Sunday, June 17, 2018

The Train Wreck Look

There is no question I have got, and continue to get, strange stares since all this abuse and harassment rained down since 04-2002. One such caught my eye last week, and has caused me to wonder, yet again, if there is something about me that is visible from afar and that I cannot detect. I was driving along N Naramata Rd, and a woman was walking her dog on my side of the road. With no oncoming traffic I pulled over to straddle the center line to give her more comfort room, perfectly normal for such a narrow road with a limited shoulder. She gives me this look of abject pity, as if watching a train wreck from a passing vehicle. Normally the profusion of roadside dog walkers doesn't look at me at all, but this one stare from the same crowd caught me as peculiar. So just what was it that caused her to look at me so strangely, when in fact she might normally of been grateful for my consideration in giving her more clearance while driving past.

And this morning too; we got rained out at the vineyard so I went to the Ford dealership and got my part, and went to the cashier who had this pained look on her face. Geez, she might of been thankful that a customer was purchasing an overpriced ($21) windshield wiper, but no, instead this avoidant and pained expression. (This visit to the Ford dealership "happened" because two adjacent aftermarket car parts suppliers didn't have a 10" rear window wiper for crissakes). Or was it a visit the Ford dealership for a "victim tour"? They kept me there at the parts counter for 10 minutes because the only parts guy was in the back (I was told), while they paraded the male gut show, interspersed with a slim young attractive black haired woman in black overalls and big steel toe boots, an apparent female shop worker I hadn't seen before. (Don't the Ford dealership employees have anything better to do than parade around?) And for some reason I didn't get to see the friendly blonde woman from my last two visits; she of "I don't have children and I don't have a husband", as an reason to buy a new dog, and keep it at work.

Other TI's have mentioned a whitish beam around them that was picked up by a camera, but one they never saw. (Cannot find a link to this remarkable photograph). And I am being kept in a densified magnetic field, last measured at 1700 Gauss in 2008, where normal background field is 0.5 Gauss just might be the reason.

After getting straightened out with no nap attack yesterday, and a 7 hour sleep, I got nailed with a 3 hour nap attack this afternoon. The trend now seems to be that I don't need to read beforehand. Where for the last four months, the pattern was that I would read for 10-30 minutes (after work) and then the nap attack would come on. For the last week, no prior reading has occurred. As usual, there is absolutely no need for this much sleep, and I am not running a sleep deficit in advance. These nap attacks suck up so much time, and it would be interesting if there were a summary listing to identify the sleep totals by week.

Vineyard work..... shit stunt again.. assholes had the crapper in use, so a bigger problem than planned. Cost me another pair of underwear.. on and on the crap stunts go, not unlike the extra frequent pissing stunts that lasted from 2015-mid 2017.

Vineyard work; shoot thinning. Rain this morning, a slow drizzle that got one wet, mostly from the leaves on the vines. Plus water, infused with the last sulfur spray, flicking off onto me and my glasses. Then later, drinking the irrigation water as the main supply for it from my bottle. All in keeping with the water source games I suppose. Later, the sun came out and I got caught with my rain pants on for the last hour, which "duly" caused me to sweat, and so another water source (of a kind) soaking my clothes once I took them off at home. I think part of the water source games attraction for the perps is that anything wet changes color, usually getting darker. Which plays into the clothing color variance games, either on me, or most often, on passing gangstalkers.

Other vineyard action was the return of the "crane gang"; a large mobile crane, maybe 40 tons capacity that sat in the nearby turnaround for an hour while the dudes worked on it, often while on the phone. Said crane came there yesterday for an hour and then took off, which I thought was mighty peculiar. But today, it came for real, and eventually was moved to near the house under construction and was set up behind the trees. As to how they expected to see uphill and through these trees to the construction site behind I have no idea, but that was the scenario at lunch time when I witnessed this. By mid afternoon it had been driven from the job site and wasn't anywhere to be seen from the vineyard. Cranes and like boom trucks, as regular readers know, are a very common gangstalking vehicle. There is something about a large steel mass, particularly with telescoped and retractable sections, they just love to plant near me. As to what energetic advantages it confers, I have no idea. Just leave me the fuck alone after passing me the substantial cash for suffering this insane and relentless abuse-athon to date.

