Sunday, October 29, 2017

Getting Beamed

My first radiotherapy session for the prostate cancer this afternoon. A relief that it has begun, not so much for the beginning of cancer abatement, but finally, the perps have stopped planting the notion of going to a proton beam treatment center in California at LL. That would of been over $100k, and I don't have that kind of cash at the ready. For the last year they had me research proton beam therapy, and even engage LL for prospective treatment in June 2017. I realized that it was totally undoable from a financial perspective, and still the perps kept hammering me with the notion that "proton beam therapy at LL is in your future". Well if it is, it will be long after this therapy is over and it would be a desperate last effort to deal with a re-occurence. If LL is stil in my future, it doesn't look good. Finally, that planted and absurd mantra is over.

It was an hour's trip to Kelowna, which I will be doing for every weekday for 28 treatments. Not a problem with the drive, and a light to moderate vehicular gangstalking posse. Though the most excitement was when I was in Kelowna, and just finished getting skunked at a store that turned out to be closed, headed down the next street, one way (the correct way), and here is this Fuckwit coming at me driving down street in the wrong direction. Like WTF; I have seen way too many of these wrong way stunts to know that it is a fluke.

And the winter tires had to be put on for today, a 0700h appointment at the Ford dealership with two male Fuckwits doing the stand-around. I even had the "honor guard" treatment as I entered the building; two dudes split apart and stand there for me to pass between them just as I passed through the double doors. There was some pretense of the service staff speaking to one of them, and the other was doing the "stand-there" act, pretending he wasn't invading my personal space when there was plenty of room for him to move. And of course, not looking either, another pretend stunt I am long familiar with.

I would of expected the perps to have me make a few trips to Kelowna on the summer tires and then convert to the winter tires the next week, say, but unusually, they had me start this entire Kelowna junket for 28 trips just on the winter tires. And we know who is totally fussed and bothered about rubber, being a byproduct from trees.

Yoga tonight, and 12 other yogis, all female, and at least 9 of them were new. With one exception, all were 28+, so none of the past experience of seeing an array of cute asses as they had put on a few times. In fact, some were decidedly oversized, as is the instructor, so who knows what is going on for the perps that they put on such high rotations of newcomers in varying ass dimension themes.

Radiotherapy was in-out, even if they had me arrive 40 min. early to sit in the parking lot for 30 min. As it "happened", the Ford dealership phoned when I got back to tell me that they had my hub caps. I drove over there and got the lug nuts re-torqued too. And what is it about these grinning service dudes and their large tattoos that they like me to see? At least two of them have two armfuls each; just plain fugly.

Then a side trip to the shoe maker in Kelowna, in my quest for bootlaces for my hiking boots, as there was a sudden blow out three weeks ago. These boots have little pulleys to pass the lace through, so the friction component is lower than normal. But no, only a year old, and the bootlaces had a blow out. And have I mentioned the perps' obsessions over footwear, and bootlaces before? Probably, but not recently, though the sabotage has been heavy on my workboots last year, where three pairs were in constant rotation, even getting swapped at the shoemakers more than once. (Failed pair on my feet gets swapped there and then for the just-repaired pair). The perps also have a specialty obsession over shoelaces and their color as well; it seems they need to get more "action" from these moving objects for whatever reason. This time, I am hoping that the bootlace obsession is over and done with for this pair, as I got Kevlar bootlaces which should last a lifetime. I can just imagine the boots will then fail. They have their ways of screwing with combinations and permutations of everything, so who knows.

My third day of radiotherapy, and it turned out a little different. First, I got screwed into leaving later than my usual allowance for road issues, and lo, I got into a jam, traffic jam that is. Yesterday, the Kelowna bridge traffic was moving just fine at about 0730h, and with the appointment time only 15 min. later today, and getting screwed (somehow) into making a later departure, the traffic was crawling over the Kelowna bridge at 0750h. I made it to the treatment center and was ready with a minute to spare. I don't need that kind of stress over meeting/treatment appointments, and here I got screwed into one. Then I waited some 30 min. and finally was informed that they were doing some "physics tests" that should of been done last night. Whatever.

And the parking was "looked after"; normally a $2 coin gets me some 1.5 hours, plenty of time, but the notice on the meter was "complimentary parking today". I will take it. And as it "turned out", it was much needed as it saved me tripping out to add more time, and of course, fretting about it. Then when on the motorized bed and getting my initial scan, they determined that my rectum was too full and that they couldn't get their tolerances for beam aiming. (They can see all one's organ positions through the scanner). So they suggested coffee, and to wait a half hour. So I get changed back into my clothes, and have coffee, and after an hour, nothing. So another coffee, and it seemed it finally worked after an hour. Then the deal is to have a full bladder, so then I had to drink water, and wait 20 min. And so finally I was done at 1100h, when if things had gone normally, it would be been 0940h or so.

And what was all the above about? Having a rotation of stalkers around me in the waiting room, and in the adjacent hallway? In the latter location, they had two young males as porters, for moving patients, one on a stretcher. They in semi-military garb, including epaulets, just hanging around and yakking for 1.5 hours. And then the "dude honor guard" again; one on either side of a 8' wide hall, positioned oppositely for me to pass between them. We already did that shit this week, per above.

Another reason for the above delays, was to test me on coffee, in the continual obsession over all things brown, in me, on me (rare), around me (seating and other's clothing) and room decor. And of course my vehicle interior is brown, and no doubt with prior perp planning, as it belonged to my perp abetting parents at one time. I haven't had coffee, save the odd time, for over two years because of these urinary problem issues, and here I have two cups just before a CT scan and subsequent xray beam treatment. When will this insane shit over brown, coffee, and all the rest of the perp obsessions ever fucking end?

Now, after some grape picking last week, why, it is grape picking in the morning, and then off to Kelowna to then get radiotherapy treatment. Another delay while they hit me up with a surprise, as they wanted a more full bladder. Two cups of water did the trick yesterday, but not today for some reason, and that was before they put the scanner on me. Call it a fake-out stunt; walk me there, ask the questions, and then ask me to take more water than yesterday. Why they cannot tell me this in advance and stick to one spec I don't know. The original spec was don't pee 2 hours ahead of time. Now it is different somewhat.

A holy vehicular gangstalking there and back, plus in the building, the loitering Fuckwits standing there for 40 min. And some step-in-the-way fuckers too.

I get to repeat the exercise tomorrow, and my landlord has a sudden need to have a client's vineyard picked, and I can get some done in the morning. Likely it will be from vineyard directly to Kelowna, rather than stopping at my place before heading off like today. And what is the deal over this coordination of picking and later irradiating?

A harvest party last night at my seasonal employer's winery; about 40 people, some guests I even knew from vineyard work in prior years. And I met some new folks too, winemakers and winery owners. The whole deal was almost normal, save for a few who came in close, backing in, as in pretending not to notice.

