town (Victoria, BC, Canada) that has to stalk and clusterfuck me at every turn? And added to that, pit-lamp me, (shine headlights) on me when at corners, turning around, getting in my vehicle etc.

Anyhow,  this PC at the First Feral Family house is getting hammered and it is so slow that I must wait for the mouse to react. So I will call this done enough for posting.

Monday, December 18, 2017

Futility Completion Episode

Working all day on cane collection in the vineyard, and it wasn't quite so perishing cold as last week thankfully.

Then a 1600h visit to the shrink, which all began because I wanted to resume treatment for my dopamine deficiency, aka ADD back in 02-2017. Though, dopamine is a hormone, and has wide influence on adioposity (fat deposition), immune system mediation, kidney function, urinary function, as well as the usual hit list of cognition, mood, and experience of pleasure. This is the third visit, and owing to the harassment, he declared me dopamine excessive, which means we weren't going anywhere. At the last visit, he was to get the records from the shrink who declared me to be harassed, and/or make phone contact. As it "happened" the records never came, and this shrink didn't bother to make the necessary phone call. Unbelievable, especially when faced with such a dichotomy of diagnosis versus the detail I brought to the table, a SPECT scan which diagnosed ADD - Inattentive subtype, as well as a urine test which determined that I was dopamine deficient. I can thank the perps for all that; the harassment and unconventional bizarre abuse, and this shrink seized upon that and decided that I wasn't ADD. Fucking absurd. But totally predictable, even based on Dr. John Hall's book, Guinea Pigs.

After successfully and roundly condemning his diagnosis for the last two visits, I was rendered a pussycat, when in the least, I should of reamed his ass out for not making the needed phone call to the former shrink. In other words, this asshole didn't want to know. Anyhow, all was civil, as in the prior two visits, but this shrink Fuckwit royally screwed me as I see it.

And he started today's session with the most bizarre introduction, saying, "congratulations, you have never been in more control in your life". Like WTF; what is that supposed to mean, and what does he know about control in my life that I don't know? Or was it some kind of perverse pep talk that is particular to the profession? (He has never done anything like this before in two prior visits). As mentioned, I was totally "pussy catted", as in made to be docile, so I didn't challenge him on his perverse statement. And why congratulate me when I have nothing to do with it?

Anyhow, he was suggesting I get a second opinion, which would be code for "get lost, you are done here". Which to me, was, "thanks for supplying this reason so I can shake you off the hook and call this absurdity over". Onto 2018, expecting that hope springs eternal, and that I can find a substantive diagnosis that will support me healthfully and happily. I still riles the shit of me that I spent the greater part of 2017 expecting forward progress on my dopamine deficiency issues and this asshole took me sideways for so long.

I wrote my letter of dissent for the shrink's file, aka chart, and dropped one off for the referring doctor/walk-in clinic. That it was a ringing indictment of his incompetence goes without saying, but I kept it civil. I don't  expect to change a thing of course, just that it is on the file. The perps scrambled me badly at first in writing it, then eventually it was allowed to become cogent and organized. And I see that they were ready for me when I dropped the letter off at the doctor's  office; a three way cluster fuck with a Fuckwit trailing me in, another exiting the office and the office assistant on the phone for an extended call that was obviously protracted for not very much.

What's with the intensive pit-lamping of late, especially around 1800h, dark now at this time of year. It wasn't enough to have the vehicle at the curb opposite with his lights pointed at me from a block away, but he had to then pull away from the curb when 20' from me and then point his headlights at me, as if he were about to collide, always good for getting my attention. As this was at a corner, he then pulled across the road behind me; from curbside to L turn onto an adjacent side street. I don't think I have seen something so obvious as this before.

Then when in the parking lot at LD a woman pulls up in the stall behind me, one off set. And sees that I am walking toward my vehicle, and when I am in it, she then pulls beside me, stops, and then crosses in front of me. And then to lead me down to the opposite of the mall, and park there. About 10 minutes later when in SOF, there she is again, "happening" to be doing her shopping too. Talk about over-obvious; a vehicular and ambulatory stalking combination, from one end of the mall to the other.

Fussing around today and getting ready for my 8 hour road trip over two mountain passes tomorrow.

But what a colossal vehicular gangstalking and clusterfuck both when I took my sweater to the E. Indian alterations woman, as the ever reliable Phillipino woman closed up shop earlier this year. I had this sweater lying around for four weeks, as the alterations tailor said he couldn't fix it as the material was too elastic, (a wool sweater). So, pissed with this impasse and that it sat around for so long, I took it in as it was only three blocks away. The usual hang-around male was there at the desk, but once done, and I got into my vehicle, there was this train of 30 vehicles that came down the street at 1500h when it was my intent to cross this road to make a L and take it back to my place. But that inconvenience wasn't enough; I had five other vehicles on my side of the road; one turning into the parking area to drive into the parking stall I had just vacated, and others to arrive, or attempt to depart at the same time as I intended. I must of sat through three traffic control cycles before someone stopped and let me through the train and at the same time, ensuring that there was no traffic from the opposite side. I don't think I have seen such a confluence of vehicular traffic arranged for maximum inconvenience since the days of 2002 when they went totally berserk, even at 0300h up and down the I-5 and I-90 when I lived in Seattle. The proximate congestive traffic fuckery, as well as the pit lamping has decidedly ramped up over the past three weeks. They might be getting me ready when I get to Victoria, as I haven't been there for a year, and surely they have increased the gangstalking density there too.

I went to get my repaired sweater at 1645h, a more likely time for an arrival of a traffic train, and lo, it was just a clusterfuck. At least four vehicles arrived to parallel my turn, and/or make an opposite contra-concentric turn as I exited from this same location, one being the same kind of vehicle that I was driving, the now ubiquitous Ford Escape.

Now in the relative balmier climes of Victoria, BC, the gangstalking capital of Canada. A drive from Pentiction, to Kelowna,and then to Victoria yesterday. The mountain passes (two) were bare and wet no less, no packed snow or freezing ice. In fact,  it was bare and dry for the latter third of the trip. Heading up out of Kelowna was tricky for the intense fog, but after 30 minutes I punched through and it was cloudless the remainder of the trip. Even the notoriously thick Fraser Valley and Vancouver traffic was hauling ass at 110kph. A 1.5 hour wait for the ferry at Tswassen unfortunately, but all went OK.

Serious gangstalking today when out with my perp abetting mother especially at the chocolate shop. And the rain came on this morning, seeming to come in an day earlier than forecast.

Digging the compost at the First Feral Family house, and lo, the aircraft overflights start up. The private single engine fixed wings, and a SAC bomber high up. How many years has this repeated itself? At least ten I suspect.

Hiking today; a group hiking event that I got roped into by way of my farm worker friend.  The perps played their infatuation games with the elder-woman; slender, bright and personable at age 65 or so, she seemed to chat up everyone but me and my farm worker friend, and made sure to pass by in front of me much more than anyone else. 

I find myself reading about spying, the traditional kind as directed by state agencies; to wit, MI5, the Ring of Five, and deep moles of the UK security services of the 1950's and 1960's. Given the blundering incompetence (and the chief blunderer getting a knighthood ("Sir") out of the deal), it does make me wonder if this whole thing isn't arranged at some deep upper meta level. I just cannot understand how such ineptitude was allowed to reign. And to further this deeper conspiratorial notion, the good guys (patriotic, doing their job), get stiffed with detecting, collecting sufficient evidence, and then get stymied by the politicos (and possible Soviet agents). Such repeated itself in the CIA, and then Angleton, the most resolute spy catcher got ousted. The Soviet disinformation games were (are) intense, and once Colby took over the CIA, he made it policy that defector's stories must be accepted. Read more at Soviet Moles in the CIA .  And what might be the purpose of this one government spying (controlling) operation that has factions assigned/pitted for one country to spy on another with the top dogs knowing it is all a prearranged game? I don't know, but as the perps have a consuming interest in information sources, delivery methods, that information may be passed on from one party to another (retelling), and information veracity and its acceptance (and re-appraisal), I have my suspicions.

Enough for a post, and calling this done for the week.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Wait Time

A unusually busy morning of text messages and the landlady too, coming by again to tell me about the heat pump repair guy and the gate arrangements. Said repair guy is now 2.5 hours late. Which owing to my timing of getting up, and the impending repair guy coming, meant that I had breakfast, and then didn't take a shower or shave as he was about to arrive, per appointment. And of course, in the goings on not of my making, there is intense interest in my shaving and any other application of cutting blades, from preparing food, sharpening pruner blades and other cutting tools. Funny how I get a flurry of text messages at times, as normally I would get only two a week.

Now 1730h, and no repair guy. Just to think I got frozen in place waiting for him. All too inconvenient that the landlords took off today, so I have no direct communication with this person. A few things didn't get done today because of this, but nothing infuriating.

Yoga... a UK accent dude yapping at the front desk the whole time I changed, readied myself for class. Then he took off, when it seemed he was asking questions about yoga and was about to join the class. The perps like to plant UK accented male banter around me, which I consider part of the Unfavored show they like to arrange. Right up there with Scottish accents, the odd German accent, and too, vehicles with deep tinted windows, and the collection of clinical themes, white coats, wheelchairs, stretchers etc. The past six weeks of M-F hospital visitations for radiotherapy brought on plenty of the latter examples, and I am glad that is over for that very reason. Otherwise, it was all females apart from me.

A day out in the vineyard, and I even had a co-worker today, and got to talk lots and share the gossip about vineyards and wineries. I hadn't seen my co-worker for a year, so there was lots to catch up on; new owners causing family dysfunctions, past employers loosing their faculties, winery CEO's getting turfed etc.

Two quotes on coincidence I like:
"Coincidence is the word we use when we can't see the levers and pulleys."
- Emma Bull

"Coincidence is best regarded as a crack in time, a gap in time's narrative that requires filling in, elaboration. You see, when the entire story is laid before you the concept of coincidence simply vanishes and understanding takes its place."
- Eamonn Gabriel
Though the second is a little presumptive or broadly elliptical, unless one  envisions a darker manipulative world where the puppet masters remain hidden. For all the arranged coincidences I have experienced, I have yet to attain understanding, before or after the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002. My ex was obviously in on my being a perp pawn, a nonconsensual human experimentation subject, a naive one in those days. She had some workplace friends I liked, but among them there seemed to be a common understanding, one that invoked mirth among them though they never shared the reason, and in particular once, it was about the statement:
 "there are no coincidences, just lessons that one hasn't learned yet".
I thought the statement was a little obscure, and again, they never choose to explain their belief system around it. So what is it about arranged coincidences that serves the perps purpose?