Another vineyard "treat" today was the addition of gratuitous noise when I was at the end of one of my rows. This fat dude came by on an ancient JD tractor and drove it around on the adjacent pavement for 10 minutes. There was pavement on two sides where I was, about 20m away each, as I am working on a corner of the property. Any other tractor is either doing work in its respective vineyard, or is transiting from one to another (passing by). Save one time when the tractor driver stopped, and popped the hood at this very street corner for 30 minutes, covering me as I departed for the day. And yes, gratuitous hood popping of vehicles has been another arranged "outbreak" that occurs with considerable greater frequency since this shit show invaded my existence in 04-2002.

The noisy JD tractor was followed with later loud mufflered vehicles passing by, curiously stopping for a few minutes, and then proceeding. Another follow-on noise was an ATV for five minutes from an adjacent vineyard. I suppose I am too far from the house building noise, so they create more noise to suit the location I am located. Noisestalking is decidedly an important and highly governed part of this whole choreography. This would be the third house building at the last four vineyards I have worked, 2015-2018.

A partial work day, and a paid joint lunch for us vineyard and tasting room crew at the winery. In typical fashion, the women filtered out over time and the last half hour was chatting with my two male vineyard coworkers, both decent guys. Again, the female, and then male association transition. (Or sometimes, a rapid switch where the fugly dude steps in front of the darling attractive blonde in the gangstalking choreography).

Of prior interest was that a helicopter came to loiter near the vineyard, less than 80' above the terrain, following the powerline in part, but then returned to hover some 10 minutes in one position. A deep red AStar, an most unusual color livery as it was difficult to detect among the green tree foliage. Which might of been the whole perp idea, as they like to alternate reds with greens, though white colors are more common.These power line helicopter flights "happen" every 3 to 5 years, but this was the most obvious with the extended backtracking they performed.

Saturday, and a day off; and a lazy one at that. It wasn't enough that I had a 8 hour sleep, but also got nailed for a two hour nap attack later in the day. I got laundry done, and then onto the Ford dealership to get the small rubber bumper for the gasoline tank hatch cover, one that stops it from rubbing on the inside. Given that gasoline is a predominant perp interest, as with all petroleum products, why was I surprised that some glitchy small part had somehow disappeared from inside the non-lockable gasoline tank access hatch. That there was two of them, and one disappeared somehow didn't surprise me either. Anyhow, after putting the rubber part back in, the hatch cover still didn't sit right. And yes, having automotive body parts misaligned is also part of the perp's games I have come to know.

I also got a bee in my bonnet over my vehicle licence place holders, as they were getting shabby, and the parts guy at the dealership came out to "help" me. I got a free one, one that advertised the local Ford dealership, and took the front one off. When I later mounted the new one, one of the two dissimilar screws wasn't long enough, so I went back to the local Ford dealership. I turned out they were metric M5 x 13 screws, which they didn't sell any more. More fun and games, including going to a local aftermarket automotive parts supplier and getting skunked there, as they didn't have metric screws. End of attempting to find metric screws in this town.

On my first trip to the Ford dealership, my doorway stalker this time was the blonde woman staff member (per above) I had spoken to the time before, and a rare instance of a friendly woman in this town, in my experience. She comes out the doorway, and says "hello handsome, keeping out of trouble?". She accompanied me (stalked as I see it) inside, and I thanked her for the compliment, and said I was doing my best to keep out of trouble. Again, at least five clustered around her afterward is this ongoing employee parade at the Ford dealership. On my later trip to the Ford dealerhip, to sort out the metric screws issue, per above, she was absent, and instead I had the loitering males at the doorway. I have never experienced a door way with so much gangstalking action, when there so very little seeming reason for it, as there isn't much other customer activity going on there when I am there.

Sunday, and I worked in the vineyard to catch up. All by myself, and even the property owners were away, though leaving their dog to bark plenty. The noisescape was on the low side, unusually, save for the dog barking for an hour. (Which caused me to stop listening to my headphones while this commotion was on, in keeping with their long running game of interupting music listening). Even aircraft, save that ridiculous local red gyrocopter, were minimal. This red pickup truck that sort-of belongs to the property was moved from a neighboring property (strangely) to be parked behind my vehicle sometime during the day. This same red pickup truck gets parked in strange places on and off the vineyard property and then gets moved for curious reasons, like some kind of ritualistic choreography. I thought it was interesting as to why it wasn't parked in the driveway, near where I was working all day. No doubt the red vehicle gangstalking nonsense and the commensurate the distant dependent games has years to run yet. Maybe I will come to own a red vehicle somehow.