At 0730h, while checking the road map before I set off, the landlord comes to tell me that the deal is different; the grapes need to be picked and removed from the property. But as things needed to be confirmed, no picking this morning. Soo.. after at 0600h get up, all was in vain. And in a later call, he says there is a tractor there, as well as bins, and I am to start tomorrow.

I had my radiotherapy, and what a hassle. Just when one needs a full bladder to optimize beam aiming, why, the perps pull their urination urgency fuckery again. I haven't had this problem since April when I discovered evening time tea was giving me the problem for the next whole morning. Perhaps it was the treatment creating this self-defeating side effect. We shall see, and wait this out over the weekend.

A tight vehicular formation around me when I set off to Kelowna; the kind that need to surge ahead in the L lane, and then 100m ahead, just sit there for the next 10km beside another vehicle at the same speed. Ditto on the way back, though visual blocking seemed to be more important with side by side 5 ton trucks and their large boxes who traveled together for 5 km. Later, one was ahead, another behind, and even at 120kph, one had to get ahead. One was white, one was yellow, different than the typical white-red vehicle pairings that are so common since all this shit rained (or reigned, if you prefer) down on me since 04-2002.

Laundry tonight, as I will be picking tomorrow; a sanitation pick apparently. And the pit lamping vehicles were out at every turn on the way there. The ones that arrive, or sit at the curb with their lights on before or after turning a corner. Just what is the deal these days; extra vehicular gangstalking, pit lamping and extra things going wrong to enrage me more often. In the latter instance, jammed zippers, not finding the ties on the hospital gowns, objects pulled from my grasp etc. A subtle escalation as well as a resumption of being extra short on patience, something that had been ameliorated since 05-2017 when I started a dopamine promoting MAOI. Now, the planted mind notion is to check on whether radiotherapy depletes dopamine. Which if it does, will infuriate me no end as I made it clear before all this began that I was ADD (=developmentally dopamine deficient). And I also made it clear that this whole prostate cancer would likely of never happened had I been dopamine healthy, as it is a hormone as well, and mediates the immune system. Bringing new and researched science to doctors is asking for failure (a roadblock) in my experience. Perhaps, doctors are taught to treat symptoms only, and with pharmaceuticals only.

Picking grapes all day long; a sanitation pick all by myself.

Ditto this Sunday; I run the tractor in the row with the bin on the back and park it 20' ahead, and pick the grapes into buckets, and then into the bin. Plenty of aircraft flyovers today, and then mixing in a helicopter too. And making sure the aircraft noise was pounded through my headphones while listening to music most of the time. I was cold most of the day even if partially sunny as the wind was up. The "usual" perp tricks of pulling grape bunches from my hands and dumping them on the ground, though for this sanitation pick it really doesn't matter so I don't retrieve them. To get my attention they have the grape bunches do unconventional flipping and improbable kinetic hopping and rolling when thrown into the bucket. Fun and games.

Anyhow; enough of the dull stuff to get this posted.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Dull Days

Dull days all round; the weather is gray and cool, (10C daytime), and I am in work limbo until my prostate cancer treatments start next week. The latter will entail an hour's drive to the clinic, and then treatment for all of 20 min. or less, and then drive back.

Yoga was another scene two days ago; no cute bums to gaze at from the back this time. On the way there, I had just finished filling up my vehicle (and paying), and then I also paid for a pass of 10 sessions for yoga. These activities, while sounding terribly dull, are major perp interests. They are silly over petroleum products and their handling, as well as all my financial transactions. Anyhow; they put the heavy tattoo-ed dude on my left at the front, so no one's ass was on show. Then, true to form, at the last instant, with a vacant spot strangely sitting on my R, in comes a new dude without a shirt. And taking a page from my book, here he is hairless, including his arm pits. But that wasn't enough; he had to get close enough to ensure that his hands would extend to my mat, invoking the possibility of hand clash, where each of our extended hands could come into contact. So I spent a whole lot of mental processing the whole session to ensure it did not happen, usually by offsetting my position to ensure it would be unlikely to happen. And he also cranked on the heavy breathing noise all the time. I swear, one day I will get some yoga DVD's and be done with this shit show at yoga. I do like the exercise, and the flexibility it brings, no question. But as to why I need to be "duded" by these put-on freaks and potential incursions is beyond me.

A whole shut-in day yesterday, and no music either.

My last weekly visit to the naturopath for my IV vitamin C today. This to get me ready for radiotherapy, but after 12 visits once per week, there has been no noticeable effect, save bringing up my body temperature to 36.9C, normal, for one day before it drops to an abnormal 36.4C for the rest of the week. And did I mention that dopamine governs thermoregulation, and low dopamine just might be the problem, per ADD as determined by a SPECT scan? I reckon it will be 100 years before the hormonal influence of dopamine will become routine clinical practice. Meanwhile, dopaminergic deficiencies play themselves out every day in every corner of the world in the form of drug addictions, alcoholism.

Well, the perps decided to add a little excitement, apart from the dipshit males kicking each other in front of my vehicle when parked at the laundromat. They were playful Quebequois dudes seemingly, though nothing is for sure in this rabbit hole. At least they could of used a hacky sack and kick a stupid bean bag to each other.

I got a round of pain in my L hip before lunch, which is not good if one has prostate cancer. Never mind I start my radiotherapy in four days; lets give the victim more punishment before he gets treatment and muddy the waters so he can have more FUD in his life. As if 15 years of being hounded by a psychopathic organization who won't declare themselves isn't enough FUD. Said pain dissipated after 20 minutes of lying down. We shall see where this one goes.

Or was the above pain a stunt to delay me when getting onto this here PC after turning it on? Getting back to the laundromat, the friendly proprietor held me up from starting my laundry after it had been loaded into the machines, but not started. That social banter was good for a 20 minute delay. The above mentioned dudes kicking each other in front of my vehicle held me up again for 20 seconds when headed for my vehicle. Then on the way home from the laundromat, a grey Ford Escape preceded me (in my silver brown Ford Escape) for three blocks and then headed down this very back lane I use, all the time, so I decided "fuck that", and went an extra half block and proceeded down the street instead. All to have me park my vehicle facing N, when it faces S usually so I can get out of the vehicle on the lane side instead of the fence side.

Picking grapes all day.... sticky again.... The "usual" perp fuckery of pulling grape clusters from my hands again. Same as last time; I was doing fine for about the first hour and then the faux fumbling and overt hand manipulation to cause dropped grape bunches for the rest of the day.

Some new bumps, like bites on my scalp; about 8 of them. I cannot figure it out. I doesn't seem like insects as I don't see any at my bed, and the pillow was washed yesterday, as was the sheet. Nothing visible in my hair, so what is it?

Normally, the perps don't like me to have bites from anything. In the 15 years of this harassment I got mosquito bites last year and this. A 2009 bed bug invasion resulted in no bites unbelievably. Anyhow, another health care mystery unloads on me.