Dr. John Lily, no stranger to some darker forces, though I doubt he was a decision maker in this respect, but an highly intelligent investigator who at least served the greater purpose with his LSD and ketamine use, often in isolation tanks.He had this to say about coincidences;
 To all humans
If you wish to control coincidences in your own life on the planet Earth, we will cooperate and determine those coincidences for you under the following conditions:

    1) You must know/assume/simulate our existence in ECCO
    2) You must be willing to accept our responsibility for control of your coincidences.
    3) You must exert your best capabilities for your survival programs and your own development as an advancing/advanced member of ECCO's earthside corps of controlled coincidence workers. You are expected to use your best intelligence in this service
    4) You are expected to expect the unexpected every minute, every hour of every day and of every night.
    5) You must be able to maintain conscious/thinking/ reasoning no matter what events we arrange to happen to you. Some of these events will seem catachlysmic/catastrophic/overwhelming: remember stay aware, no matter what happens/apparently happens to you.
    6) You are in our training program for life: there is no escape from it. We (not you ) control the long-term coincidences; you (not we) control the shorter-term coincidences by your own efforts.
    7) Your major mission on earth is to discover/create that which we do to control the long-term coincidence patterns: you are being trained on Earth to do this job.
    8) When your mission on planet Earth is completed, you will no longer be required to remain/return there.
Another day in the vineyard, and a bigger crew today. The perps made me late, in a classic move, everyone was there, and I was late. I got there at 0800h at the gate, but I assume, every one came early and went in. No end of early-late games went on this past summer at this same vineyard when I worked with a crew of six. The perps like to either have me arrive early when no one else is there, or in today's instance, arrive late when everyone else is there. This stunt is most prevalent when a larger body of personnel arrive for the first time.

Another day in the vineyard, on a cane collection project. It was cold, about 1C all day, and the ground was frozen. I felt nauseous all day today, but managed to get my lunch down OK; it is just a generalized feeling, and doesn't seem gut related. As the sun went down at about 1500h, and we had another hour to work, I felt really grim. Though by the vehicular gangstalking and the extensive headlight show on my way back, yesterday and today, I assume they were ready for me. They even put a ladder-mobile in front of me, even leading me down the last 50m going down the lane. These ladder bearing vehicles have erupted in such a profusion since they took me down in 04-2002, and of late, there seems to be a vehicular escalation of everything, lights, ladders, trailers, towed vehicles etc.

Later in the evening I felt hot, took my temperature, and it was 37.6C (normal is 37.0C). My new "normal" for the past year has been 36.4C, so this was a 1.3C difference, which is significant for body temperature. I took a tylenol in typical conventional medical practice of symptom suppression, and called it a night. And I even got to sleep within 10 minutes, a rarity, as it usually takes an hour or more. I sure wish I knew what is ailing me in conventional terms, though while being kept in this rabbit hole, it could be anything. The phrase, "what have you done to me now?" is deployed at least a half dozen times a day. Usually the more persistent issues beg for a conventional result, though after going through no end hoops and obstructive clinicians to find the right solution. After the (so far) futile game of attempting to get dopamine accepted as a hormone, and that low dopamine just might be the source of my many health issues, (backed up with test results, and research literature) I don't feel prepossessed to complain about an acute dopamine deficiency. Besides, I have no information to back up the latter claim. I suppose I should look it up on Google and all that, all to start another round of futility

Sometimes I have to scream at the perps just to type the date out, above date a case in point. They put me through 5 typos before it could be done correctly. I have been keyboarding for over 40 years, so I cannot see any other explanation, which also fits with the fact that my fingers seem have always been guided by a foreign hand at times. As if lifetime ADD wasn't enough; then the hounds of cognitive disruption then descend on one to make matters all the worse. Then they obstruct medical care to deal with the ADD issue. Welcome to hell on earth, in the guise of freedom.

Another reason to scream at the assholes was last night while playing Frida, a film I have seen some 5x, the most watched film I know. I saw it twice at the cinema, and bought the DVD new and  played 2-3x more at home. I put it on last night, and lo, if the assholes didn't fuck me over some 1.5 hours into the 2:09h long film. I could not navigate around it in any fashion, not even chapter hopping. It just plain jammed up. I don't see any other explanation except that it got sabotaged, bought new and played infrequently.

Perhaps it was a sign the perps want me to go to digital storage of my films, as in digital files instead of on disc, though I probably have about a dozen movies. Back about 1992, my vinyl records somehow took on a strange warp that made them unplayable. I looked after the records and made sure they were in a cool place and out of sunlight, and yet "somehow" they warped laterally. That is, the warp would flick the stylus L or R, not up or down, and this problem was through all my records. I could never figure out how it happened, and was sufficiently pissed with the vinyl audio format that I went to CD's. And since the harassment began in 2002, I learned that the perp assholes like to change up the source of my media; from vinyl, tape, to CD, DVD and in the case of music, digital audio files which I use mostly at home. I use CD's in my vehicle.

And I do see some scanned photographs that have gone missing on my PC, all being family photographs from the 1950's. I know that I am the only TI complaining about missing TI's.

So far, they haven't screwed me out of books and paper, but who knows what is coming next. There was one woman from NZ on the vineyard crew who read "books" on an electronic reader during our 45min lunch breaks, some of them the same as what I was reading in paperback. (I would give her book suggestions, and she would get them in digital files). I also gave her a hardback book, again after recommending it, as it was a novel that was "accidentally" sent to me from Amazon when I definitely did not order it. (As it "happened", this woman went on a three week holiday that covered at least 6 locations I had lived in or visited in eastern BC, northern WA state and Alberta. An astonishing coincidence that she could of picked such a road trip that covered so many of my road trips IMHO).

I call this the perp's information source imperative, though there are so many perp themes, objectives and imperatives that I have almost given up keeping track. But it does make me wonder, this digital realm of our collective culture, and ponder if it might not be a set up to make it go poof through some kind of great EMF purge. And I also wonder about the great sackings of libraries of the day, Carthage and Alexandria, some 1.5 million volumes in total, just wiped out by the military thuggery of the day. An astonishing list of destroyed libraries is here at Wikipedia. Even Canada gets a mention for 2013, when the Fisheries and Oceans library was only 6% digitized and the rest of the documents and maps were heaved out. Well done, and not a freaking word of this was public at the time.

Not too different that the antiquities the US forces allowed to be raided in Iraq, but first blowing open the doors of the museum and then standing around allowing the locals to raid it. This was long after the US high command was warned about this possibility by US based archeologists and other experts, who gave specific advice on that particular building, the value of the artifacts, and the extent of the collection. Apparently Rumsfeld and company had a good laugh when the museum was raided and trashed. Well done, more antiquities trashed, and not too different than the Romans was it?

Enough for the week and to get this posted.

Sunday, December 03, 2017

Clutch Play

Back to gratuitous mention games, as in dropping specific words that happen to be topical, when the perpetrating party should have no idea of such. Or aka, managed coincidences. To wit, I had the clutch in my vehicle replaced, and they finished it early, so my fickle friend drove me to the shop and I paid for it, and it drove my just-repaired vehicle up to Kelowna for my radiotherapy treatment visit today. I had to do a lot of prior online research on clutches to get the one that wasn't ridiculously expensive, nor a cheapie. I expressly wanted to avoid the latter, as this vehicle has had two clutches in 118k km, and they shouldn't wear that fast. (My perp abetting parents owned the vehicle until Jan. 2017). Needless to say, between researching, obtaining, and finally getting the repair finished this morning, the term "clutch" (as in driveline vehicle part, not the woman's purse thing), has been germane for at least three weeks.

And so today at the radiotherapy waiting room, this logger guy was holding forth, and a guy opposite him was detailing his woes about his chainsaw and that it bogged down under load. The logger then started into attempting to figure the problem out; "does it have a clutch on the drive shaft?". The perps now wipe me out so I don't notice these "name droppings" at the time, and only let me in on it later in the day. No doubt this one still has some legs, but I hope it isn't the new drive line clutch that begets more mention.

And the above mentioned logger guy kept banging on the arm rest of the sofa we occupied, and of course, the vibration transmits over to me. Normally I avoid shared public furniture for that very reason. Now in the sixth and last week of M-F radiotherapy, they finally herded me onto this particular seat. Its the same at concert venues, aircraft and like shared seat situations; some asshole starts up the seat banging in order to have the vibrations transmit to me. Said logger guy also did his best to do some arm waving in my peripheral vision; we did that at least twice before in the past two weeks, though not with him. Why does this insane shit go on relentlessly now for 15 years?

I feel fatter than ever today; the radiotherapy has already puffed me up by 15lb, and that was last week. Given the past transgressions of clinical criminality of giving me dopamine blocking medications which puffed me up 30lb, I suspect the gamma radiation of the radiotherapy is depleting my dopamine in and around my prostate. This is a focused beam, aka, conformal external beam radiotherapy, and is aimed at my prostate by way of a prior CT scan that determines its precise location each visit, with a little extra outside tolerance. So... it is clear to me that this whole radiotherapy is all about depleting my dopamine, this time in a very specific location. (Dopamine is a hormone, and not just a neurotransmitter in the central nervous system). Haven't we done this shit before? Yes; 5 months of illegal incarceration in 2003 to give me dopamine agonists that beat the hell out of me. And IMHO this whole prostate cancer would of never happened had I been allowed my very effective dopamine agonist medication, as dopamine mediates the immune system, one of its many hormonal effects. And it simply isn't enough to be dopamine deficient all one's life, and be ADD and dysthymic. Then they jump on the victim, harass the living shit out of him, and then deplete yet more dopamine, all the way to radiotherapy.

Yoga tonight; the usual high turnover where there is 80% turnover each visit. They put on two dudes, one of them going shirtless halfway through. Neither seemed to be much into yoga, and ditto for most of the class. I ended up in front of the instructor, as my usual two locations were taken up, even if I got there early. The dude behind me needed to hover all around me after class, at the pinch point where the coat rack  and the couch to sit down and put my boots on. Been there, had it done to me.

Though arriving at yoga seemed to be a big deal for the perps; the former instructor walked out as I walked in without so much as a hello or a glance, aka the pretend-not-to-know-me gambit. The current instructor, young and easy to look at, then glided into my peripheral vision and said hello, with a smile. Normally she is at the front desk and says hello, as I would see her when I enter and approach the desk to sign in. For some reason the perps had me initially freaked out by her entering my visual field, and blanked me out for a second or two as to who she was. I don't ever make those mistakes; once I see someone I don't ever forget them, especially a yoga instructor whom I see all class, now for at least six classes. I just don't appreciate in any way having my recognition fucked with, and nor do I appreciate being planted with inappropriate reactions.

Another radiotherapy treatment trip today, now the 4th to last. Owing to "hygeine" apparently, they removed all the magazines and the jig saw puzzle which I never bothered with. So... I was suddenly bereft of reading material for my 40 min. wait, and there was always something interesting. And to add to the waiting room blues, the usual radiotherapy machine was unexpectedly down, so the appointment was about 10 min. late. And then to add to the drama, so to speak, the guy next to me screwed off with my clothes in the standard issue plastic bag. They were there at my feet, and his were on the couch beside him, and "somehow" he made a mistake. Anyhow, the RT technician retrieved them shortly, while the E. Indian woman RT technician began to set me up in in the adjacent (to the usual) room. This one was a mirror image of the usual radiotherapy room I have been treated in for the past five weeks. No big deal, and the RT machine was the same, just that its paneling was a blue-green, instead of grey.