No card or phone call from my daughter for Father's Day; not wholly unexpected given last year's lassitude, and now more of the same. This was the same person that insisted I call my perp abetting mother on Mother's Day for crissakes. Family behavior strangeness suddenly came on when the perps first went berserk/overt in 04-2002, and hasn't let up.

And my ambition to write up a resume for a local foundry for a laboring job came to naught for the past two weeks, and is effectively over, never sent. The perps kept hitting me with some kind of mental dithering that prevented me from putting it together when I was working on it. Add in the de-motivatiing interference, and their deed was done. No resume, nothing sent. I could of done with more pay, some benefits and a full time job in a metal plant, but no, the assholes want me kept on working vineyards, augmented with the odd wine purchase and/or sampling, and then off work for 4 months. They constantly raise the fuckery when I move to a new varietal or clone, having my co-workers chat me up at length at these intervals.

Enough rambling for the week, and time to get this posted.

Sunday, June 10, 2018

Brown Toe

The fungal infection on my foot for the past 16 years, a brown streak covering half my big R toe, has increased in size, and is even breaking up the nail. Ergo, a trip to the walk-in doctor, this time without getting skunked. That is, in these here parts, these kind of clinics shut down after x number of patients in a day. So going there anytime after 1500h is a risk as to whether they are open or not. Some weirdos in the waiting room for sure, and the bouncing foot games were prominent; at least 4 of the 8 parties ahead of me had this "problem". A young E. Indian gave me a pointed stare at one point, and then kept her head down for the rest of her 25 minute stay in the waiting room. Like WTF; we are close to 40 years age different, and I have no interest in dating anyone, so why the stare?

A 30 second meeting (yep) with the doctor, the foot exposed for 10 minutes while waiting, and I got my Rx and was done with it. A later $107 hit for the medication, and now some 84 days of 1x/day application for crissakes.

And lo, if this wasn't the same foot where I had an unexpected boot lace failure two days prior. Considering I have the uninvited company of an insane agency that is obsessed with my footwear and shoe laces, I cannot consider this to be a coincidence. As to why, I don't have a clue. In the long past I have had double tied shoelaces suddenly unravel in mid-street, forcing me to stop, re-locate myself out of the way of traffic, and then get treated to a sudden gangstalking swarm while re-tying the shoe lace.

A later trip the SOF supermarket; going at 1900h, earlier than I usually do to avoid the gangstalking intensity. And yet more weirdness; this 140lb punk-ish guy in biker leathers with his chin pointed up was leaning up against a pallet load of items, just hanging around, not even a shopping basket in hand. Like WTF; doesn't everyone just hang around with nothing to do in a supermarket? Pu-leeze; the hang-around section is where the seats are for eating. Said extra-obvious stalking scum was later doing a walk-by stalking just outside the store as I was at the checkout, still no groceries in hand. Talk about a fish out of water, and then he doubles down for reprise stalking. Go figure.

A new yoga instructor tonight. She started last week, but I "happened" to miss the class due to an extra long nap attack. It seems every time they change the yoga instructor, I "somehow" miss the first class. I think this is the fourth time this has "happened".

My daughter's birthday yesterday, and I phoned twice and had sent her a card with a gift card well in advance. She finally deigned to return my call today. I just find this whole relationship deal so contrived and faked; she sends me one email/mail about my prostate cancer episode that began in 06-2016, (diagnosed for me on her birthday in another round of high coincidence), in mid-2017 when treatment plans were well in place. "Try (harder) to look like you care" I might say in a unguarded moment.

I finally made my phone call to the WA, USA clinic for ADD, for an appointment, a plan that I had for six months and kept getting de-motivated. What it takes to get needed things done. This was in the works after the local shrink turned out to be an outrageous quack whose epic obstruction will never be forgotten. After hearing from a co-worker who has ADD who saw this same quack to the same non-result, I wrote him up RateMD. Search "MacIntyre Penticton" to see my rare online evisceration of one of these capable crazies, aka, psychiatrists. Though to be fair, there are a few doing brain scans who know what they are doing and are genuinely helpful and doing good work. Beyond that, it is "darts in the dark", a quote from one such progressive and respected brain scan proponent.