Saturday, and I got hit with a 10 hour sleep for no seeming reason. And to add to the drama, they had me with stuffed sinuses upon wake up, and when clearing them, why, a bleeding nose. I'm not sure how to read this; perhaps a one-off stunt, but another of the "we shall see" health issues. All the above mentioned scalp lesions have diminished overnight, so who knows what means what in this rabbit hole.

Rain this morning, so thankfully I am not picking today, though it could of been cancelled.

A shut in day, in part due to a "need" to do a binge watching on Youtube on the JFK assassination. The Men Who Killed Kennedy covers a whole lot of ground, and its DVD sales were killed after three weeks of its first release, but is now fully viewable. Part 1 of 9 starts here, and each runs about 45 min.

Part 8 is about Judyth Vary Baker's association with LHO in New Orleans in the six prior months, though she wasn't there in Dallas for the last 3 months. But it is abundantly clear that LHO had mob contacts and government agent contacts. They were lovers, but took different seats on the bus and got out of different stops.

What I find most curious about this phase, which is detailed in the book Me and Lee, by Judyth Vary Baker (JVB) was the development of the cancer bioweapon, to the level it could be injected and kill someone in 28 days. The plan was to have it developed and then when ready (late Aug. 1963) and inject it into Fidel Castro, presumably via one of his medical staff. LHO took a live culture to Mexico City with all the instructions as to handling and keeping it alive and was to drop it off for someone to take to Cuba. But no one showed up, and the culture was abandoned at the drop. So all that development effort, even using a linear particle accelerator, turned out to be a big nothing in as far as the stated purpose of that six month project went.

There were other big medical names involved, one being Dr Mary Sherman, who did the linear accelerator work and liaised with JVB, LHO and David Ferrie as to the progress and reported to higher ups. So after the successful human inoculation phase, (yessir, unwitting human subjects for terminal experimentation in the USA), she takes off to London UK, where there was another linear particle accelerator, and her apartment is broken into that night and all manner of evidence and some personal belongings were stolen. Then in July 1964, she is killed, seemingly in a apartment invasion, stabbing and a fire. Though in Dr Mary's Monkey, the author Ed Haslam, makes a solid case that she was electrocuted at the linear particle accelerator, then stabbed to finish her off, and her body was then moved back to her apartment to make it look like she was murdered there. The  linear accelerator was dismantled and removed immediately thereafter. So it would seem there was further work to do from Aug. 1963 to July 1964. Perhaps more refinement of cancer bioweapon resilience, (or something else they didn't want JVB to know about) suggesting she was killed off at the conclusion of this second phase of the project. Dr Mary was not involved in the JFK murder, though Haslam suggests that LHO's entry in her phone list might be the one entry that was redacted in the released records, despite his many entreaties to have it disclosed. Dr Mary at no time made any contact with any investigating authorities (such as they were) as to the JFK assassination. In all, she didn't draw any attention to herself, and yet was nixed (seemingly, though it could of been an unfortunate accident, and it was decided to finish her off to avoid questions as to why she was there). So the question remains, what was the cancer bioweapon project all about as it was an epic fail with respect to the stated objective of taking out Castro via seeming "natural" causes. And too, there was even inquiries from RFK as to the progress of the Dr Mary murder investigation, and other high level federal government interest at first. Both books are a good read to understand the whole pre-Dallas events of the JFK assassination. I find it so curious that LHO was involved in this huge "side project" of cancer research for weapon purposes and then gets switched to the JFK assassination three months in advance (when the plans were already well ahead) to "infiltrate" the team, or teams. Given that LHO was central to the JFK case of the deception plan to name a lone assassin, surely he was factored into the plans well before Sept. 1963 when he moved there with his family. (And that he was estranged from his wife, though lived nearby, gave him plenty of freedom to come and go as he pleased). These two seemingly disparate projects for one low level operative all in less than a year is just plain strange to me.

Anyhow, a whole day of intrigue via Youtube and on the eve of my first radiotherapy treatment for prostate cancer. Funny how that topic comes up, again and again. Another one of those coincidences.

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Fork Lifting Again

I did some vineyard and winery work at my former employers (a couple) of 2012-15. I got to drive the rented forklift all day with the bin rotator on it, so the bins of grapes can be dumped into the hopper above the crusher. Yesterday, I was on the crusher, seeing that it got fed, but not too much, while their friend, a most able fork lift driver, was driving. Today, the friend is off on a hunting trip, so I became the default fork lift driver, even if the boss man said at first he was going to be driving. Said boss man is way grumpier that he was two years ago when I last worked full time for him. And now, with a motorized wheelchair/scooter, he is even less capable of running the winery and vineyard show. Thankfully his wife is reasonably able and does much of the real work. He is the vision guy, she is the doer. Oddly, she wants to live in an assisted living arrangement while he wants to continue the vineyard and winery business. She is 62 y.o., he is at least 6 years older with considerably more health issues. I haven't quite figured them out, and even learned yesterday that she wanted to go to an assisted living arrangement even before they bought the vineyard. Go figure.

I say "Fork Lifting Again" for a reason. Last year I was running the fork lift at a winery, and in a rigged set up (IMHO), without any prior issues, I snagged the overhead door that was 1" above the lift stack while backing out, and was doing the right thing, looking back. I didn't drive it in there in the first place, nor did I lift the stack, and it was the co-workers on the crush who suggested that I drive it out, so I did. (And there were plenty of dents in that door from prior fork lift snags, so I wasn't the first.) The next day, the boss man says I cannot drive the fork lift. Fine. The next week, the more experienced fork lift driver snagged a man-way (hatch) cover on a tank with the fork lift as it was so congested inside the winery, and 2,000 liters of red wine flooded out, and it took four of them to close it, all of them getting soaked to the ass. (If the hatch cover had been damaged, they would of lost all 9,000 liters). The fork lift also got killed, as it was an electric model, and couldn't be recharged. That fork lift driver was back driving the rest of the job, another 4 weeks, all day, every day. And I don't assign any blame to this driver, as things were so tight in there, and it could of happened to anyone. (And did a few years earlier). But this disparity of punishment (if that is the right word) was so obvious, that I couldn't of felt more targeted (or singled out for no reason). Anyhow, it seemed that the Thems decided that I was not allowed to to run a fork lift again, though they have relented this year for a whole two days worth. As to what they get from these on-off privileges or designated work activities I have no idea, but temporary use of vehicles (using the same seat) seems to be a big deal. Or what the perps get out of this particular freight handling device, along with exposure to pallets and shipping containers, I have no idea either. Just to think that my daughter has been living with a full time fork lift driver for the past three years.

The power washer ran out of gasoline at about 1600h, and there was no more on hand. Like WTF; I did this with him 2+ years ago, and the same thing "happened". So he called it a day and said he would get gasoline tomorrow, leaving everything a sticky mess. And the diesel heater of the power washer isn't working, so everything is a cold wash. Though, with an after market wobbler head on the tip of the washer wand, instead of the typical jet tip, it makes a huge positive difference. Still, having hot water makes winery hygiene and cleaning that much better. I don't know of a serious winery that doesn't have hot water washing capability. Unusually, over four days, the power washer did not mechanically fail. This is unheard of my annals of using this particular mechanical device.