Anyhow, I got done, changed, and then on the way out the clusterfucking began; first at the doors with an elder dude on a walker and attendant, who then dithered and then stalked still outside, which by then, I had sufficient room to walk around them and walk through the parking lot instead of the sidewalk. By the time I got to my vehicle, it was a four vehicle clusterfuck, keeping me in place, and then when I was about to exit, it became a six vehicle clusterfuck in this too small parking lot. Then the elder duckie's attendant backed out, and then the duckie on his walker did a protracted vehicle entrance, having to put the walker away in the trunk as well. Why they didn't make use of the roundabout at the rotunda entrance to the cancer clinic I have no idea. A major vehicle pod around me in getting out of Kelowna as well, all at 1240h on a week day for crissakes. The traffic was traveling at a good clip, but even at that, the elder duckie and his attendant somehow kept immediately in front of me for another 15km. This pair covered me at the entrance doors in the cancer center, in the parking lot with their unnecessarily extended vehicle egress, and then when in their Volvo, from the parking lot through 6 blocks of traffic to the highway for 15km. Not bad, it could of been for further.

On the vehicular stalking show, platform tow trucks seem to be playing big; I must of seen at least 10 en route today. (I won't count the ATV in the back of the pickup truck, but there is always two or three of those).

Later, when back in Penticton, the "need" came on to get a salon tan, and lo, there was major traffic trains in place for that. Then the loafers in the waiting area, and another woman (blonde) walking at me and then cutting to my R side in the classic perp stalker move. Even more vehicle trains when headed back to my place. Somehow, I forgot to take my phone, and lo, there was a message from my fickle friend that our former employer had sold his winery to a major player in the Okanagan Valley. As to what was all important to the perps in all of that, I have no idea. I suspect the above mentioned change in the radiotherapy treatment room just might of got them started.

And what is with the older blondes of late? Mid-40's to 60 y.o., shorter hair, no longer than shoulder length, and sometimes deliberately standing around for no reason. Hair is "roughed up", shredded, or whatever the term is for loosely arranged straight hair, but not in uniform cascades. I have been getting more of them at yoga of late, and also at the cancer center waiting room. Yesterday, after finishing my gamma ray treatment, dressed and heading out, (prime gangstalk moment) one was standing in the hallway looking away, leaning on something, and seeming waiting for someone. Not dressed as a patient, but someone who might be helping one, but the waiting room was only 10' away with plenty of seats, so why stand in the hallway? I was looking at her, though there wasn't much to see with her puffy red down coat on, and just then she turned her head to catch my eye. I kept on walking, not wanting to make any further contact. So what was the point of that? To provide me some kind of older blonde visual bait, at the soonest moment of post-irradiative treatment? Had she been in the waiting room there wouldn't of been any likely visual contact, and certainly not from 3' away. There does seem be an older/elder blonde woman show going on of late, though I am hardly looking for anyone. Perhaps the perps are extrapolating my attraction to younger blondes to older ones. I don't know, or care; just leave me alone.

Ditto for yoga last night; the older blonde with the short shredded hair next to me, and her gorgeous daughter one mat removed. Another family gangstalk event it would seem.

And speaking of blondes; the RT technician who sorted out the swapped clothing bags for me was blonde, and young too. Stocky, and not the quintessential model frame, but genuinely pleasant, a rarity. And big on touches too, not just the usual prodding and positioning while I am on the table, getting positioned with the lasers.

... radio therapy, ... doctor visit, waiting room ... ambulance chasing... A real one today, with lights flashing on the highway etc. not just the ones cruising around for no seeming reason. Sometimes they follow or lead me to the hospital from 10 miles or more.

For some reason I ended up at LD in mid-day, when normally I go in the evening. The place is becoming a total gangstalking show. And worse yet, they set me up for a total gangstalking skunk. Not only were the two checkouts plugged up, and no end of Fuckwits in pretend shopping mode, but they posted Fuckwits at each of the four shelf locations I wanted to go. Once I saw the crowd at the checkouts, I dumped my intended chocolate purchase and split. Not only extra vehicles, extra aircraft coverage, even a co-worker "chance" meeting in the parking lot. Another fuckwit standing at his Volvo wagon outside with the door open, and a cold wind outside, and not even smoking, the usual excuse for looking stupid while loitering, other than vagrants and doddering duckies. This post-radio therapy treatment return outing in Penticton is highly stalked as I have come to experience over the past five weeks.

Thursday, and the penultimate radiotherapy treatment today. The waiting room was relatively unpopulated, and perhaps it was the higher elevation snow that deterred out of town patients. It was rainy for most of my journey, though not seriously so. Though, I didn't get into treatment any earlier. It was the two dudes show, the radiotherapy technicians who get to move me into position and line up my markers they tattooed on me back in September. One new to me today, hanging back in the room when I entered with the one that I knew. They seem to like to bring on the Unfavoreds in this furtive manner for some reason.

I got the hallway ditherer buzzing around me when dressed in my togs and ready; the doddering geriatrics are the best excuse for loitering Fuckwits after vagrants. This geriatric stalker was on me when I wanted to exit the waiting room to get loaded up on water (full bladder is a requirement), then again when at the water cooler down the hall. There she asked me about where to pick up the bus. Like WTF; I don't take the bus so how would I know? Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed with my water intake and where I get it from, and what vessels, pipes, filters etc. that it has passed through. And one cannot trust anyone in these circumstances of being stalked and harassed all the time.

And for once they cleared the hallway once my treatment was over and I got to walk at my normal comparative (this is a hospital) fast pace. Absolutely no one stepping in my way, though a few "crossovers", (crossing my path), one being yesterday's medical assistant who got to ask all those questions before the doctor came in the room (and pretended not to know me).

But the perps weren't done yet, as they pulled a two lane closure on the Kelowna (Bennett) bridge S bound, when I was home bound. Only the R most lane was available, and I had to move over two lanes as there aren't any prior overhead lane indicators. And it was the most ridiculous set up of a "traffic accident"; one grey min-van and six (yes) black vehicles were parked up against the barrier, 1' or so apart, and no sign of any collision, not even road debris. And the ambulance, (remember them, driving up and down every day nearly for five weeks), was in the center lane, and the traffic control people were out too. Plenty of flashing white, red and yellow lights of course. As I drove by, one elder male with white flowing locks was being ushered into the ambulance on my side, the putative patient was mobile and on his feet. And the attendant fireman (fire truck in front, blocking both lanes) turned his head to look at me while I drove by. Like WTF; attend to your job, and why single me out with no end of vehicles slowly streaming past. One of the six black vehicles, (all the black vehicles were in a contiguous line, and the one grey colored van at the E end), was a black Suburban with full tinted windows, not unlike the one that would cruise around me four years ago. I have been through so many faked vehicle accidents I have given up counting, though I haven't seen a larger one like this for a few years.

But the perps weren't done yet; two minutes later a Fuckwit pulls and no-notice lane change in my face just to piss me off, just as I was accelerating in the L most lane, and then the truck in front of him drives within 1" of the concrete barrier so he could throw up sand and grit that was there in the lane median next to the concrete barrier. How fucking stupid was that? He could of flipped the thing, he was that close. I need to get a dash cam to record the vehicular stupidity outbreaks, though with my usual (enforced) bad luck, the only time they would put on stunts would be when it wasn't working.

Then as I cruised through my last traffic light of my 80km trip, the perps put on a real accident. A woman in a black vehicle shot out from the fuel station into the path of a oncoming white vehicle, and they contacted front bumpers. She stopped broadside to the traffic to then hold up it more, but eventually they both crossed the road in front and pulled over so I could drive past them and witness some real, but minor, vehicle damage.

And what is it with black and white vehicles of late? Six black vehicles were clustered around me when setting off yesterday to keep me stuck behind a redi-mix truck, a long standing perp prop. Today, it was four black vehicles while I was kept behind an tractor trailer at the same location. Yesterday, a strange driving behavior was on show, where the Fuckwit would change lanes at each curve in the road, this at 100km/hour, when there was no other traffic an the lanes were plenty wide and the curves were gentle enough to keep one's speed up. I have never seen anything like this before; normally if someone gets "afraid" of a bend, they put on their brakes instead of crossing over to the next lane, and the weather wasn't a factor either.

Red and white vehicles are also common, arranged together in a single visual field. And then they add in Alberta vehicles with their white and red lettered license plates.

My local fickle friend was hanging out at the mall waiting for his car to be fixed and wanted company, so I obliged with a rendezvous at Starbucks there. Another post-treatment outing as it turned out, and what a holy vehicular gangstalking it was. While at Starbucks I also got to see the construction babe from last year's job site, as she "happened" to be on her way out. We chatted briefly, which is kind of like what it was last year at this very same location; I was headed out and she had just arrived. No time for an extended chat in either instance, but what a coincidence, the only two times I have been to that particular Starbucks, and she flits in or out.

So there I was in a public busy area for about 1.5 hours as no end of customers happened to be passing by, and the close-in backpack sweep didn't go unnoticed either. Even my former boss' wife stopped by without so much as a hello. Another pretend-not-to-know me stalker was the green and black haired woman, a cashier at SOF, whom I connected with at least twice (over ADD), who stood 3' away and didn't bother to look up from her smart phone.

Friday, and my last day of radiotherapy, now six weeks of driving to Kelowna each day is over. I see they had all the plastic bins, possibly for laundry, lining the hallway on my way in, constricting hallway width by 3'. The waiting room crowd was much diminished, only one other. But I do find it curious as to the number of passing Fuckwits that need to stare in while looking back, or stop and look in for nothing, as they are on their way out, post treatment. (I recognized the patients doing this).

Just when I thought I saw the end of Ms. Cne last week, the purposely unpleasant radiotherapy technician of two weeks ago, who only attended me one time, she just "happened" to cruising the hallway oncoming on my last 30' before the doorway of my last radiotherapy session. I didn't bother to glance at her as I knew she would be in her grim countenance state. After her back-and-forth hallway strut of two weeks ago when she put on the grimace for me, she also "happened" to be doing her heading away hallway strut last week as I was signing in one morning, and as soon as I formulated an internal "who cares" thought, a thump noise came from somewhere. Back to thought stalking, or at least, being aware of it. She is attractive somewhat, and I do find her hair especially interesting, but beyond that I have no interest, and yet she plays this unpleasant card. The generalized term for her would be "bitch", but my benchmark for that term is higher than most, so I don't use it as I really had no major interaction with her, apart from a one-time event on the radio-treatment bed and for some reason, she had to apply a solution to my freckle sized positioning tattoo in the middle. Needless to say, the perps played her in mind all the way back, some 50 minutes of driving.