After the hi-jinx in 2003 when crossing the USA border, heading to Seattle to clean out my apartment, when the border patrol pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever, I am not optimistic that I will make the above appointment in person. I haven't been back there since, so more trepidation. But the perps do like to crank me when crossing borders, so who knows what that was about. And for the record, I don't do anything odd or illegal, nor do I have any criminal record or other legal issues that would draw their attention.

 My vineyard fickle friend came for a visit last evening. He likes to sample my chairs it seems, a continuing "habit" (assignment as I see it) of his where he sits in multiple chairs over the evening. As it "happens", he is going to purchase a Ford Escape, the same make of vehicle as mine.

A 9 hour sleep lat night, and then I got hit for a two hour nap attack late afternoon for crissakes. Why is it they wake me up halfway through these nap attacks, and then just when I think I can get up, I get hit with another hour? This "happens" nearly every nap attack; a mid-nap attack awakening to see the time, then resolve to get up, and then get hit with a substantially longer nap.

I got the vehicle washed and waxed today; normally a May activity to avoid the intense sunlight, but given the constant sleep (as in nap attacks) disruptions, along with the de-motivation blues, it didn't get done. But on a Sunday, the weather cooperated, and I got cloud cover enough so the wax didn't cook on the vehicle before I could buff it.

I was looking to upgrade my sorry work existence with a laborer job in a metal working plant, that paid better with benefits and was full time, but wasn't allowed to even pull a resume together. I got scrambled and suddenly demotivated. It seems the perps want me to work with plants and not have it full time. Now ten years of farm work, and per usual, it isn't full time. After the puff-ball interview of January, and the non-interview of April, both jobs where "viticulture experience is preferred" and were full time, it is plain obvious that my career path, such as it is, isn't my own. Which I strongly suspect, was true all along, since I began to work.

And of interest to me, my planted fantasy figures have come to a terminal end. Now 16 years of being a MLB player and other heroic athletic exploits, this fantasy figure has come to a premature end due to a traffic accident. Fantasy funeral and memorial events are getting played in mind of late. I wonder what this portends, though with the ongoing fuckery, extra pit-lamping, gangstalking etc. of late, I don't believe the Thems have anything planned for me of like kind. After 47 years of covert surveillance and harassment, and now 16 years of overt harassment, I cannot envision they would stop, or in any way change anything until they have attained whatever nonconsensual human research results they are after. And of the 47 years, when aged 2 to 5 y.o. there was three years where they wiped most of my recall. God knows what they did to me then, and the many other TI's and subjects who suffered the same fate.

And what is with the increased itches of late, often on my face? While doing vineyard work and no one else is around, I wear headphones and listen to music. And it seems the love to create an itch behind my glasses which means I need to take them off, then my hat, and then my headphones. Usually these are timed about 10-20 minutes into a music listening session or after I change the listening session. Another timing for planted itches is when I finish a row, and then go to the next, proceeding 180 degrees in the opposite direction, a time honored event where others also seem to arrive, or other fuckery erupts.

Anyhow, time to get this posted and call it a week.

Sunday, June 03, 2018

Headlight Hell

And why the intense headlight coverage now? Also known as pit-lamping in this here blog. (One develops a new vocabulary to deal this highly consistent and peculiar behavior that erupts everywhere I go). Every time I get out of my vehicle, turn a corner, or am around it in parking lots. And they even bounce headlight reflections off the glass doors off the mall as I am walking toward them. Next, we will have Fuckwits wandering around with headlamps on in the day time.

And too, extra coverage of stake-out gangstalkers around me when I am at my vehicle, especially in parking lots. These Fuckwits pull in around my vehicle while I am inside at the store and then just sit there in their vehicle, headlights on of course. Like there is a permanent drug deal going down wherever I park, save for the headlights. Another stunt is to have the stalking bicycle bum "happen" to cruise by my parked vehicle as I open the hatch to put my groceries inside. How convenient, and how obvious. A whole big empty parking lot and the bicycle bum "happens" to cruise 2' from my vehicle. Uh-huh.

A new vineyard worker today; a high school kid who will be attending university in the fall. As it "happens", he does part time for my former employer of 2015-2016.

