Sunday, April 30, 2017

Audio Volume Antics

And what is it about audio volume for music and videos that so interests the perps that they must relentlessly fuck with it? Either lowering the volume or shutting it off. Yesterday a 10 minute screaming-at-the-assholes show erupted when they fucked with the Oppo, when I put on the first movie in months. The movie volume would not come through the audio system. Eventually it was "solved" as they stopped mind-fucking me as to the correct input switch on the amplifier. I have played movies on this system many times, and "somehow" I got screwed up, and "somehow" when I was on the correct setting, there was still no volume. Then it suddenly worked.

Tonight they are busy screwing me out of having Youtube play through the same audio system, but the PC based player is working. Normally I don't have to make any audio gear switches from player to internet (all from the PC), but for some reason this is not working tonight. Other than blatant fuckery, another trick of theirs is to pull the plugs out some connections, to prevent the signal getting through. Another was 6 weeks ago when they broke a soldered joint in the interconnect cable connector that formerly worked fine. Said joint was protected and in no way flexed or messed with, and "somehow", it failed inside the hard shell RCA connector all by itself. Direct hardware fuckery goes back to 2002 when they could remotely limit the volume on my Sony Discman when I was listening at the gym while on the treadmill. They kept slowly diminishing the volume and eventually I gave up on that device as a useful player.

I cannot conceive as to why a billion dollar per year budgeted black operation has to fuck with my audio listening for 15 years. Are they utterly and organizationally insane as they are malevolent and relentless, or is there something important to the inner workings of the brain as promoted by listening to music? I suspect it is the dopaminergic response they are attempting to determine (or remotely replicate), which is entirely consistent with their objectives for these 15 years of this imposed abuse-athon. Don't they ever get it? Just leave me the fuck alone.

Landlord pop-ups in the window, facing to the side, perfectly catching my peripherial vision, something the perps have been long testing, as in been there, done that. Turns out he was doing some lawn edging, something I have never known him to do in the four years I have lived here. He was doing pop-ups in the kitchen window on one occasion two years

Monday, and onto vineyard work, finishing up trellis wire moving. The top wires needed to be moved up one final notch on the slotted posts. It was hard work for the shorter two women on the crew. The weather started off wet, hence ski jacket. Then by afternoon it was warmer, down to my shirt, and headphones on. That didn't stop the weather drama though; big black clouds to the W formed and brought cool air, but thankfully, it skipped by on the other side of the lake and didn't unload on us. Big black clouds formed to the E too, enough for some serious rain threat, but didn't come over either. Between the dark rain clouds as the afternoon developed, and only getting a few spattering out of it

Digging out weeds in the vineyard; the bunch grass is a formidable invader, and gets stronger each year. No herbicide treatments here, just mechanized weed cultivation which is in need of an upgrade. In other words, it doesn't get them all by any means, and once the bunch grass is established, it cannot get it out. Or else, it cuts the weed off at the roots and then displaces them, all for them to re-start in short order.

There is two of us weeding together, one from each side of the row. The NZ woman was my worker-mate, and she was reasonable conversation for the day. And to add to the show, three helicopters came to visit the vineyard tasting room in the afternoon. First we had to move our vehicles; then a Bell 206 came in and departed, and then two smaller Robinson 244's arrived and set down on the same helipad. I wasn't nearby, so I couldn't see how close they were, but it did seem unusual.

A 2.5 hour nap attack tonight. As nearly always, I was not running a sleep deficit and there was no conventional reason for needing so much extra sleep.

Another day of digging weeds, very heavy clods of bunch grass, often 15-25lb. Brutal work, not unlike those gulag dwellers who are to grow their own food. Except that they don't get paid for it. I still work with the NZ woman, who is a valiant trooper and sticks with it in reasonable humor.

All those green tips of grass that I see all day long in the course of the above weeding are fodder for plasmic and visual fuckery. The Psychopaths replay the same grass visage in front of me; either in front of this LCD or a book or whatever. It is the same pattern of vertical grass shoot tips and their characteristic color. Why do I need to be hounded with the same color and pattern I see all day long at home? They say that every individual's perception of color is neurologically different, so maybe the Psychopaths need to hit me with this day-long image in different lighting and location to then learn how to remotely fuck with my color perception. Surely they could fuck with some one who is color blind? Or maybe they already did that, as I had a color blind co-worker one summer I worked in the woods.

Back to the bad old days when the Psychopaths would block the toilet. They pulled this one tonight, as a signature escalation after three days of consistently having me need to take a crap immediately getting back from a day's work of weed pulling.

Then a sudden later need to take another crap with the debris from their above mentioned antics still stewing with the bleach. So... time to take the plunge, so to speak, and thankfully, no overflow games. This following listening/viewing my very favorite audio artist, EC, on Youtube. Then onto bill payments, another longstanding point of invasive fuckery I have come to learn firsthand since this insane abuse began in 04-2002. Clearly, taking a crap has very much been escalated to tactical levels in the last year, sometimes three a day. Quite different from the once per three days until 2016.

Three rounds of leg cramps last night, screaming at the assholes each time. The "usual" magnesium bisglycinate didn't work for some reason, and I had to tough it out. The joys of having one's low dopamine condition exploited to the maximum continue.

And in predictable fashion, I embark on listening to a new artist on Allflac, and lo, the player craps out when it was working just fine with EC, per above. There is utterly no reason whatsoever for the PC-Oppo player combination not to work, as the settings are the same, and I can normally switch between Youtube and Allflac, both internet sources, no problem. Suddenly this audio "problem" comes on when wanting to switch to a new artist.