Immigration and the attendant over promotion on CBC and in the media all over; I don't get it as this piece, Immigration Is Destruction articulates. And the civil authorities bend over backwards to "accommodate" the excesses of the perpetrators. Here is the report on what happened in Rotherham in the UK:
The scale of the abuse was horrendous, the violence harrowing... The key fact about this brutal crime wave was that almost all the predators were men of Pakistani and Kashmiri origin, while the majority of their victims were white.
That is precisely why the abuse went on so long and the terrible suffering of the girls was ignored. The authorities in Rotherham failed to act because the race-fixated dogma of anti-discrimination meant that they had completely lost their moral bearings and every last vestige of compassion
I am not the first to mention this, but it seems that these targeted rapes (e.g. Rotherham) that this whole government promoted multiculturalism is nothing but a takedown of the West. Hasn't anyone figured out the irony of the African migrants flooding into Europe in droves of late, (though having paid for passage), so they can get away from their own kind and their own behaviors? And somehow they expect it to be different? Meanwhile the do-gooders and the do-nothings prevaricate and equivocate. Di-worse-ity, and still the media saps spout this rubbish that serves their masters.

Mexico City was the most "diverse" city in the world in 1650, per "1493" by Charles Mann) and look at them now. The violence and corruption is rife, and the place is an armed camp. And they still cannot literally get their shit together, as the extensive barrios don't have a sewer system, so fecal dust is flying all over the place in the summer when the weather systems keep it in the basin where Mexico City sits.

More troving on Jasun Horsley's, and listening to the podcasts with Ann Diamond, (parts 1,3 and parts 3,4) a Montreal native in the 1950-50's, and an MKULTRA experimentee, though seemingly she didn't suffer too much and had parents who took a responsible role once they began to notice some peculiarities. She and her brother were twins, always of significant interest to nonconsensual human experimenters, and as far as I could tell, weren't long term patients. Later, she hung out with Leonard Cohen off and on and has some interesting observations to offer on him. Interestingly, he also seems to be an MKULTRA victim, as mentioned to friends and associates of that time and place. Ann Diamond also confirms what I learned from Carol Rutz' book, A Nation Betrayed; that the criminal clinician Dr Ewan Cameron, at the CIA's behest, was working on children. The public version (first known in 1974, but not in Western Canada as I can personally attest), was that he was working on "disturbed" adults, or late age teenagers, some of whom didn't have psychiatric issues. But somehow, the net was in place among clinician, and the ideal patients/victims got scooped for his "treatment". "In the Sleep Room", and "I Swear by Apollo" are two books about this CIA sponsored Canadian infamy that fail to mention that children were part if this Machiavellian nightmare that had the knowledge of the highest in the land at the time.

I also learned from Ann Diamond's ("My Cold War") podcast on Auticulture, that McGill Unviversity in Montreal, or more accurately, the Allen Memorial Institute, threw out all the patient/victim records. So much for finding out if I was there for the duration I lived in Montreal, aged 2-5, 1956-59.  I did write them once about eight years ago, and all I got was that there was no record of me. Of course they didn't say that they threw out all the records of this CIA sponsored infamy in about 1970, before it went public. It shows just how thin the veneer of civilization is, when they "need" to throw out the medical records of patient/victims over 10 years in one big purge. (The CIA did this too for all MKULTRA records. Another CIA "scoop" is The Strange Story of Sally Hartman). And to date, despite the current high drama of the politicians over aboriginal abuses in residential schools, and now the deemed LBGT abuses, (the PM shedding tears in Parliament for crissakes, he being a "B" or a "Q" IMHO) they still haven't addressed the outrageous abuses of the Duplessis orphans, (the supply of children for these medical atrocities), or those of the MKULTRA in Canada. No wonder the Duplessis Orphans have taken the Canadian government to the UN Court a hearing over these abuses. (For graphic eye  witness details of these atrocities see Silvio Day's account at the link). Let's see if our self-declared "caring and sharing" PM can summon the gumption to deal with this one, though I doubt it, as he must be reporting to someone who has been keeping the lid on, just as the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) has.

Anyhow, I have only begun troving through, and it is worth a read/listen for those who have come to their own determination that nothing is what it seems. He is from the UK, now living in Canada, and has a childhood cultural prop kicked out from under him, specifically, the children's TV program host, Sir Jimmy Savile. From what I can tell, he was an extreme pedophile, with abettors at the highest level in the UK, and Europe to some extent. And he gets knighted, ("Sir") for his charity work; surely the Royal advisors must of known this, as it went on for so long, and was so prevalent. Which casts deep aspersions as to what the Royal Family is all about, and who they really serve.

Besides cigpapers, Aangirafan and Mother of Darkness have provided some interesting reading of late. One has to wonder if pedophilia isn't prerequisite for high office, Pizzagate being another example. Its dark down this rabbit hole, and I exist in only one corner of it.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Enforced Delays

More of the forced delays in getting on with things of late. I don't know why the perps like to cause delays when needing to attend to something, but they do. As if it wasn't enough to have my father as a constant dithering dipshit all his days. Me, I am the opposite; if it needs to get done, get on with it. Even this long running disposition is getting hacked more of late. The prematurely worn clutch in the vehicle "needed" to be inspected by the dealership which was a 10 day delay, and they hacked me into waiting for this determination before they let me get the parts online at substantially cheaper than locally. Then, with some overlap before the parts came, they let me check out an independent mechanic who is $335 cheaper on labor, but had a two week wait. And lo, two days before the appointment, the vehicle's clutch is getting too worn for the 180km round trips I make each week day for radiotherapy, so I am going to rent a vehicle for two days to tide me over. And I have had worn clutches before, and I know exactly what they are like, and know that they need attending to. That will be $108; so thanks a bunch assholes; just when I thought I could save $335, I get screwed for $108 less.

But as the perps are so besotted with my vehicle color, and all those around me, it does not surprise me that they need to pull this shit every so often and have me use a different colored vehicle, along with all the other energetic properties of its manufacture; seat materials (and color), steering wheel, wheel rubber composition, steel source and factory location. I am sure there are a few hundred other variables the perps also evaluate with my contact with vehicles, and those around me, but with this radiotherapy going on each weekday, it does not surprise me that they want to change some things up. This is week 5 of 6, so I would assume it represents the nadir (high point) of what they hope to gain from this latest intrusion/treatment.

Then as if the above wasn't enough, there are a pair of winter gloves that I purchased from a reputable BC outdoor gear supplier. The first year of winter vineyard work taxed the gloves and the palm material shredded up on the L glove. These guys back their equipment, so what did I do? Nothing, as in the mind controlled "I". And for two years they sat around, and for that long I meant to get on with them and didn't. (Bought a different pair). And now that I am getting ready for some winter time pruning work, I finally get it together and email the warranty department, and they made an exception for me as the wear would be considered normal "wear and tear". I can see their point. And so why did it take two years to get on with this? I have no idea and it is entirely out of character. Which spells perp mind fuck meddling, as if I don't get enough of this shit.

There have been a few other exasperating fuck-ups of late, nothing major, but seemingly a series of incremental take downs. Some would call it old age, but I say, as long as those assholes are terrorizing me, its them.

Yesterday's radiotherapy had two male technicians unusually. (The technicians push, prod and otherwise position me accurately on the bed and align my markings with the lasers on the top and side). It was usual until two treatments ago that all the technicians were female. Then they inserted one dude with a female, and he was there yesterday with the new dude. Fine, no big deal for me, but as the perps just love to vary male and female interactions, especially when in physical contact with me, why would I be surprised, especially over a 6 week duration? I don't know how they manage all this or what inference to make, but today, it was one female and one male, the second one remaining, the first one was rotated out. Perhaps they sensed I didn't like the look of the first one.

I have no idea why the perps like to mix up the male and female interaction, but they constantly do. Even having a male cashier at the grocery store was rare until a year ago, now into 15.5 years of this abuse-athon and their slow motion nonconsensual human research agenda. And of course, noticed when this first began, they have the cashiers touch me when handing over the till tape reciept. Whatever.

Then the dentist appointment request was also delayed recently. I could of got onto it a week ago as the tooth next to the extraction void bled, no doubt a root break. It wasn't until yesterday in a sudden fit of getting on with things, (above mentioned glove warranty problem too), that I phoned the dentist. I got their answering machine, and lo, a day later they phone back and I have an appointment in two days. Not a huge deal, though the tooth is getting looser by they day, but yet again, another contradiction of my own disposition just to screw me around some me. Just leave me the fuck alone. I will do fine by own thanks.

And what is with the sudden increase of masers in my visual field as of yesterday, noted at the radiotherapy gamma ray device when they were positioning me on the table? More of these wispy black filamentous floaters, along with the round ones that dart about and have the unerring knack of tracking my visual field. And more of them as I type this out in front of my regular LCD display.

Ditto for the pit-lamping games of late. (Pit-lamping is the term I use to describe aiming headlights, (or other) at me. A term used for illegal night time hunting to attract game).  It wasn't enough to have me in someone's headlights from a half block away in the lane when I was about to enter my vehicle. Then they decided to pit lamp me from the W, the direction when I drove off to radiotherapy, at least twice in two successive days at differing times. This from a parked vehicle in mid block on the opposite side of the street. "Not enough pit lamping" said the abuser-in-chief, so they added another pit-lamping vehicle from the W side, this one on the same side of the street as I made the turn out of the lane. And of course, some 80 km (each way) of highway traffic (99% with headlight on) to follow. So yes, the number of Fuckwits sitting at the curb or in parking lots with their headlights aimed at me has gone up at least 30% in the last 4 weeks.

The post radiotherapy treatment stalking has resumed its idiocy. After yesterday's appointment (after the weekend), there was the wall-leaning/lounging security guard outside the change room (four Unfavoreds; military look, gut, male, bearded) and then some hallway obstructing dithering dipshits. Today, another hallway obstructing stalker. Plus, I get the "round the corner" exiting stalker from the change room when just about to enter. I tell you, the perps have every hall, door, entrance and exit covered for maximum "pop out" utility, especially when a change in direction is necessary. (The anisotropic properties of the ether, or whatever interests them so much about my direction changes).

And a post-irradiative therapy vehicular confluence of tow trucks, a long common perp habit to populate unpowered and unoccupied vehicles past me. In a residential area, with one two lane throroughfare, they put on two flat bed tow trucks, each headed in opposite directions, inside of a block. Then a third flat bed tow truck preceded me through the intersection where I turned L. Then four blocks along, a fourth tow truck on Hwy 97 to precede me S bound. Three weeks ago they even put a city bus on a flat bed tow truck in the adjacent lane. I suppose it is also a way of elevating the vehicle too.

Yesterday's yoga was a little different. I go 15 minute early to avoid getting squeezed out, and usually I am the one of the first four yogis in the practice room. Not this time; I was 10th or so, and was relegated to the far SE corner, a location I sometimes end up in. Apart from a two regulars, and no males, it was all new female yogis. I haven't known of such a high turnover, as mentioned in past blogs. One of the sometimes regulars was Ms. Midriff, in her two piece outfit that maximizes her glam figure. Save the fugly tattoos up her arm though, but thankfully they put her in the front row, where she was placed to be in my sight line of the instructor. And so it goes; it is always some kind of Unfavored feature to be on display at yoga, sometimes singly, other times in quantity.