The fundamental rule of the winery business is that you clean up after day's end, or sooner, if the equipment is going to sit around with grape crush for more than an hour. Or else you clean up after a run of certain grape. Otherwise, clean up will take 2x longer, and present more risk for potential hygiene issues. But you cannot tell this guy how its done, and being prepared with a can of gasoline is beyond him it seems.

More winery work, this time just me doing most of it while the owners were out and about, fetching items (including gasoline) and attending to the business aspects of vineyard and winery ownership. I suppose it could be called another day of the attritional work force. Four days ago, I was working in the vineyard harvesting with the Albanian crew, while the owners, their family (including two young children), plus two other family members, plus the fork lifting friend, were working altogether on the grape crushing and cleaning up. Then we had Thanksgiving dinner together, save the Albanian family. The next day it was similar, though with some dropping out, and another person coming for dinner. The next day (yesterday) I was on grape processing with a few family members heading out, another going elsewhere for the afternoon. Today, it was just me doing the laboring, fork lifting, cleaning, because, as mentioned, the owners had other responsibilities. Anyhow, it seems that the last five days were a combination of vineyard, then winery work, complexed with  decrementing the number of co-workers. For the perps, and their life-long interest in me and wine making, and now viticulture (vineyard labor), it just seems interesting they are still at; transitioning me from one work area to another all in a weekend, (been done before at this same vineyard/winery), and drawing down the personnel whom I work with.

Though in fact, something similar evolved this season of vineyard work. I started with a crew of six for 5 months until the resident grinch pissed me off enough that I worked at another vineyard for the last two months, mostly by myself. Anyhow, I have no idea what this whole deal means and why this attritional cycling of co-workers is so important for the Grand Plan. Just leave me alone is all I have been asking for the past 15 years of this insane litany of abuse and arranged life, down to the microsecond it seems.

Took my laundry into the laundromat and hung there as it was only for washing, no drying. (Cleaning up the daily grime from winery work, now finished). What is it about certain Fuckwits that need to loiter around me for no seeming reason? The proprietor woman was  4' from me and was staring at the washing machine for 10 minutes, then her daughter came on the other side of me to change the TV channel, reduce the volume, fuss with the newspapers, and then screw off with the remote control so I could not put the volume up after she left. Five minutes later, a dread-headed male arrived in my peripheral vision, so I took a look at this creature, and then he walked behind me, and it was then I caught the highly odoriferous stench of his weed habit. (Did I mention that dreads are highly Unfavored once before?)

And all of the above was set up as I was at this same laundromat last night, as my clothes were scuzzed up and I had gone for 10 days without laundry, and was running short. Prior to tonight's visit, I got nailed with a 1.5 hour nap attack, always a big deal so they can hound my ass all the more afterward. And before that (this afternoon), I had my IV vitamin C infusion, another seeming excuse to hound my ass if all the extra road traffic on the way back is a reliable indicator.

Thursday, and a day off from winery work, as the grumpy owner is to complete all the left over tasks apparently. I just finished reading "Guinea Pigs" by Dr John Hall (more extensive and fair minded review here). Most notable is a riposte about psychiatrists:
"In medical school on can spot the individuals destined for psychiatry on day one. For the most part they are strange, often searching for self-help, and remain strange individuals focused on what they see as the more intellectual practice of medicine.... Psychiatry, unlike all other fields of medicine, has absolutely no basis in hard science."
Hilarious, and having had a recent go-around with one to deal with my dopamine deficiency when I presented two compelling tests (on a brain scan) which both indicated such, he tells me I have a dopamine surplus. Dr. John Hall has is exactly right; don't go to psychiatrists, and don't do street medications which will only serve to discredit you (as a TI) or else serve as an avenue to them to find fault.

I would of preferred that "Guinea Pigs" addressed more detail about the consistent themes in TI's lives, e.g. missing years (me, aged 2 to 5) and perhaps life long covert monitoring until the perps go overt and then run and ruin the victim's lives, now 15 years of this since they first went berserk/overt on me. And less mention on then President Obama, as I believe organized harassment and abuse is beyond any President's realm, who has no real control over what goes on at these levels. And less mention of the NWO and limits on gun control. Like, what is gun ownership going to do, except bring on on another (recent) Mandalay Bay/Las Vegas massacre event. Worth a read, and it has some good chapters on the available technologies of remote mind control, which are well advanced and supported with some more recent examples I was unaware of it, e.g. mass surrenders in the first Iraq conflict.

Mass hysteria may explain 'sonic attacks' in Cuba, say top neurologists  What absurd rubbish; "top neurologists", as in top neurologists in the pay of some agency and who don't mind looking like utter fools for anyone who has a thinking mind. There is ample evidence of remotely applied EMF weapons (per "Guinea Pigs" above), and even 60 Minutes showed a crowd control beam (called "active denial") weapon emitted by remote equipment. The unfortunate folks who were hit with these sonic attacks in Cuba are ill weeks later, both US and Canadian embassy personnel. Some of the victims moved to a new location and didn't get further attacks. Psychiatrists have lost all credibility with the DSM V making normal a medicable state to fuel the pharmo-financial interests (and more likely, the Grand Plan), and now neurologists are going stupid, per above news report. I think this is another example, just as the Trump antics are, of seeding the perception of chaos and authority ineptitude, or more fully, creating cracks in the public's perception of the credibility of government, professions and the like. (Psychiatrists never had much credibility in my book, (per above riposte) and all the more so, as they were abetting agents of the CIA nonconsenual human experimentation starting the 1950's, e.g. Dr Ewen Cameron in Montreal.)

I had a short work day in one of the vineyards I worked in over the summer. We were picking leaves for later lab analysis for virus presence. A systematic sampling pattern had to be followed, something I have experience with in my forestry training. I have worked with this guy before; he gets cranked over every little nuance that seems to go wrong, a negative dynamic the perps constantly seem to set up between me and him. Thankfully this scenario didn't last all day, and instead of hauling his too-wide trailer between the rows, and barely clearing the vines and drip lines, (the source of contention) we worked separately and didn't use the trailer. This doubled our work output, and seemed to work for him.

Golly gee... another fine coincidence; one of the above mentioned Albanians "happened" to be picking grapes with the vineyard next door. Said individual has worked in the same vineyard as me, the next door vineyard, more distant vineyards, and shows up today as well. I hadn't encountered him all this season save for the above mentioned encounters.

An insane gangstalk show at the specialty grocery store on the way home after vineyard work. And that same wretched woman staff-stalker was on again, this time at the till, and saying "hello" to me as I entered the doors. Normally she doesn't even look at me, so I don't know why I got this sudden welcome salutation. As in "here I am again", the ever stalking staff member perhaps.