Somehow I "missed" yoga tonight, Monday being my usual time. Only a one hour nap attack tonight, but no reminder about my schedule. Well done.

A two hour nap attack following reading tonight. I finished reading a more recent but shorter book on Igor Gouzenko, the spy case that began the Cold War in earnest. (And snapped the then Canadian Prime Minister out of his infatuation with Stalin, and wanting to be friends). Then back to "Comrade J", about a KGB defector to the US in 2001, one who brought with him lots of information as to the perfidious travails of his masters. And too, an expose of the corruption of Russian political players, especially Boris Yeltsin and company. A nation of thugs, and some details on the present Thug-in-Chief as well.

Finished "Comrade J", and what a tale, though the details of the revelations aren't in full. And no nap attack tonight. So what is it about me reading of Soviet or Russian spying, or spying in general that so interests the perps that they have plied me with this lore for at least 40 years? I don't know, but there is a Russian focus to all this harassment and what I am exposed to, though I haven't been there and have no interest in doing so. (Also, I have never worked in these circles, not even remotely). I do suspect that the whole spying game is rigged to some extent, given the endemic and intransigent incompetence of the UK secret services of 1940-70 and how they were penetrated for so long and didn't seem to get it. Perhaps it relates to information being passed around, something the perps have an inordinate interest in I have come to learn. And you thought all those school shootings were random?

I "forgot" my tool belt today, only 1' from my tool bag which I picked up. That I was utterly furious is an understatement, as it has never occurred before. After weeding for the first 30 min., I drove home to get my tool belt. And what a holy vehicular cluster fuck it was, all in keeping with these arranged congestion events anytime that I return to town at an irregular work day hour.

 This was the day that K came back from her 5 day trip to Boston, returning via Montreal. A curious trip in all, but rich with perp connections, which I mentioned in the last blog posting. That she didn't say much about the trip wasn't too surprising, as she is the reticent kind to say the least. Another surrogate travel job perhaps.

No nap attack tonight for some reason. Instead I ended up talking to the landlady about prostate treatment issues, as her husband has some issues. And we also talked about the whacked-out asshole urologist in town, the only one apparently, and one of only 75 in BC. She said the urologist's administrator blocked their attempt to get a referral to a private clinic in Vancouver for crissakes.  The medical assistant said she "didn't believe in private clinics". They pulled a workaround and got their private clinic appointment in a week, instead of 6-9 months in the public system. Imagine that; ideological imposition on one's health care, via the medical assistant. I am sure it happens plenty more often than that.

And who fucked with my alarm clock, such that it rang 45 min. later than usual? I haven't set it for months,  as it is regularly set for 0530h, and after I turn it off, I usually slumber for 30 minutes longer and get up, with extreme difficulty often, at about 0600h. This morning it rang at 0645h, so who in the fuck changed the alarm time? This wouldn't be the first of this kind of fuckery, as I get about two of these two per year.

Finished the vineyard work at the R vineyard today, and as K and I walked past the tasting room this guy was standing outside smoking a cigarette for crissakes. K departed and then the butt-sucking guy and two other males exited the tasting room and joined him in the parking lot and got into a vehicle beside mine. A most curious collection of wine tourists to say the least.

The high school kid wasn't here today, as he has another gig, so I it was just me and K today. She departed for a one hour shopping trip in between vineyards, and later showed up at the K vineyard to help tuck vines and take down the next tucking wire.

A 1.5 hour nap attack tonight, starting into a new book, "The Hideen Life of Trees". So, as it turns out, it isn't just spy non-fiction books that bring on nap attacks. Such books have been regular fare for at least three months, and the nap attacks increased with astonishing regularity when I began this reading cycle.

A visit to SOF, and lo, if the nap attack didn't cause me to be too late to procure a cooked chicken, my usual fare. I had to make do with cooked chicken pieces. The usual rotational gangstalking Fuckwit show, one being a couple, and whom attempted the couple split by going on either side of me. I went down another aisle and avoided this time-honored gangstalk stunt. Been there, had it done to me many times. Another stalker was a woman I know from last year's employer, she running the tasting room. I hadn't seen her for nearly a year, and she hung around and pretended to not know I was there. She was curiously dressed in loose baggy clothing, and although slim, her outfit was so out of place from what I had known. And she looked rather grim as well, like some depressive hippy chick. I thought she lived in Kelowna, so I was surprised to see her here. Anyhow, just another of those pretend-not-to-know me stunts again. This public behavior also ramped up considerably since 04-2002 when all this harassment and abuse came down.