I picked up the white Nissan Versa rental vehicle this morning, and headed off to Kelowna. I wasn't too surpised to see more white vehicles around me, and too, more Ford Escapes, my usual ride. Some extra coverage when I finished changing; I had to walk between two standees in the path of the exit. In the waiting area the Fuckwit next to me just had to start wave his finger in my peripherial vision. Similarly a week ago, a Fuckwit next to me did the same thing. I just move on my chair and attempt to keep these distractions out of my view. But after doing that, why, today's Fuckwit "needs" to get up and cross in front of me and get a kleenex which he didn't need for more than two seconds and then takes it to the garbage at the other side of the room. All these endless feints and dodges around me, often about having a Fuckwit act up.

The weekly post-treatment meeting with the oncologist was an hour later than scheduled. Normally he is on time, I was told today he was on time, and he takes an hour while I sit in this room waiting. What was that all about; anytime something new erupts, like driving a Nissan for the first time in 40 years, things go silly.

Then onto the tool shop to get nitrile gloves as they have a good deal on them. No ordinary visit, as the sign shop repair guy was nearly backed into the front door, and had the red colored 12' long store sign panel dropped down and just missing the front door clearance. Said repair Fuckwit was up the ladder and on his phone when I entered the store, and when looking for a particular tool, why, he was inside too, pacing around while still on his cell phone. (Like shopping for tools while on the job? Give me a break). Then when I exited after my purchase, there he was again. Like WTF; the perps will stop at nothing to put on some extra stupid activity stunt just to stalk my ass, especially when exiting vehicle, and building egress.

Then onto the outdoor store to get my gloves exchanged. I had to go find them in the back corner to get a new exchange pair, and after some looking, with another Fuckwit there, no luck. I got some help, but he couldn't find them. Then a trip to the ski department where more gloves were there. Then another staff and another customer were added into the mix, also looking for gloves. Then the second staff guy informed my staff helper that there was a third location of winter gloves in the store for crissakes. Then him and the extra customer also "happened" to be there, seeming to be looking for the same thing for crissakes. Maybe 20 customers in the store total, and here we have all this senseless crisscrossing, stalking and extra attention over a particular make of winter gloves. All this over an exchange, me taking the beat-up pair in, and getting a new pair. And when filling out my name and address on the return, two pens fucked up, so the cashier puts some backing paper underneath, and finally on the fourth attempt with the two pens, it works. Perps love to pull these kinds of financial transactions and go silly when an item is returned. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, they pull out all the stops.

Thursday, and the last of the radiotherapy treatments for the week. One more day with the white rental car today, and plenty of accompanying action around me on the way there and back. Extra pit-lamping too; when getting in, and when getting out in Kelowna; in the latter instance two vehicles came to sweep or sit there with their headlights aimed at me.

Then back to town (Penticton) to swap back into my clutch impaired Escape, and take it to the repair shop where they have the afternoon and tomorrow to pull it apart, get the flywheel machined (if needed) and can put it together tomorrow. Which leaves me without the vehicle, meaning a 20 min. walk with all kinds of extra road traffic buzzing around me. I have done this walk before, and I even had a few lounging Fuckwits standing around for no seeming reason. I even had a Fat Fuckwit standing at the corner in mid-block when I made the final leg of my 15 min. walk from the auto mechanic to the dentist. Why this woman had to stand there looking at her cell phone when there wasn't even a plausible reason to do so seems like gangstalking to me, as I have come to know in the 15 years of this.

After dropping off the vehicle I went to the dentist for another tooth extraction, as the next-door root canal and crowned tooth failed, and the remnants needed pulling. At times she needed to lean on me for leverage, but with the right extract tools, she prevailed. Some $250 later I was done for my walk back. Same deal as last time; the dentist just screws off back into her office once completed. No follow through or at least, nominal professional interest to ensure the next steps are understood and/or farewell greetings. (All the more perverse as I don't get to see her face, for the mask and loup pair glasses she has on. And there was no other patients there.)

But there were dental care matters that needed attending to; after the tooth extract of 3 months ago, and by way of the dental assistant acting as an intermediary, I was to see a specialist by way of referral. I didn't hear anything, so today I asked what was going on and they said it went through, but they would send it again. Like WTF; why are medical referrals getting sabotaged now? This is the third time this year a referral has "disappeared", and I have had to go back and remind them that it didn't happen. And why is this vague hand-off referral system so wretched, now done electronically? A doctor says they will refer, and then they never bother to check into it that it has happened. In this day and age with email and electronic calendars, why don't they send the patient an email (or on paper) referral receipt that a has a note in bold saying something like, "if you don't hear by xxx date, then call this number". But no, that would be too efficient, remove more possibilities of error, and put the patient in charge to catch the missing hand-off. I have had three medical referrals this year; one failed and I never heard back, and a further two have failed, and had to be inquired about (by me) and re-sent. Three of three medical referrals fucked up this year. Hardly a coincidence. I wish I wasn't getting so pummeled health wise and wouldn't need to deal with this arms-length "throw it over the wall and see who catches it" system. Constant and relentless sabotage over every fucking thing I do. And normally I don't need medical referrals too often, so maybe the perps decided to go nuts on this item this year.

A shut-in day yesterday, even if it wasn't the plan. My vehicle was in for repair, and should of been ready, but lo, a head pipe gasket blew, or else was unusable, and they couldn't get one late Friday. They aren't open today (Saturday), so my vehicle is sitting in the shop all weekend.  Well done, and I half expected a fuck up when coming up against the weekend. The perps do like to move the vehicle on me, not being parked outside, as if it were some kind of color/object change up. It is parked 20' away from my residence on the other side of the fence, so they must be doing some kind of energetic testing. Recall, that the assholes put me through this shit back in February when they took out the power steering pump and its sensor, and the vehicle was parked in the shop for an overnight stay.

My local fickle friend came by in the evening to take me shopping for groceries as I didn't expect to be without a vehicle for the weekend. So he got to accompany me on my grocery shopping trip. In the spring, the roles were reversed as he had a knee injury and I accompanied him on his grocery shopping. Eventually, he did physical therapy in Kelowna for three weeks, just next door to the cancer clinic that I attend, now for the 5th of 6 weeks. Call it proximal stalking perhaps.

More too much wine again, something that seems to "happen" when he is here. Anyhow, he crashed on the floor for the night, and left in the morning. So one can assume he was to not only drive me, but to stalk me with my groceries home, and even even helped me unpack them. Unpacking groceries as well as food preparation seems to be a big thing for the perps.

Anyhow, enough of the boring details, and call this week done.

Monday, November 20, 2017

Half Holiday

With the Remembrance Nov. 11 holiday on a Saturday, this means that some businesses, and government, who are normally closed on Saturday, have decided to take the Monday off too. And as it "happened", the two businesses I went to in an attempt to get a quote on the clutch replacement. And in both instances, there was someone there. I call these kind of events, "skunks", as a consequence of dashed expectations. The business should be open, but isn't. Similarly, if I go to a store for a regular product, knowing where it is, and it is sold out, I also deem this as a "skunk. The perps just love, love, these set ups. As it was today, with extra stalking, extra disruption and prior annoyance in advance. So why is it they need to disrupt my existence so often, with such higher occurrences than before they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002? I suspect it has something to do with a brain dopamine interaction at the moment of successful outcome, and they and their stalker assholes are on hand as some kind of bio-energetic shills/sensors to somehow record the event.

Last month at LD, they even moved the men's shaving products altogether, and when I went to the regular shelf location, it wasn't there obviously. I turn around to depart, and there are two aisle stalkers suddenly on my ass, one younger woman who caught my attention. So here we have a dashed expectations outcome again, but for a different reason; they moved the whole section of men's products, not "just" drawing down the supply of the particular item. But even this minor variation brings on extra stalker coverage for some reason. Why cannot these assholes just leave me alone, and quit obstructing my dopamine situation? (Which is already depleted because I have ADD, and the assholes blocked the very successful stimulant treatment I took from 2000 to 2003.)

No radiotherapy treatment today, a half holiday at the hospital I suspect, though one staff member said they were going to do a software upgrade over the weekend. Perish the thought, having worked in software, and of course, being at the butt end of Windows and other application upgrades. The most feared word in the Western world is "upgrade" these days, and for good reason. Even the Samsung phone upgrades are prone to stupid fuckery just to mess with customers IMHO. The notification of messages in particular; it used to be that every incoming message brought a notification ping tone. But not now; if the text message arrives with 5(?) minutes of the last text (same respondent), it doesn't ping now. And of course, no Settings to change the new and inconvenient imposed notification behavior. So why did they do this? Do they think that every one is sitting in rapt attention to the phone/text device for some pre-determined (by Samsung) amount of time? In my case no; I put the phone away and get onto something else. From what I can tell, it cannot be changed. Thanks for the upgrade Samsung, and I pray you never make gamma ray cancer treatment devices.

And what is with Windows and their Start button, which often flakes out? The Start button is everything; otherwise one cannot view or access one's applications software. Poof, its gone and the PC is hogtied. How is that for a self-destructive upgrade? Same for you Microsoft; do not ever make the base OS for a gamma ray cancer treatment center.

And a whole three weeks into Yahoo's mail upgrade, which I refused to accept, they stiffed me with the upgrade anyhow. As in no choice. So what was the point of asking me to decline the upgrade in the first place? Thankfully they didn't screw it up and functionality was largely kept with all the same visual cues. But after using email for over 30 years, often as in-house software, I really don't need an upgrade. But no, they think I do.

A serious tattoo line up at yoga tonight. Four of them plus me lined up abreast in front of the instructor, and three of them had serious tattoos down their arm. The only one who didn't, was the wife of the overweight male tattoo-ed specimen. Gross, or at least, I find it so, and this whole "tat attack" has been yet another part of the freak show the perps like to put in my face.

At yoga, about 12 yogis, of which two were returning regulars, the rest new. Again, I find it most unusual there are so many newbies each week, most of them don't look much practised in yoga anyhow. For some reason, the regular instructor isn't coming now, and the student fill in of last week is now the instructor. A most strange turnover situation of instructors, but whatever.

Another of my daily, (6 weeks total), trip to Kelowna for radiotherapy. Though today, their system upgrade kicked in for real, and the whole process was slowed down for some reason. Even a radiation oncologist (he said) came to apologize to all of us in the waiting room. Though I suspect he was with the company that made the radiotherapy equipment (at best), all dressed in a suit, as were a few other males. I don't know quite why, as shouldn't they be in some backroom somewhere working on software? Having these suits walking the hallway struck me as most odd. Perhaps it was a men-in-suits abreaction they were looking for.