A woman sucking on a cigarette outside trailed me in, then joined the aisle blockers after I picked up a cooked chicken, and then a fuckwit emerged from that grouptight on my ass, even if I started to walk faster. Then I decided to get the fuck out of there, and lo, a negro customer at the checkout. An in-out stalker, came too, one who arrives, walks past the checkouts (normally the wrong way to go if shopping) and then walks out again two minutes later while I was still there. I have seen so many of these at this store that the inane has become routine.

All this started because the cooked chicken in my fridge prematurely went bad, and  I needed to replace it on the way home. The perps just love these stop overs on the way home, and no better place to pull it than one of my regular stops.

And as the perps screwed me out of taking my garbage out last night, and again this morning before the garbage truck arrived, said rotting chicken will remain in the garbage can for a whole week, some 20m away from me, but near the landlord's house. Don't ask me why the perps are so obsessed over garbage and how long it sits around in my proximity.

My fickle friend of vineyard work came by, he still healing from his split knee cap, surgery, and just finished 6 weeks of physiotherapy in Kelowna. From what he says, it seems that the therapists didn't appreciate a low rating on a questionnaire that the patients filled out. Suddenly, certain patients were yanked from the program, some quite prematurely in their recovery. And it seems that many of the therapists were just posing for their jobs, and didn't get much involved, and would rather natter among themselves. Call it nasty-assed retributive health care, where honest questionnaire results get one woofed from the program. And additionally, two mantras from the therapy staff came in loud and clear; the theme of moving the patients on, and telling them all the pain was in their head. Such is healthcare these days; rotate the patients out ASAP, never mind how they are doing. And then pulling these mind games of telling the patient where the pain is. Doing George Orwell proud they are, at public expense.

A 9 hour sleep got me up at 1030h, and a late start to the day it was. Then some online work, and then some reading, "The Twelfth Planet" by Zecharia Sitchin, and lo, at 1500h, I got nailed with a 3.5 hour nap attack. These nap attacks are often aligned with when I am reading; 30-40 min. into the book, and then the sleepies start coming on. In dutiful fashion, I go lie down on the bed, and then await what comes. At one point in the dream they had me fussed over missing a flight, and then awakened me enough to know that it was in fact a dream, all to have me drop into another dream set. It took 30 min. of lying there to finally be able to summon myself to get up, forced by a need to pee that came on.

A brief synopsis of the book is that it is a researched study of Old Testament and Sumerian texts and pictographs, and based on the research it seems that we humans were once clones created to do mining work for the Nefilim (Anunnaki) of the 12th planet, Nibiru. Later, we were given the capability to reproduce and self determination. An interesting book, and of substantive merit in re-assessing the role life on the planet, of humans, how we got here so fast in evolutionary terms, and why so many ancient texts make references to the "gods" and their heavenly craft and unconventional capabilities. The book was originally published in 1976, and now is in its 45th printing. There are follow-on titles in this Book 1 of the Earth Chronicles series. To quote from the book; "we are not alone". Most TI's know that anyway; though some TI's seem to be harassed by more thuggish and retributive arms, while others seem to be under the thumb of a more research minded imperative (me). It is all the same to us; we are selected to be interfered, obstructed and abused, and the notion of democracy and self-determination is truly a mirage kept alive by our notion of the artifacts of freedom. Read "The Gods of Eden" to find out more about how humans seem to be put to use by an alterior agenda e.g. sending humans to war, along with extraconventional technologies.

A new-to-me site on gangstalking, mind control and cults is Dr. Eric Karlstrom's excellent web site. Plenty of interesting material here, though I don't get into cults much as I really do want to contain the scope of this blog, but I do believe there are one facet of this whole Grand Plan. Invoking trauma, especially on children seems to be so very important for the perp agenda for example. And what is it about academia that seems to be such a hot bed of senseless retribution, often resulting with the victim being gangstalked thereafter. This seems like an interesting story from Australia, The Red Back Web some 399pp. worth. I have not yet read it.

Anyhow, enough for the week, and I will get this posted.

Monday, October 09, 2017

Guinea Pigs

A new (2014) book by Dr John Hall, Guinea Pigs; Technologies of Control, also author of New Breed; Satellite Terrorism in America. The author is a MD, anesthesiology in San Antonio. A decent 17 min. video here. I have not read either book, but they are on my list, and the author is well spoken and highly respected in TI circles. In this video he mentions 300,000 reports of organized harassment, which likely covers workplace mobbing through to significantly greater harassment; gangstalking, abuse by conventional and unconventional technologies. The latter book was his story of interaction with a person who was suffering from these harassment issues. Where Guinea Pigs builds on the technologies and gets into its wider scope.

Interesting that my mother told me I was a "guinea pig" when I was five years old, though I had little concept of it at the time. Or little notion of what she was talking about until this rain, or reign, of harassment and relentless abuse came on me in 04-2002.

And I now learn my radiotherapy for prostate cancer begins in three weeks, a total jerkaround as it was to begin today. So three more weeks of sitting around and not a whole lot to do. Well done; string the victim out to do more of nothing. The reason I am pissed about this is that they had me from 2003 to 2008 doing nothing much, and are still at it. The worst of it is that the delay gives the perps three more weeks of hammering me with planted notions of going to LL for proton beam therapy instead, which is totally unrealistic. The cost would be over $100k, money I don't have, and would be a three day drive to get there. Yes, I did contact LL at one time to find out if I was eligible, and I would be, and in later correspondence I told them it was not feasible for financial reasons. It has been over a year the perps have been pounding me with this notion, and often with the same phrase, "LL for proton beam treatment is in your future". Just leave me alone, and stop pummeling me with infeasible and unrealistic dream scenarios. (There would be additional benefits of going to LL too, but I won't get into those, as it is not relevant).

Yoga tonight, and some of the regular crew were back. The cute young female butts of last week were mostly gone, but they did put two fat ones in front of me with an attractive slender young butt further behind them. And two new dudes, one seriously tattoo-ed with some fugly ink running up his arm, and on his leg. They also put the sometimes-friendly freak dude next to me; he became friendly over time, and he has now reverted to unfriendly. Variable friendliness is nothing new in this business. They had me at the SE back corner again, presumably to watch butts, and do comparisons between the large two and the attractive one further away. Don't ask me what that is all about, though I have read that one gets a dopamine rush if one sees something, or someone, attractive. Perhaps all this is a variation of the perp's alternating game of Unfavoreds with Favoreds; placing the fugly dude stalker with the cute blonde girl, and having them cross back and forth. In the above yoga instance I would get my dopamine rush from observing the ass end, if it is proportioned to my personal esthetic. Maybe the perps are building a total dopamine response profile of me; face, hair, eyes, butts, breasts and the list goes on, with selective covering of certain body features so that the dopamine rush is only from, say, the ass (per above yoga). Or, say only from the face, with her large body form or ass covered by a long sweater. And then they might map my dopamine response transition from cute face to large ass and all manner of other spatial juxtapositions and permutations. Go figure; all I want to be is left alone, and here we are, 15 years of relentless abuse and stalking, and it seems that they are nowhere close to done.