Pardon my ignorance, but what is it about the current Roseanne hulabaloo, and then getting her show canned on ABC? I didn't see anything "racist" in her remarks, just bad taste. But given the hyper-extended definition of this term nowadays, amplified by social media and the ever abetting lamestream media, one has to wonder if there is any sanity left in the entertainment business. (The entertainers are sane for the most part, but the knives are out if one crosses this mutable line). Some quotes from this Fox News link, even if I don't in any way agree it was racist.

 Referring to Valerie Jarrett, who is African-American, by her initials, Barr tweeted Tuesday: “muslim brotherhood & planet of the apes had a baby=vj.” Barr later apologized to Jarrett and the public and deleted her tweet, calling it “a bad joke.”

 Well, that’s what we call Hollywood hypocrisy. It’s permissible for actors and broadcasters to attack conservatives and Christians. And Hollywood especially loves it when celebrities attack Trump supporters.

 A few hours after the network pulled the plug on “Roseanne,” MSNBC’s Chris Hayes summed his take on the scandal.... “Roseanne’s problem turned out to be that she far too authentically represented the actual worldview of a significant chunk of the Trump base,” he said.... And that’s why ABC canceled “Roseanne.” Network executives could not stomach the show’s “deplorable” viewers.
Let's see; we have an effete and politically correct lamestream media outlet that wants to dump a significant number of its viewing base base. It makes sense in a way, as Roseanne doesn't represent the lamestream media political perspective. I sense continuing deep divisions in media-land, and wonder if it will ever recover from this. Trump's disregard of the media is prescient, though I am not a big fan of his, but he has his fundamentals correct. Onward and downward.

Rare, but not unkown; a fake evening time nap attack, and a knock on the door snapped me into action to get up. But no one there. I have had these before, and for the record, there is no street access to this property, it is only through the landlord's property. And nothing left at the door, if it were to be a parcel.

Sunday, and I was the only person working in the vineyard today, the boss man having sprayed yesterday. Curiously, the vineyard owner family were camping at the end of the row where I was working, tent, chairs and vehicle. Like, they have a nice house some 300m away, and appeared to be awakening around 1000h, even more strange with two children under 10 there too. Go figure.

And I was under significant harassment attack this morning when getting ready for work; the usual abuse of pulling items out of my hand, sending me to the fridge for nothing, and other cognitive impairments that are highly irregular in the "normal" course of these regular activities. And the assholes didn't let up in the vineyard either, with tucking wire games, exploiting the fact that these wretched steel posts don't lock the tucking wire very well, and consequently arranging 3 way tangle ups that looked like wire braiding at first glance.

In the afternoon, they pulled a shit attack, exploiting the presumed radiological damage from the prostate radiotherapy of last fall (2017). Now, seven month's later, it isn't getting any better when off the medication they supply me. And no ordinary shit attack; the outhouse was infested with mice and mice shit, there was only just enough toilet paper (the boss "forgot"), and I lost a pair of underwear out of the deal. I haven't had it this bad since the radiotherapy side effects began in 01-2018, and it pisses me off no end that the perps are ramping this up when I should be getting better. And lo, if the vineyard owner didn't "happen" to pointlessly drive by when I was in the crapper. His red truck was 100m from his house and parked (curiously, in this game of nonstop parking musical chairs), and then he drives by, and then parks 100m from the camping location and then walks the rest with his kid and breaks camp. And he had a vehicle there at the camping spot. More go figure. And it wouldn't be the first time that adjacent vehicle activity erupted when visiting this same crapper.

Another nap attack after work, two hours worth, again without running a sleep deficit, as I went to bed on time last night. More go figure. And always after reading for 10-20 minutes. Back to the theory of being more "psychically accessible" when sleeping. And too, just what is it about information, just read, though not necessarily retained, that they are so interested in? Again, ever wonder if all those awful school shootings, assuming they are real, are really random?