For some reason the perps jangled me this morning, and I felt like I had two cups of coffee, when I didn't. Two weeks ago, I did, at the behest of the radiotherapy staff. Later today, I worked out, but felt totally useless, and walked on the treadmill for 15 minutes. So much for working out and boosting my dopamine supply. Besides, the gym seemed such a "herding show"; that is, placing Fuckwits around me all the time, some just sitting there in what I have come to know as "regular" gym behavior.

The perps seem to be on the rag today for whatever reason. They even went silly on my parking neighbors at the cancer clinic. That's my Ford Escape backed in, with a near color matched brown-tan sedan beside it, and lo, three same deep red colored vehicles parked around the Escape and the sedan. (Pardon the out-of-focus, as one can thank my tormentors for that, having a knack of moving my fingers at the critical moment).

I haven't seen this stupidity for at least 6 years, since I was in that holy gangstalking town, Victoria BC. The present record for same color surrounding vehicles, parked or in traffic is eight. That's right, eight deep red colored vehicles parked around me in traffic one time.

And just to make sure there was some black reference colors, why, these two were parked in front of me before I set off from the above scene. Looks like a white one was placed between them for color contrast. Those scary black vehicles again, somewhat muted by accumulated road grit. Its the low reflectance that makes them more scary, or at least to me, and possibly eliciting abreactions for a time that I was witness to such, but was memory deleted, (1956-59).

An early, 0900h, radiotherapy appointment today, meaning I had to get up at 0600h. For that, I got nailed with a two hour nap attack in the afternoon.

And what is it about smiles, and grimaces (countenances, or facial expressions) that are so interesting to the perps? This is the third week of Mon-Fri radiotherapy at the same treatment room each time. The regular staff know who I am, having seen me more than once. It is easy to pick out the patients there if they are outside the waiting room (in the hallway); they are either in the standard issue togs (blue and brown), have a toque on (if in chemotherapy), or if just arriving or leaving before they get changed, are packing the standard issue plastic white bag to carry their togs to and from the hospital. Anyhow, I was standing at the water cooler taking in water in the hallway, dressed in my togs, as I am to fill up my bladder, as required. One of the radiotherapy treatment technicians, a woman in her 30's, Ms. Cne walks out from behind me, and heads down the hall, some 100'. I recognized her build and hair from seeing her working with patients in the adjacent radiotherapy unit, as one waiting room serves both. One time she switched units, introduced herself, and got me set up on the table, aligned with the laser beams for accurate placement, as they do each time. She was friendly, smiled, but to be fair, she isn't an over the top gushy bubbly type. Getting back to the water cooler story, as I need to take in 4 cups of water, she comes back down the hall on the same track (inside of 2 min.), and as she nears me, I look at her, and she looks at me with this grimace, and no hint of recognition. Like WTF; is she on grimace duty or what? (Curiously,when she was on duty the one time, she was the only one who needed to rub some compound on my faint freckle tattoo on my front; over a week later, all the others still don't need any kind of solution to augment its visibility).

And then to contrast that episode, as I was leaving, a staff member who I had not seen before, and had no prior interaction with, smiles at me. (Recall that I am recognizable as a patient as I was packing the standard issue plastic bag). I smile back, and that was the end of it. Interestingly, I was near the said water cooler at that moment. So what are these managed countenances all about? Two of the three regular radiotherapy technicians now seem be friendly, having relaxed from their initial disinclination. The third, a younger tall woman, is still in evasive face contact mode. Whatever. It just seems so staged or else she has an severe anxiety problem.

Long term readers, and many TI's, will know that I consider my every move and breath to be choreographed, so seeing people behave strangely is to me, no matter how fleeting, is a managed event.

As an aside, where I get my water from, and in what drinking vessel seems to be such a big deal to the perps. There has been more than one stalker doing duty at the water cooler, just hanging around there for no, or little, seeming purpose.

I felt better today, not jangled. I recall the first week of radiotherapy that the radiotherapy treatment technician had me drink coffee, and I felt very jangled from that. So it would seem the perps are up to some kind of neuro-fuckery, and used coffee intake as the cover excuse. Yesterday, they dispensed with the coffee for whatever reason it seems. Though a cover excuse could be that I worked out at the gym yesterday, though by my standards it sucked. I couldn't get running on the treadmill for more than 3 minutes and had to back down to a stiff walk for a total of 15 minutes. I am getting governed down as to how much effort I can expend at work outs. Last year I ran for 22 min. straight after my iron infusion. "For some reason", I didn't do a running test after my iron infusion this year, 08-2017.

An early afternoon radiotherapy session today; all seemed in order. The oddity was that they sprang a male technician on me. I didn't know until I got into the treatment room, and there he was. He introduced himself, and offered his hand (none of the others did, all female), which I shook. Then he told me as I was getting on the bed that I was in the right spot, and I said that after three weeks, I think I have it figured out. He seemed the hyper type, not one to fuss the details, always a little disconcerting when one is being positioned precisely with lasers on top of the freckle-size tattoos they placed on me with such precision. Anyhow, I suspect the "diversity show" will continue as the radiotherapy technicians tour continues.

For the first two weeks it was a regular three some, though only two at a time, save two different E. Indian females, plus the above mentioned smile-compromised woman, Ms. Cne, all single time guest appearances. This week they are heavy on rotating others in; two different ones on T,W, one of whom only shows up at the end, which doesn't matter a whole lot as only one person is needed to move the bed laterally and lower it, and remove the calf support. Anyhow, being a regular, near M-F event, now at three weeks, and two more to go, I suspect that this particular TI Victim Tour will bring on more visiting variants. Say, male ponytails, male bob-jobs, more brown colored workers etc. But at least the tall young one, who is so face contact averse, finally did look at me today over wishing me a good weekend.

And I see they have cranked on another 1kg of body weight since two weeks ago. I started this deal at 87.8kg, then was 92.4kg, and now 93.4kg. I asked the doctor about it and he said all his prostate cancer patients gain weight. Well, thanks for telling me in advance. Now that they sucked me down barely being able to run on a treadmill, this is getting problematic. I suppose vineyard work will wear some of that down, but I must wait until February for that.

And the "usual" hallway scene when I was dressed and heading out of the change area of the gamma ray cancer treatment area. This time, three dithering dipshits strung abreast across the hallway, adroitly placed at the nexus of the hallway and the crossing path from waiting area to treatment rooms. If it isn't there, it is in the 60' of hallway, at the corner of the hallway and the main lobby, or at the doors to outside. Add on the "usual" pit lamping headlights when I am in the parking lot or in my vehicle, and then add on vehicular clusterfucks when attempting to exit a four way crossing. Then the odd swarm of street stalkers sometimes. Not all of these "happen" every day, but enough to tell me that this is arranged. One day they even put on a cancer patient whom I had seen twice in the waiting room, and there she was sitting at a bus stop three blocks away, on the side of the street headed to the clinic. Like WTF; she could of walked, or else she wasn't a real patient. My post gamma-ray irradiated lower body region state seems to be so interesting to so many people for reasons they don't wish to tell me. Go figure. After 15 years of being harassed up the asshole, stalked everywhere in this insane giant choreography around me, they still won't tell me. Whoever they are of course, but they seem to be hugely influential, and do seem to reward all those who take part.

And it seems that the week's end of treatment (Friday) is also ripe for extra perp stunts. Three weeks ago it was the car audio guy who fixed my car deck's problem by unplugging and then reconnecting it for crissakes, and then drove it whole 60' to the front of the shop. He didn't need to drive it in the shop, and for that matter, didn't need to drive it at all. Then last week it was the Ford dealership's transmission technician who (strangely) didn't want to test drive the vehicle, but had me drive it to demonstrate the clutch was failing. He was a little strange it seemed to me, as normally automotive techs just love to talk shop, and I love to hear it. This week, after negotiating extended vehicle trains all over town, I went to get my weekly salon tan. No interaction of others with respect to automotive repair of course, but there was the woman at the salon, with her daughter or daughter-in-law, and her grandchild. Anyhow, she confirms how many minutes, and I tell her, and she says to go right in. I get undressed and all, lie down, and she hadn't set the master switch. I get dressed, open the door, and yell out over the fan noise and the terrible AM muzak, and request that she turn on the switch, which she does. Like WTF; it is the second time she has pulled this shit, and she has been there for over five years, and is sharp as a tack. And the third time it has "happened" there. So maybe the whole deal was to rile me up, post irradiative treatment state. I give up; just leave me the fuck alone, and fill my bank account before you go.

Everyone else gets cash splashed on them for taking part, and for 15 years I get nothing but insane and sustained abuse, and cancer too. And I get stiffed with the most obdurate stick-in-the-mud Fuckwits this planet has every known, all my working life, long before this reign (or rain) of abuse came down 04-2002 and hasn't let up since. There should be a TI Victims contest, perhaps online, where we brag about what have been the worst abuses, the most vexing, damaging, etc., all kinds of categories could be arranged. Better yet, maybe in the form of a reality show, where we are on stage, and no planted shills to screw it up. Hope springs eternal.

Then a confluence of phone calls when I get back from the tanning salon; a work related one, and then the unemployment bureau was giving me a courtesy call. Like WTF; I haven't had any calls all week, and I get two inside of five minutes just as I get in the door, a favorite perp time to get me it seems. Along with other fuckery at that juncture; scrambling my fingers so I drop the keys, having me "forget" items to force a back-and-forth, jamming the door so make it difficult to lock etc. Building egress fuckery I call it. Though in fact, they often pull this shit when transiting between rooms; having me "miss" turning the light switch on or off is a specialty at these junctures.

Anyhow; I got sucked down into a grim mood last night, so I will post this now, Monday, 1300h, 11-20-2017.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Post Gamma Ray Day

My prostate cancer treatment session (in Kelowna) was at 1224h today; I learned that it is gamma rays that they project through me after lining me up on the bed. I got the "usual" gangstalking weirdness on arrival. An ambulatory stalker was crossing the driveway path to hold me up at the three way intersection into the parking lot, and then made out to cross my path again, but dip-shitted in place. And as I cruised the length of this too-small parking lot, and found the only open stall of about 40, and pull in to park, why, who should enter the vehicle next to me but this same woman. The stalking when parking, exiting the vehicle etc. game has increased considerably of late, and no more at the cancer clinic parking lot having driven some 80km to get there. And too, the stalkers and putzers at the parking meter, and then more when I go through the double doors. This time it was an elder-duckie in a fedora who just had to step in the way of the sliding doors and block my egress. And of course this Fuckwit had go go through first. All abetted by the fact that the doors aren't opening as wide now, presumably because of the winter weather. At least 8 other bystanders on my way to the building wing, and then another pair leading me at a slow pace down some 20m of hallway. Why do I constantly get these loping aisle blockers ahead of me going down this particular building wing where the treatment area is?