Before I went to yoga though, I got nailed for a 3.0 hour nap attack. It was after a late lunch lunch, and I had resumed reading for 20 minutes, and then the nap attacking came on. No sense in fighting it, so I laid down on my bed and lo, it was 1800h when I awakened in a state of semi-stupor. Again, I did not need the sleep, as I had a 9 hour sleep last night. These outrageous nap attacks take up so much time, and IMHO, are of no organic origin.

Mellow times these days, after waiting some two weeks for radiotherapy to begin, all to find out that it is going to be another three weeks of wait time.

But oddly, my one appointment of the day, to get the vehicle L headlight installed, became a stalking scene. I waited at the body shop for 30 min. while it was installed, and a granny stalker came to stand at the door for 15 minutes. Then I went to a machine shop to see if they can cut a groove in my hand pruners where my finger sits all day long when I use them in vineyard work. The need to ever modify things runs deep, and I suppose it just might be a perp need. They like to dig up the streets where I have walked and driven, so it doesn't surprise me that they would want to take some metal off a tool I have used for 100's of hours every year. Hopefully this will be an improvement, and not the faux "cause" of it breaking sometime in the winter when vine pruning.

Such mundane event turned out to be a bit of an over-obvious vehicular gangststalking afterward. I had a pick up truck (stinking diesel kind) and a VW Jetta ahead of me for two blocks before they turned L, where I do, off a tertiary arterial. Then one block, and then they turn R, which is unusual except for those living in this area, never two vehicles together until today. And even more obviously, they turn L 80' along where I make my usual turn down the lane where I park in. I said, "Fuck That", and went around the block, and into the lane from the other direction. And lo, these same two vehicles were parked in the lane, one each side, and only 6' between them. Like WTF, two vehicles trailing ahead of me through three turns down a lane, where no one to date (in four years) has done this, and then blocking my egress on public property with an obviously arranged lane blocking. I have been going down this lane nearly every day for 4 years, and have never seen anyone block it, save once with a Monday summertime party of pickup trucks opposite, two years ago.

A confluence of new music today and yesterday; web trovings of "best of's" revealed a new find that was in full album sample on allflac, and then three CD's arrived today, two from a new performer. All very good. Last week, one of my new CD's turned out to be a dud, and I didn't rip it, and will send it off to the charity outfit before long. I have these (seemingly arranged) music interests, where a number of new finds come via CD or online all about the same time. All of this is through my headphones as my amplifier is still in the repair shop, and the battle over that isn't over. Last week the guy said he would send it back and it was to arrive this week, as he couldn't find any problem with it. (It was crapping out on the L channel, and wasn't the player or the speakers). I haven't heard back as to whether he redoubled his efforts, as he isn't the communicating kind.

The stereo amplifier came back after six weeks away; so far, it seems to have magically fixed itself. Unless it was one big bullshit stunt by the vendor, claiming it was fine when he did fix it. Or else the perps fixed it, after sabotaging it in the first place. Exasperation runs river deep here, and all the more when consumer electronics, and particularly music listening equipment, takes on an escalated propensity for sabotage. Even the lowly portable DAP is now able to put out a signal into the amplifier and have it heard through the speakers. And that is most strange, as I couldn't get a damn thing out of it, no matter the input set I used. (But it did work fine through the headphone amp). I smell a fix (literally) at the vendor's end, after all, it took him three weeks to start looking at it. Hmmm... And it does seem the music is a little brighter and more detailed, or perhaps it was that I had a "rest" from listening to music from my speakers. As to why the vendor couldn't fess up and tell me it was a warranty fix I don't know. (Maybe it was to protract my fussing and fuming angst. Or maybe to duck the statistics on true warranty repairs etc.). I have given up on expecting honest and rational behavior in this Potemkin Village I live in.

My residence heat pump unit also had a unexplained failure of the front panel to open when blowing air. It was working fine when I was using it for the little air cooling in the summer, and then after three weeks of no use due to just-right weather between seasons, the panel didn't lift when I set it for heating. The landlord didn't seemed too fussed about it, and even aided the repair cause, by removing the panel, and allowing the heat to come out. And too, back to his/her habits of entering my place without permission again, as I had just departed for my IV vitamin C treatment.

The usual stake out at the doctor's office, this being the drop in clinic, as I needed two medication Rx renewals. And the usual pained look ("poor you", maybe) of the support staff. It seems black pants are in, as everyone was wearing them, save the atrocious tight white and light green checked pants of the woman opposite. I suppose it is de rigeur that everyone is plugged into their smart phone these days, busily at the screen doing something. Or is it just me, and that the perps need to surround me with stalkers on their computers wherever I go nowadays? Back in the early harassment days of 2002-3, there was a sudden eruption of stalkers on their cell phones then, but of course with more features and capabilities on these devices, not to mention a larger color display, the instance of phone/smart phone stalkers has escalated to 90% or more in any public captive situation. Anyhow, I was done in an hour, which isn't bad for all the patient surge games I usually get at this drop in clinic.

A visit to the shrink this afternoon started down its predictable futile path. The meeting was scheduled for two months hence, but a cancellation came up, and so I was back within two weeks. Naturally he ignored the SPECT scan results, (ADD inattentive subtype = dopamine deficient), and revelled in the consequences of the apartment invasion and the rest of this unconventional abuse and harassment that began in 2002. He didn't have any explanation as to whom the personnel where, nor the markings and physical remnants they left. Nor did he have any explanation as to why past dopamine agonists have been so helpful, and dopamine antagonists have been totally debilitating. The shrink concluded that I was "dopamine rich", which flies in the face of all preceding clinical history and the 2017 urine dopamine test results I gave him. I will spare you the actual diagnosis. But he did concede to contact the former shrink to 2011 who said that I was being harassed. As to whether this essential fact was entered into the record I don't know, but as I see it, it is just another dodge, likely designed to dig me deeper in this hole the perps made for me in 2002-3.  Well done perps; you had this figured out from the get-go. And in fact, had this figured out 200 years ago in the case of James Tilley Matthews (TI Zero, IMHO), illegally incarcerated by a shrink of the day (Dr Haslam) who wanted to make a name for himself by categorizing psychosis, but had this one patient that didn't fit his scheme (because he made sense). Hmm.... It is all there in Mike Jay's originally titled "The Air Loom Gang", now retitled as "The Influencing Machine", or the more mistitled  "Visionary Madness".

