Sunday, December 24, 2017

More Lighting Installation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday, December 18, 2017

Futility Completion Episode

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Wait Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enough for the week and to get this posted.

Sunday, December 03, 2017

Clutch Play

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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