[Slight misleading in the title; Mon-Fri is gamma ray day, not just today. I don't know how this title came to mind, and wasn't error trapped for veracity- these things "happen" more often now]

The featured vapid young woman called me to the treatment room, this time dressed in black as if it were an evening outfit. Normally she wears a white smock. Her helper was a E. Indian, brown skinned woman whom I had not met before, or perhaps in passing. Normally there is a blonde woman aiding the featured young woman. Anyhow, the whole deal was all done in short order, and I changed, and then headed out. A kiddie-stalk in the hallway as I made the corner, along with a hug. Regular TI's will know, bringing kids to help stalk the victim is de rigeur, so it appalls me all the more that they get dragged into this despicable life raping rampage that has gone on for over 15 years now.

And in keeping with the flush of stalking these days, a post-treatment swarm of 5 parties was all oncoming, heading to the hospital as I drove along the first residential street. Like WTF; I hadn't seen anyone here before, and now five parties, one of whom couldn't bring themselves to walk on the sidewalk, but on the street. It was good enough for all the others, so why not them, especially with a child in hand. So yet again, I had to hold up for the oncoming vehicle to pass before I could proceed past these dumbshits that could not walk on a sidewalk, which was a whole lot safer that the street as there was a 8' median between the street and sidewalk. I predict that there will be more "holdups" on the way out; either ambulatory and/or vehicular. A road accident is always a good excuse. Now 11 treatments of 28, so who knows what is going to erupt. I am sure the perps have been waiting this whole 15 years to hammer me with gamma radiation and see what they get from it in terms of the interaction with the myriad masers that float around me and above me while getting the irradiation treatment.

I had my usual assortment of vehicles on the highway, there and back; logging trucks seem to be a regular component of the stalking show. I don't suppose it is a coincidence that I worked in forestry for 20 years, though not logging directly.

Yoga tonight, and the instructor didn't show up, so a student took over. She did a good job in all, and there was about 16 yogis tonight, all women save one dude. There seems to be a dude rotation going on; new ones every week. Last week it was shirtless one; today's special didn't seem to have much of a clue about yoga. It seemed that at least 80% were new, so again, it just strikes as strange that so many new yogis come and then filter out.

No logging truck to precede me for many km today, but a truck hauling a trailer full of willow or dogwood plantings; 6'x10' trailer full of red colored stems about 3' high and the ubiquitous plastic cover over them, though a perforated one that didn't catch the wind so much. And yes, live and dead plant matter (cuttings and pruning in fact do contain live plant cells for a time), are often trotted out as gangstalking props. Not to mention they have kept me in farming and viticulture jobs for the past 9 years handling plant material, again, cutting, planting, pulling off excess shoots, thinning grape bunches etc.

The same two-some in positioning me on the bed again today; the featured young woman is a little more friendly with a little more eye contact. Today she was wearing a brown checkered shirt and black tights and her knee-high brown leather boots.

And the "usual" swarm of Fuckwits around me when imbibing water at the fountain, my pre-treatment routine to attain the full bladder requirement beforehand. Of them, one cutish 30 something woman was giving me the eye for crissakes. (I checked her out as she had the same height and build as the Good Doctor (of Kelowna), but she wasn't unless morphed over). Though I do find it so interesting that the majority of gangstalkers are gaze averse, save the odd cute female who gives me the eye, sometimes being 40 years younger than me.

Then "usual" loafing crew in the hallways post radiotherapy treatment today. Then the barrelling in of a white Ford Escape into the vehicle exit, by a granny no less. I waited out this egregious stupidity in my silver-brown Ford Escape. Then out of town along Hwy 97, and of course, the traffic is busy around me every day, though I have no prior experience to know if this this normal Kelowna traffic or not. I suspect not, based on two prior city's experience, and too, Debbie Newhook commented on the plethora of traffic around us when I visited her in Nanaimo back in 2010.

A morning trip to Kelowna for radiotherapy, then a consult with the oncologist afterward. Most everything is reasonably OK in the circumstances, and I am not tired yet. He tells me that weight gain is common among prostate radiotherapy treatment patients, to which I can confirm. I have gained 4.0kg since this began and am halfway through this week. Well... maybe it it because the gamma ray radiation is depleting the dopamine in the prostate region which then signals adiposity (fat deposition). I say this because dopamine mediates (perhaps, governs) adioposity and insulin activity in cells based on my readings of the scientific literature. And as dopamine diminishes some 1%/year on average after age 40 hence, middle age spread. The extensive body (non-Central Nervous System, or "peripheral", a usage I absolutely loathe) hormonal effects of dopamine are known in the main, but getting it to clinical practice will take at least 100 years IMHO. Never mind that methylation mutations, likely the root cause of so many hormonal disruptions (including dopamine), will not likely make it to conventional mainstream medical practice any time sooner. Dopamine agonists can work, but still only address the symptoms.

I have looked for gamma ray effects on dopamine but I haven't seen anything definitive in the literature online.

That the radiotherapy treatments are making me pee more often is also noted. Another effect of low dopamine, base on my readings of the non-motor symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, (a low and declining dopamine situation in the nigra striatum of the brain), is that is causes urinary problems, some 4 years ahead of PD. There is no PD in the family, so no worries there, but urinary issues, dementia and blindness all loom into duckie-hood (geriatric stage of life) based on my parent's life, so I am considerably concerned that my low dopamine state was totally blown off by the shrink in my visit (09-2017) in an attempt to get the longer term issues dealt with. Not only did I have a SPECT scan to back me up, but a 01-2017 dopamine urine test too. He didn't look at the scans, just the report, and didn't look at the urine test at all. Throwing "darts in the dark" is how conventional psychiatry is typified. I would add, "wilfully and indiscriminately throwing darts in the dark, and don't care to do better". In the case of my issues, the last visit amounts to wilful obstruction of treatment. Nothing new there when it seems that I have been monitored and messed with all my life, and the 04-2002 apartment invasion in Seattle and later fall out was designed exactly to obstruct getting better. As if 47 years of ADD wasn't enough, being raised by two ADD parents, and then when getting substantially better, why, the Pyschopathic Division of the SS of the 4th Reich arrives to take over, aka "R&R", Run and Ruin. Thanks a fucking bunch.

After a restless night last night, and getting up at 0600h, I got hammered with a 3 hour nap attack this afternoon. This is the rare instance where a nap attack has a valid basis for occurring. All my present notions of working out at the gym, and increasing my dopamine, keep getting diverted into doing squat. Did I also mention that dopamine has a huge impact on motivation? It does, big time; ask any PD neurologist.

Snowy on the way to Kelowna and back today, about 0C. Back to logging trucks on the highway near me, .........

A sudden word processing crap-out as I attempt to detail the following. A whistleblower (now a TI) from a security firm speaks about TI's, and estimates 1-2 million actively controlled TI's in the US at this video, (1h 17m) though I don't know his name, where his blog or other podcasts are. There is nothing technically I would disagree with and I find his presentation wholly credible. What is of intense interest to me is that his experience is from the city of Seattle and how deep mind control technologies are being applied there. Well... as it "happens", I lived there from mid-1999 to late 2002, so I would not be surprised that I was guinea pig in all of that, and how it is constantly refined. After all, 15 years later, they are still refining their methods, eliciting trauma responses and whatever DNA, energetic, color and all the systems in one's body.

Onto the mayhem of governance; not only do we have President Trump, despite  admiration I have for some of his policies, "acting" up and creating chaos in his belligerent fashion, we now have the power elite too. No less than George Soros backing the negroes and the multicultural schtick that is nothing less than a takedown of order and civic function, backing groups that have no interest in democracy. Ergo, the ridiculously named Black Lives Matter has his support, which by strong association is that of the power elite. All here at the Modern History Project, this link. He is also backing the "multicultural trashing of Europe". Well done George, and exactly what does that accomplish? War by attritional domestic violence perhaps (aka social chaos), as if we don't have enough of it here in the world. Recall my lessons from the perps; competence and civic normality is not allowed (for long). And the statistics are astounding;
Here are some urban crime statistics that speak for themselves. Who benefits from this?
CityBlack + LatinoViolent CrimeMayor
Oakland, CA25% + 27%5x national avgDemocrat
Stockton, CA11% + 44%4x national avgDemocrat
Chicago, IL32% + 29%3x national avgDemocrat
Detroit, MI80% + 8%6x national avgDemocrat
Memphis, TN63% + 7%5x national avgDemocrat
Baltimore, MD63% + 5%4x national avgDemocrat
Cleveland, OH51% + 11%4x national avgDemocrat
St. Louis, MO48% + 4%4x national avgDemocrat
Atlanta, GA52% + 3%3x national avgDemocrat
(Stats as of 2014 from
One has to wonder where it is all going, as if remote neural monitoring, population control and gangstalking and harassment wasn't enough, now increased social agitation (e.g. bused-in protesters), traumatization and chaos.

Saw Lisa Brokop at the Dream Cafe tonight, seating capacity 120. What an awesome show, and an awesome performer. For now at least, I have faith in humanity. And nothing like a great entertainer live, especially her good humor and uplifting grace. Beats youtube and other online recorded video anytime.

At the show I had my usual preponderance of Fuckwits hanging at my back, because the aisle was behind me. Normally they have me up against the far wall and people pass in front of me, which of course brings other harassment issues. And there was the return of  the rather unsmiling (though attractive) voluptuous waitress of two visits ago that kept banging into me without apology. She in her tattoos creeping over her chest, as seen in the same low and wide cut top. Not that she said hello or anything this time, but just needed to hang around me lots, she still has a large ass, parked 4" from me while bending over at the table next to me. Even if it wasn't her table, as it was the Asian waitress' table area. Whatever; still, a great show.

And why the stink of raw diesel fuel when I step out of my vehicle now? (It runs on gasoline). No spillage that I can see, and if there is a conventional source, it must be from the neighbors over the fence.

Remembrance Day here in Canada, a national holiday. A shut-in day too. And kept busy by ongoing re-reads of JFK assassination books and some supporting YouTube videos. In fact, this whole retrospective has been going on for the last two weeks, and hopefully is now done for whatever perp mind monitoring (information meme patrol) objective they have planned.

The book, Dr. Mary's Monkey by Ed Haslam (read second) is getting re-read with some topical interest; a secret linear accelerator in New Orleans that was used for irradiating cancer tumors in mice, and then re-iterating the process to make them more virulent and ultimately more lethal, to the point of being a bioweapon. Which is what they accomplished; an unwitting prisoner was injected with the cancer and died 28 days later, right on cue. This in August 1963. Because the lead lab technician, Judyth Vary Baker (JVB, author of Me and Lee- read first), was upset about this, and wrote this in a letter delivered to her sponsor, Dr. Ochsner, and thereby violating the rule that she documented their interaction, she got dismissed, and with her Lee Harvey Oswald, her lover/handler, (LHO) who got dispatched to Dallas to play the patsy to the JFK assassination.