This whole dopamine deficiency treatment quest has spun totally out of control; all I wanted to do was get going on dopamine agonist medication to counter dysthymia, low motivation and ahedonia (all  caused by low dopamine), and to address the hormonal aspects of dopamine deficiency such as urination issues, (though too late for prostate cancer) and other immune system issues and more technically, which dopamine agonist treated the D1 or D5 family and what served what particular body or brain system the best. I never got to first base with this fucker, when I had him painted in a corner with tests and scans that supported my case. In fact, I didn't want to see a shrink at all, but a dopamine expert, and it could of been a neurologist or a endocrine specialist. Though in the latter case they aren't up to speed, anywhere near the research literature, and likely won't be for a half century. Coming in, I was 6 for 8 for useless (or more accurately, contrary) shrinks, and now the count is 7 for 9. And not forgetting that the first four blew me off about ADD, and the subsequent SPECT scan totally revealed that (organized, IMHO) futility.

I got stiffed with this stultifying fustard of a shrink who has taken this whole thing backwards to the extreme Fuckover scene of 2002-3, when I was kept illegally incarcerated, and hounded all over the PNW with targeted head pains. Anyhow, another meeting is scheduled, though I don't suppose the records he will be requesting will be any help. The die was cast last visit, and these fuckers don't/won't ever evaluate any new material in a new light, nor will they deal with the substantial inconsistencies in any way. The shrink kept begging off, saying "it is just my opinion", but really didn't have a substantial rebuttal when I said his opinion was full of holes that don't hold up. I at least was granted the request to make a dissenting opinion that could be added to the report. And too, I was at least allowed to hold my own and not be run over as usually happens in these circumstances, though not true for all medical practitioners. I never get to ream the urologist's ass out for his deceits and dodges.

I did ask the shrink if there was any involvement by any other party in my consult or report outcome. I got the interesting body (lie spotting) language again; the pause, the look up, and he said "no" and then went into an explanation as his report's history and disposition. That is the thing about lie-spotting; it takes a while to read the cues, as everyone's lying style is a little bit different. The last full-on lying shrink would look at the floor when I asked these pointed questions, and I became to find it funny that he was so consistent. As this is the second visit of this guy, and the first point-blank question about outside intervention that I posed, I don't have a "lying profile" for this guy, and I am unlikely to get one, as the next visit should be the last. For now, I will have to content myself to writing a pithy dissenting report. All to sit in his file cabinet of course, as I may elect to refuse to have it sent to the initiating doctor. Anyhow, I have seen enough of this idiot to know that he wouldn't know a D1 or D5 agonist from a hole in the ground. What good it that anyhow?

As to where all this is going dopamine deficiency-wise, I have no idea. The perps are now pummeling me with planted notions of "it is all going to work out fine", but there never was a cast of liar like them, ever.

Anyhow; who was that babe of a stalker at LD this morning who was on my ass just when I turned around in the aisle and couldn't find the shaving cream as LD had reorganized the shelves? I got the "usual" in-the-way-but-won't-look-at-me (vapid, I call it) countenance. Then she "happened" to be exiting the store ahead of me (not having done any shopping), to then lead me outside to the parking lot, and with her vehicle only two away from mine, which I thought it was an astonishing coincidence. Nice deep black hair, but the lipstick was a little strong, blackish-purple. If it was ML, she is now 20 years younger and her ass is now half the size, having seen her once in a ridiculous gangstalking scene in 2005-06. And the number of times they put stalkers on me just when I get skunked, (aka, dashed expectations) as in not finding what I expected to find, is another fine coincidence show that began when the harassment did, 04-2002.

Picking grapes today, at my former employer of 2012-15. I get $0.07/lb. That works out to roughly $200/day at my picking speed. I neglected to tell him that they were paying pickers $45/hour in California this year, as there was an urgent need and they couldn't find enough. I suspect grape harvester machine sales are going to go up for next year.

And picking grapes all day yesterday, with the perps making their presence know by pulling the picked bunch from my hand and dumping it on the ground. After one day of reasonable freedom from this intrusion, they started it up on the second day. Thanks a bunch assholes. I reckon they pulled this shit at least 100x in the day.

And Thanksgiving dinner with my employer's family for the last two dinners; nice of them to host this TI for a rare social evening. This time no boarding house reaches across my dinner plate, the height of rudeness I will surely never forget three years ago, same circumstances.

 And grape crushing and pressing work today after two hours of picking. I use the word "pressing" advisedly as the owner has this peculiar cheap-assed way of separating the skins from the juice; he runs the crush into bins with drill-hole perforations in the bottom, which retains the pulp and lets the juice run through to a screen below, and then into a recieving bin at the bottom. After 12 hours or so, he takes the top bin off with the fork lift and then dumps it, so it is a gravity only separation, no actual pressing. He gets an extended soak, unusual for white grapes, and the juice gets more air exposure (not good either) too. Anyhow, he did this when I first made wine for him in 2012, and won't get himself a real press.

I see the owner now has one of those motorized wheel chairs, aka, "mobility device". Here he is running a 5 acre vineyard, and a 20 ton (grape weight, before crushing) winery, as well as the sales etc. and he now has one foot in the grave. Not only that, he is doubling down, and starting a tasting room down below for next year. What was that phrase in "Teahouse of the August Moon", about ambition exceeding one's grasp?

Anyhow, time to launch this for the week, and see what the whole-life containment show brings next.

Monday, October 02, 2017

New York, New York

A 10 hour sleep, with pummeling dreams of being in New York City, or at least, that is what I was lead to believe. At one point I woke up as the dream was getting too intense, and then I was put back in the same dream sequence. As with most dreams, I recall very little, but one visage remains, and it was an yellow egg-shaped building with a spiral marquis around it, the letters in Cryllic (Russian), and red in color. Exactly why that would of been in New York, I don't know. It seems it was more like Metropolis in color. So no, I am not going to NYC, though it does interest me that so much high strangeness "happens" there, e.g. 911 and the WTC events of 2001, other aircraft crashes, including the ditching of US Airways Flight 1549 in the Hudson River, TWA 800 etc.

A 0930h get-up this morning, which made for a 11 hour "sleep", and I had a 1.5 hour nap attack in the late afternoon yesterday. In other words, I did not need the sleep. The term "sleep" in quotes is used as they routinely keep me awake for an hour at first, and often have me awaken in the night to keep me tossing an turning, often with their supplied notions of these various themes that seem to be so prevalent. One theme is the disastrous visit to the shrink last week, he blowing off my SPECT scan for ADD as "I don't see it" (because he never looked at the scans maybe, only the text), and what I might say next time. I don't really need to bother myself with such, as he is already a write off, so why would I be interested in the next meeting some 2 months hence? (Not that he asked how I was doing either,- some shrink). Another planted theme is Ms. C, of my Seattle days, a seeming full time operative planted to jerk my ass around, though be friendly from time to time until I last saw her in 2003. I had little romantic interest then (as it was clear she was abetting the perps then), but she claimed with a straight face that she indeed had a major romantic interest. As she spoke, I was thinking she cannot be serious. A few weeks later on the the next trip to the US, the border patrol pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever, as all I wanted to do was clean out my Seattle apartment. (Something Ms. C could of done if she was the kind to step up to the plate, but she didn't). Any email or phone contact petered out in 2008. As to why I would be now interested in this "long-gone" operative IMHO I have no idea. But when one's mind isn't one's own, these themes keep getting worked over, ad nauseum. I sense the perps are running out of material to plant into mind, and rework this old stuff for whatever reason.