Sunday, May 27, 2018

Dude Flush Gangstalking Tactics

What is it about going to the supermarket that has the perps covering me with these flushes of dudes? Said dudes at the supermarket; first tail me individually, and then split off and one even paralleled me in the next aisle just when I thought I ditched the fucker who was hot on my ass. (Not many walk as fast as I do, but his asshole was game for some reason). Another in the produce section was on my ass, and then another takes over. Not quite "tag teaming", but same concept. Improbably, they then they cluster together at the same section (bacon), each pretending to be shopping independently, within 4' of each other for 30 seconds and then they split apart. I call it the "come together" gangstalking move. Then one o them "happens" split off to perform a lead-ahead stalking to the location I was headed next, the cooler cases for the coconut milk. Then a reprise of at least one of them again when at the checkout. Does this shit ever end? And why the flush of dudes, and this ridiculous choreography? And who are these fuckers; trained-up shills just for this event, or long term operatives? My inclination is the former, given how well they fit in with the general ill-dressed populace, and the gut-prone comportment, but one never knows. And besides, if they can insert thoughts so readily, my initial notion could be flat wrong. In Victoria, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada, there was a more obvious component of males without a day job, and were more dressed up, but not here, casual wear being the biggest cover going.

Shoot thinning in the vineyard all this week. Mostly sunny, save the odd spatter of rain or a thunderstorm threat. My work colleague is going to Boston for five days, to "see a friend" she says. Not bad for a small town single mother to have these contacts, but it does seem odd to me. Because Boston is a heavy perp center, is it possible that this woman going as some kind of surrogate for me? All the more peculiar is that she is flying back via Montreal, a city of infamy when it comes to psychiatric research, especially in the 1950-60's. So terrible were the "treatments" (tortures), that the Allen Memorial Center destroyed all the records in 1972. Then this MKULTRA related appalling atrocity of Dr. Ewen Cameron and his staff became publicly known in 1974. And I lived in Montreal in 1956-7, and 1958-59, and I have nearly no memories of this time, even if I was beginning to make long term memories in 1956. So anyhow, is this woman doing a surrogate tour?

It wouldn't be the first time that someone I know has gone traveling on my "behalf" as I see it. My perp abetting mother, ex and daughter did a tour together of Ottawa, Montreal, Washington DC and NYC a few years ago, (about 2013), and none of them ever lived or had any prior connection to Ottawa, Washington DC and NYC. My daughter hadn't been to any of these cities before, and the same for the ex. But in the case of Ottawa, the ex had a "friend" (again), someone I hadn't known about in the 20 years we were married, and said "friend" put them up and toured them around in Ottawa. In the case of Ottawa, psychiatric research atrocities were also performed there too, contemporaneous with Montreal of the Dr. Ewen Cameron brain trashing games. Anyhow, it is just idle speculation that I might of been in Ottawa during my memory deleted years of 1956-59.

Though the "friend" label has been used in the past to cover for actions of others who didn't seem like friends at all. Back in 07-2003, the landlady had "friends" stay over at her place, who turned out to be at least five dudes living upstairs, up to some kind of hi-jinks with masers and plasma beams, as my basement suite was riddled with this visual activity. This was especially noticeable at night when in bed, as all these plasma (light) beams came shooting down from above. Once they nailed me in the toe with a beam that was immediately painful, enough to yell at the assholes, and then I experienced this sudden flood of thought, as in planted thought, that they were very sorry. It was most strange, as I don't normally get this kind of reciprocation or empathy from them; its all one way, and its all about riling me up and pissing me off. (Or traumatizing and terrorizing me for the initial year of this assault onset, 04-2002 to 2003.) I think it was the only instance where I got some kind of "feedback" from them in the form of a emotional notion. Back in the high-Fuckover days of 2002-2003, I sometimes had some telepathic verbal engagement with them, and additionally I also got the odd dull (not painful) acknowledging sensation in my toe.

Back to surrogate travelers; my perp-abetting mother, ex and daughter are on a week tour of Iceland at present. Again, none of them have been before, and have no direct heritage there. As to why they would go in May when it is still perishing cold there I have no idea, but a lot of their travels haven't made much sense, per above.There is a geographic component to this harassment as well when they want others to travel in my footsteps, though in this case I haven't been there, ever. Not even a flight stop-over.