And was the dark hand of the perps behind all this, and sitting over top of their conventional world proxies, the CIA (aka, Criminals in Action, not just the Cocaine Importing Agency)? From the coincidences and behavioral oddities perspective, I would say yes, though not obviously. First, when JVB moved to New Orleans she was invited to a party where she would meet her direct supervisor for the first time, Dr Mary Sherman. This inaugural personal meeting of a keen 20 y.o. cancer research student assigned to a senior US, if not world, respected cancer researcher was a blow-off; Dr Sherman didn't even say hello, preferred to speak with the hispanics there and left early. JVB was understandably nonplussed, if not a little upset. This kind of blow-off, with prior great expectations, is a classic perp move in my experience. They love to foil introductions, especially at the inception where individuals would be getting to know each other much better, which was the plan, and which did later unfold. As to whether Dr. Sherman was knowingly acting according to a directive from someone else, or whether she was mind controlled and didn't know, no one can say. But her rude first introduction was totally out of character, as she would do weekly rounds at the children's hospital as part of her regular duties. She was always gracious and a class act from what others recounted in Dr Mary's Monkey.

Then there was the stated objective of the cancer bioweapon; it was so that it could be used against Castro as soon as possible, so that JFK's detractors would not get too impatient and decide to take him out instead. Well, the bioweapon worked (per above), LHO took it to Mexico to transfer to Cuba, and no one showed up at the drop location. It was at least four months of intense secret work, using a secret linear accelerator, some thousands of dead mice, at least one dead human, and all of the participants with day jobs, and then the CIA somehow "fails" to execute on the central objective. It doesn't add up. So why did they want this covert research done?

Haslam, in Dr Mary's Monkey suggests that the cancer work was to negate the blatant stupidity of deploying earlier polio vaccines that contained monkey viruses, some capable of causing cancer over the long term. That is, find a way to clean up the seemingly inadvertent introduction of SV-40 (the 40th virus found in monkeys BTW) into the human population. (I don't buy into this as it was such a technical long shot, and I am not sure even present day science knows of an approach that could address SV-40 in the human population). Others in NIH at the time, most notably Bernice Eddy, conveyed that these viruses would cause a human cancer epidemic in future years, which has happened. (Proving causal isn't going to be easy). But, it is interesting to note that the linear accelerator "accident", as it seems from Haslam's investigation, didn't occur until April 1964. So there is no knowledge of how this device was used, and for what purpose, as the bioweapon work, its ostensible purpose, ended in Aug. 31, 1963. So what was the linear accelerator used for during this 8 month interval?

There is a suggestion that by irradiating SV-40 that its viral cousin, HIV was created by mutating SV-40. Presumably this needed further testing beyond the contributions of JVB and LHO, who were under the impression it was for a cancer bioweapon for taking out Castro, a deeply held sentiment in New Orleans in those days. It is my speculation that Dr Mary Sherman was purposely taken out when this further stage of HIV testing was complete. She was not part of the JFK conspiracy (other than knowing LHO and Ferrie and working with them on the cancer bioweapon), was not of interest to the Warren Commission, and harbored no malevolent political intent, unlike her superior, Dr. Ochsner. After the accident, (coincidentally, the first day of the Warren Commission hearings in New Orleans), they shut down the linear accelerator, removed it, cleaned out the building. The FBI later shut down the investigation into Dr. Sherman's demise, and even RFK himself phoned the New Orleans police department investigators asking how it was going. The FBI had earlier declared it was a local murder, as they had no investigative authority. True enough, but Haslam's analysis strongly suggests that the "accident"/murder occurred on US Federal property, and would of been an FBI case. Which explains why there was so much Federal government interest in Dr Sherman's case. Haslam makes a strong case that the linear accelerator malfunction, (or perhaps sabotage) caused Dr. Sherman's death and that the body was transported back to her residence with additional crime scene augmentation to make it look like an burglary gone wrong.

Apparently, the linear accelerator was a cash up front $10m purchase and was installed and run in great secrecy by 1960. Would they, whoever are the true over-arching sponsors, really invest in this considerable effort from 1960 to 1964 and suddenly drop it because of an accident? It doesn't add up either. It would seem to me that whatever the ultimate purpose was, (creation of HIV is suggested, per Haslam, and it seems plausible to me), was attained, and was professionally repugnant to Dr. Sherman, and she got nixed. JVB was fortunate that of all these projects, the cancer bioweapon, its possible HIV creation ulterior motive, and LHO's involvement in the JFK assassination, that she lived to tell part of the tale, and what a story it is (Me and Lee).

Then there is the timing of it all (aka coincidence count); they finished their bioweapon proving in Aug. 1963, and JVB complained in writing about its gruesome testing outcome to Dr. Ochsner. As she succinctly put it, she came to New Orleans to study how to defeat cancer, not to kill people with it. But Ochsner's regular secretary wasn't there that day, (coincidence meter going off here), but a substitute who would of been privy to the contents. Ochsner went livid, reneged on his promise to send JVB to Tulane Medical School (weeks before the term started), and she was dispatched to Florida to work in a lab. She wasn't with LHO in the run up in Dallas and the JFK assassination. This also freed up LHO to be "involved" in Dallas, a patsy at best. This split up the lovers, ultimately for good. I cannot believe that the JFK assassination was planned for any less than 6 months in advance, likely close to a year, so it seems it is just too much of a coincidence to have LHO in a key role to suddenly be available 3 months ahead of time.

Then there is the big picture; a secret linear accelerator in New Orleans, used for secret night time irradiation of cancer tumors, and installed and run for over 4 years. (There had to be others involved, as Dr. Sherman had a major day job). Would the perps really be unaware of that? (Or if you don't buy into this theme, their conventional world proxies, the CIA). Not only that, fomenting the anti-Castro movements in their various forms, from invasion forces, e.g. Bay of Pigs with 2,000 men (invading at the location of Castro's favorite fishing grounds for crissakes). That the CIA director, Dulles, was out of town on the day of the invasion when his permission was vitally needed to take out the few jet trainers/fighters the Cubans had. That doesn't add up either; it was planned for failure, and very possibly to stiff JFK with it, hence the anti-JFK sentiment that ran so deep in the southern US then. Curiously, when LBJ, a Texan, takes over the presidency, the anti-Castro sentiment dissipates. All to be subsumed by the senseless Vietnam misadventure; a trillion dollar war, half a world away, with 59,000 US dead, and perhaps 2m Vietnamese, in a region of no US geo-political interest; that doesn't add up and no one has bothered to find out why.

All the above is a very long riff, when in fact it is a coincidence (not that I believe in the concept), that I am halfway through my six week Mon-Fri treatment for prostate cancer by external beam radiotherapy, gamma rays delivered by a linear accelerator.

Other curious coincidences in Ed Haslam's story that suggest meta-governance in his book, when in 1972 an out-of-town female college student who he befriended, took an apartment which had a peculiar smell. A woman living in the basement complained of "those men and the horrible things they did to those animals". The woman friend rightfully asked about the place, and New Orleans history in an attempt to understand what the whole picture was. Haslam told her what he knew, but did not know of the illicit lab location of David Ferrie, working for Dr Sherman, with JVB's support. Only in 1992 did he realize that the apartment was in fact the illicit lab location. Just another coincidence that he encountered the former illicit cancer research lab that he was to write about in 2007? Possibly, but then again, regular readers will know what I think of coincidences.

A spoofing incident also occurred in 1972. Ed Haslam and the above mentioned friend were invited to a party and they met a woman at a party claiming to be JVB, who claimed to have met LHO. The JFK and Garrison trial was off-topic to the couple, so they departed the party. Only in 2000, courtesy of 60 Minutes doing fact checking did Ed Haslam run into the real JVB. So who chose to present themselves as an imposter to JVB when she was totally unknown in New Orleans and JFK assassination circles? Post JFK and LHO deaths, Ferrie instructed her to lie low to stay alive, and she did just that for 30 years. No cancer research, and coincidentally, two witnesses that Garrison asked, both failed to mention JVB. She was unknown and untraceable to any investigator at the time. (Both LHO and JVB practiced public furtive measures so they would not be associated together, though lovers). Yet someone knew, and someone chose to spoof her in 1972 to the eventual author of this great book, Dr Mary's Monkey.

In detailing the above coincidences/peculiarities, I am not intending to in any way impugn the book, Dr Mary's Monkey, by Ed Haslam. It is very readable, well researched with perceptive analysis and with local lore added to make a very convincing read. There is no doubt in my mind he has solved the peculiar case of Dr Mary Sherman's death and explained why the investigation was ultimately shut down by someone higher up. And it raises deep questions as to the state of long term public health in North America, particularly with respect to cancer and HIV. Highly recommended. And if you don't like my meta-analysis of the coincidences I have mentioned above, I am fine with that, and don't let it interfere with reading this fascinating book.

I don't do TI organization stuff much any more, phone call sessions and the like, though I probably should, but I cannot see the point. After 15 years of this abuse, I have given up caring to be blunt. The perps must like this dystopic state, having managed me for dysthymia all my life, a co-morbid condition of ADD. And just when turning the corner with the right diagnosis, (a four shrink battle, settled with a SPECT scan), and right medication in 04-2002, why, they run me into ruin and take it away. This past August's consult with the idiotic shrink (yet to be concluded, though I will give him a ringing dissenting written opinion), in an attempt to deal with low dopamine issues as it relates to non-CNS issues, has left me in a rather despondic state. Now, what do I do? Go to a Florida clinic that understands the usefulness of scans, the role of cellular methylation SNP's for MTHFR and COMT (and its effects on dopamine), and puts something together? I reckon it will be $25k at least. Then I run the risk of bringing it all back to Canada and getting screwed, say (real example), "its not peer reviewed science".

Anyhow, unbeknownst to me in the last few months of this holding pattern, though largely dictated by daily focused gamma beam therapy, there was a TI Conference 10-21,23-2017. Like a real one, where one registers (free even), attends, and goes to sessions. OMG; this is near mainstream cred. And here it is, even under the kitschy rubric of Hope and Unity Conference, held in that perp deep town, Boston MA. I am impressed, though I have no idea where the next North American one will be, and hopefully not Victoria, BC, perp deep as it comes. Just count the aerial density to know how perp deep.

Every four to six weeks they let me watch a DVD, even if I have a stack of 15 or so that have been kicking around for years and I have meant to get to every one. This time, The Manchurian Candidate, one of the all time movies to see from the TI [perspective. Well done, and many themes running in this show; mind controlled military non-consensual subjects, private contractors deploying technology into subjects under military direction, staged heroic battle events (I think), the over-the-top US political machinations, the coterie of federal "secret" service keeping tabs on the subject, the mind controlled "lone nut" assassin, impressively faked security footage done in real time, and faked deaths of the victims. And if cinema is really a proxy for the shadow world, this film was a rich trove indeed, seamlessly integrated into a plausible whole.  Using "old technology" as I know it, that is, implants, but that makes for better cinema as there is something more tangible than what I deal with. A good show, though not essential if you are deep in the rabbit hole. On  the other hand, it is interesting to see where cinema is and how they are gently inculcating the masses with such astonishing capabilities.

Enough for a week of rambling on, being out of work these days, so what else am I to do?