Yoga last night, and the same regular hot flow on Mondays. A totally different crowd from last week, fewer cute asses to admire, partially because they allowed me back at my usual spot at the front. In the back, at the mat location I was at last week, the tasting room/accountant woman at the vineyard I worked, "happened" to be there for the first time. Not that she bothered to say hello at the end of class, as she turned the other way, and presumably went to a change room. So what is it about yoga that they put on this rotation of yogis, sometimes as many as 15 (close to full), and then the next week, a totally different group, about 10 or so, comes to class? Is it a "visit the victim" tour or what? I don't get it, and it just doesn't add up as normal IMHO.

I finally got a decent day with predictable good weather, to wax and clean my vehicle for the winter. The usual noises of suburbia came on; lawnmowers, dogs barking, back and forthing white vans etc. Once I started cleaning the vehicle glass, the aircraft came on; a big noisy helicopter N bound, and within a minute, a smaller S bound helicopter. A few circling small fixed wing aircraft, then another different helicopter and a few more. The perps liked to arrange glass cleaning fuckwits at store entrances when I lived in Victoria, and seem to have a huge interest in me seeing objects/subjects through glass, and then again directly.

I was finally allowed to catch up with a 2010 film, The Matrix, a supposed classic. Yes, it has the we-are-all-controlled theme, (perhaps dropping a hint, like so many movies do), but these heroic types manage to escape, and keep the hope that all of us can be freed with the support of Zion. Hmm... kind of obvious perhaps, though I doubt such heroics can be really applied. Perhaps I need to see better TI friendly movies, one that don't invoke so many action scenes to cover off the thin plot. And of course no supplied reasons as to why we might be controlled, or at least in part. Or that some are totally controlled and harassed and abused etc., TI victims case in point.

I read Behold a Pale Horse, a 1965 published book on UFO's, and did some statistical analysis to determine that 1 million people have witnessed them. For some reason the author was totally rejecting abductions which struck me as peculiar, if not, censorious. Cattle and livestock mutilations weren't mentioned either, though perhaps these were later developments and represent a further alien research interests. What struck me about the book and its commendable analytical style was all the differing alien craft shapes and sizes. Does someone make an intergalactic call, or perhaps arm twisting, to get all these various visitor beings with their varying craft designs to make a tour of Earth, a global "visit the victims" (humans, that is) tour? I don't know, but suffice to say, we humans don't know the half of their technology and won't be allowed to know anytime soon.

Not much doing these days as vineyard work has dried up. I went to my IV vitamin C clinic in the afternoon. One of the regular patients there was going on about aliens, and how they might come to help him. I don't think so, but what prompted that anyhow? I maintain that certain topics, or even snippets of information get dropped on me for reasons that I am unaware, though with three years of being memory wiped, aged 2 to 5, I am not sure what happened then and are these information "droppings" to invoke abreactions for that period? I don't know, but the gangstalking freak show seems to suggest that; large gutted males, elder stalkers, Scottish accents, fat folk, fuglies etc. So I suppose just as visual events are arranged, so possibly are concepts in verbal form. I didn't suggest to this patient that instead of beneficial outcomes from aliens, he just might find himself as a subject of a mutilation experiment (har, har).

I got some grape picking in two days ago, just a short job of two hours. Then the boss man wanted us to pick rocks from the just-planted section, so we did that for two hours. On the way out of the winery there was a class tour, with a ring of 15 students standing around the skin headed instructor in the center. As I was passing by this group I noticed a woman who I thought was a former vineyard coworker among the group, she having worked at this same vineyard/winery. I passed by within 4' of her and she kept looking at the instructor. Then I overheard the instructor say something as to building design, and then I knew for sure it was her, as she started a building designing course at the beginning of September. By then I was 15' away, but I turned around to look at her, then knowing for sure it was her, and then she waved in acknowledgement, and I waved back. Talk about yet another pretend-not-to-notice-me moment, as I figure if she worked at this very same location, she would be sure to notice anyone passing by on the likely chance that she would know them. I have been through many such moments like this since all this shit rained down 04-2002, and this was just another. This woman is a nice person, and not in any way a rude ass, so I figure this out-of-character vignette was staged for whatever reason.

Later in the same day I went for a hike at McIntyre Bluff, and a similar deal erupted. They had put the sprinklers on for the last 150' through the field on my return, which caused me to take an alternate route which ran me past the farm store. I often go to this store for produce after my hike. About 100' before I got to the store, the regular proprietor, got into her vehicle with her son, and stayed there for a few minutes. I was held up because another (same white color) vehicle was about to turn in front of me, so I let it go. (Vehicular cluster fuck at the farm, nothing new there). When I could finally cross this driveway, the proprietor woman drove off, no acknowledgement of course. She knows my name and is friendly, or at least in the past two years, though before she seemed scared shitless of me for some unknown reason. So I could suppose this was another pretend-not-to-notice-me moment, just a little further away than above, with a component plausible deniability.

And a third pretend-not-to-notice-me moment of the week was also concluded, this one in reference to the above vineyard/winery accountant who was at yoga. While finishing at the picking job she mentioned that she thought I was at yoga, and I mentioned that I thought it was her, but wasn't sure until she was leaving the classroom and headed the other way and spoke with the staff. (She has a distinctive accent). Well at least she came forward about it, but again I find it most strange that these folks are so incurious, and put on this same pretend-not-to-notice-me acts. This makes three of these on the week, two in one day. And if I am kept in a visible white light as I suspect I am, though I cannot see it, it makes these pretend-not-to-notice-me moments all the more contrived and orchestrated. The reason I mention being kept in a white light is that other TI's have mentioned this about their circumstances, and can only detect this by way of taking a photograph. To date, no photograph I have taken, or seen of me, has revealed any such white light. (Though some photographs have been modified from what they were when I took them, film and digital alike). Though for the record, I am kept in a densified magnetic field, measured 180-200 gauss in late 2002, and 1700 gauss in about 2008, though I have no idea if that would be visible. As far as magnetic fields go, I suspect that they aren't visible, as MRI scanners are many tens of thousands of gauss, and as far as I know, there is no white light emanations.

More dream subversion last night; in color, and with some recall no less. Both of the aforementioned dream "features" are unusual to me, though it could become the new normal, per above mentioned NYC related dreams. First, they had me consorting, and playing in a band, led by one of my fave performers EJ for short, from Boise ID. The second recalled dream segment was yoga related, in some respectable association with the woman who runs the yoga studio I frequent once a week.

And what is it about the perps needing to heavily pixellate music performers on YouTube? I started a Lola Beltran session, after being such a fan of her music (audio only) for such a long time. So... onto Youtube, and then the video is heavy with pixels. I give up, and don't watch, and listen only. Back to audio only.

Anyhow, enough to call this done for the week, and get it posted.