Which begets a broader perp tactic of selective introductions to people, either live or via music or film. An example would be someone texting, then later phoning, then in person, strung over a week or longer.  Doing it in reverse is also a possible variation. The DVD film of Volver which I had bought used suddenly crapped out in mid film, thereby freezing my viewing of the luminous actress, PC.

My, a sudden change up in my work detail. I got to run the tractor with a mechanical Grape Hoe attached on the side, which turns up the soil next to the grape vine and along the row. A whole day no less, of running a tractor for the first time. And the most surprising thing was nothing major went wrong, in a world where things go wrong at 5x the normal rate. Sure, I drove over a post at one point in the afternoon, but that was it. There was a 80' ravine next to the vine rows for the afternoon, and thankfully, nothing too close or threatening, though it was of constant concern of course. I don't know quite how to read this experience of a new endeavor where not much went wrong; either the Psychopaths will get me in spades next time, or else they may relent as it is part of my orchestrated "career path". We shall see.

And of course it saved me from hand weeding all day, back breaking toil as mentioned above.

An evening time visit to my knee-capped colleague, still in a brace from his work accident three weeks ago. Though this time with a smaller and more flexible brace. And so I walked to his place to try get him going on watching videos by taking my spare Blu-ray player. But the poor boy is "Appled"; no HDMI connections, no CD player for crissakes. I loaned him a box of DVD's and he hasn't got to one yet. I don't know what exactly is going on; if I was laid up I would make sure all my audio and video gear was working via the remote control.

Anyhow, we drank wine for a time aand chatted, expending the bottle I brought. Like last week, it seems I am there for some kind of script role; his bemused countenance didn't miss my attention, this time or last.

Saturday, and laundry to get done. Then to help my injured colleague again, this time taking mounds of bottles to the recycle, ones sitting in bags that had been there for a year or more. The recycle place stinks of stale beer and I loathe going there, but I do only for special situations, this being one. Mostly I dump my bottles in the bins out back and don't bother claiming any refund.

The refund was enough for lunch which he graciously bought at a nearby chain restaurant. He conveyed more about his life in Japan, which is nothing what it seems on the surface. Then onto a few stores to do his shopping, and then to take him back to his place.

It was the usual gangstalk gong show when I out and about with my colleague; even some weird ones; a couple sitting in their brown vehicle opposite when I pulled into the mall parking lot, and still there when we returned 15 min. later. We get into my vehicle, a light brown colored Escape, and then a dude from the opposite vehicle gets out, begins to approach us, stares at us, and then returns to the back of his vehicle. We didn't do anything to invoke this near-threatening behavior, but here it was. This dude in camo tights (!!) with baggy shorts over top for crissakes. As we depart I see him walking through the very location we were parked. All that posing and near-threat posturing over no provocation, this mofo does a vacated parking stall walk-through, standard perp fare. Similar to last night at 2400h when walking home; a mofo comes at me from across the street and then diverts his course in the last five seconds. Like WTF; why is pedestrian traffic as bad as the vehicular traffic?

And while above activities were conducted, the on-off pestilent potential Camry buyer started up his texting, now looking to make a deal. First he attempted to exploit some mechanical faults, then I responded that I would deal with the one semi-legitimate one in a few weeks when I got the summer tires on, he later then responded he could save me the money by doing it himself if he could purchase the car ASAP. It is too confusing to relate, but the guy has got his bargaining wrong, and is only getting a lower price because he is a pest that is aided by the fact that no one else seems to be interested in my very reliable vehicle. This would be his second round of apparent interest in the vehicle, so we shall see. The whole text-negotiation exercise is getting too tedious.

Finally, I sold my Camry to above pest, even if the bank was closed and forced me to keep the cash on hand, paid in 20's for crissakes. I didn't know he was coming today until I got a text at 1430h when I was out hiking. I made it back by 1530h and he still hadn't shown up. He did after 10 minutes or so, and then went to the bank and the ATM wouldn't take the wad of bills, no matter how few I fed it. Onto the insurance people but they were closed, so we tried three more, still closed. Either he or his pal suggested Wal Mart, and lo, if there wasn't an open insurance bureau there, and we got the deal done. My plates off, and his new ones on, and my insurance cancelled, and his put on. All done with the background whooping and yelping at the adjacent photo business, surely put on as it carried on for far too long if it was a legit photo shoot.

Three freaking months being posted online and all I got was two lookers who counted and one party of lookers who didn't even drive it. Maybe a couple of other calls who didn't show up, and that was it. All over a very reliable and well maintained two owner 1997 Camry with no history of wrecks, damage or anything else problematic. Go figure.

Said pest "needed" to use my washroom when he came, getting my instant suspicion that this was more perp fuckery, given their interest in all kinds of body waste, and the on-off sabotage ructions with the toilet these days, including blocking it for no seeming reason, as all I did was piss in it. Even my landlord got into the scene, "happening" to be driving by in his red pickup truck as I turned over the keys to the buyer. Go figure.Or is this just more idiocy over conducting a transaction, a rare car sale variety.

The evening time lassitude has come on, so I shall post this so it gets done and not drag on for another week. i see a new feature of Blogger is that the Save button flashes orange when it saves. Just what I needed, more orange flashing.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Rain Out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enough on browning the victim and to get this posted.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Fifteen Years On

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, April 09, 2017

New Crown

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, April 02, 2017

Annual Forced Finger Fumbling Exercise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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