I changed vineyards to work closer to town, and it is much closer to Naramata Rd, and is fraught with a whole lot more road noise. Enough that I don't bother to put on my headphones as the noise will come pummeling through the music I am listening to. As always, there is only so much music they will let me listen to before they disrupt it. Prior to this, I had listened to music via my DAP and headphones for most of the day, some four days in succession. Sure, there were the odd interruptions from the boss man and my co-worker, but these were minimal. And too, occasional noise insertions from the adjacent house building, tractor work, and it almost goes without saying, overhead aircraft activity, usually helicopters.

A parcel pickup after work, and what big gangstalk at the PO. Another ski jacket purchase, getting them on sale at this time of year. But it was too small, so then a later parcel return attempt, but I missed the PO opening hours by 5 minutes. More gangstalking silliness there too, along with a another another dude flush, plus a tail in, a tail out, the kids strangely playing outside the store etc.

And what is with all the male guts these days? Its just plain disgusting.

I got nailed with a 2 hour nap attack tonight, and am rather groggy to say the least. Again, it followed reading a book. I thought I was past this imposition, as I haven't had an evening nap for a week, but no, they got me good tonight. There were some momentary awakenings, when a half hour into it, I looked at the clock, and thought "good, just a short nap". Then again after an hour, this time thinking "glad it was only an hour". Before I knew it, it was two hours later and feeling so very groggy. The perps have had me on this "split shift" sleeping schedule for at least three months now, and I was finally beginning to shake it this past week, but not tonight.

Another day (Sunday) at the road noise vineyard, with of course, the infernal HD motorcycle noise added in, at least 10x. One employee at the tasting room even came out "for a walk" she said, and stopped by for a chat, as she had done some vineyard work at her former employer. Apparently she is writing up this in a online newsletter as part of her promotional duties. Interestingly, she "happened" to come by just when there was a mid-row change in varietals. (The only row of about 50 like this where the plantings are both for one row). And given the past flushes of work colleagues and/or stalking stunts when we changed blocks (and varietals) last year, it just seems to be a big deal for the perps. Not quite as activity bound as when I get to the end of a row, any row (i.e. direction change), but a big deal enough to crank up the stalking silliness some. As to what the perps get from this I don't know, but perhaps there is a "vibe" (aka, energetic resonance) particular to one plant variety versus another, and they want to detect this interaction between a given plant variety and me. Of a given varietal and clone, all the plants are genetically identical. Interestingly, the regular vineyard has multiple clones of the same variety, e.g., merlot xyz clone versus merlot abc clone, and for three other varietals as well. Go figure. They definitely have been working me up for multiple varietals and clones of the same varietals for the past six years of this vineyard laboring gig. The 2012-2014 vineyard was 99% all one clone of the pinot blanc varietal.

Enough for a posting for the week, and to call this one done.

Monday, May 21, 2018

Biographies -Why?

Why do the perps so like me to read biographies or view biographic cinema? I don't know, but I just finished reading "Frida", a biography of Frida Kahlo, a well known Mexican artist who died in July 13, 1954. And made known in that wonderful biopic, one of my all time favorite films, "Frida". I have viewed this some 8x on DVD, and then it mysteriously froze on a frame, and so I purchased a Blu Ray version, yet to be seen for more than 10 minutes of it, and has remained in my disc player for two months now.

Interestingly, she was born on July 6, (1907) same birthday of the year as me, and died one week after I was born. Anyone out there who has thoughts on the spirit/soul connection of this event to me? I suppose well known people die every day somewhere, and too, births of unrelated and distant children will follow, so I really have no idea as to why Frida Kahlo's persona has been scripted into this controlled theme show.

When all this abuse torrent came down in 2002, and in 2003, I did see the film "Frida" twice (unusual for me for a cinematic offering), and came to know of this artist for the first time. This was also notable as the assholes had me in illegal incarceration back then, when it seems they had all manner of high expectations, hence the intense level of outrageous abuse and gangstalking at the time. Although kept, I had some freedom to go about in the afternoons and saw the film at a nearby cinema. Fast forward to about a month ago, I picked up a used copy of "Frida", the well researched book by Hayden Herrera, and became acquainted with this out sized and vibrant personality all the more. I simply cannot imagine any other artist that suffered more physically and emotionally than her, though to be fair, I don't know a whole lot about art history.

I did determine, one instance from the book, another from the Youtube documentary, that two of her students in separate incidents each felt her presence from behind, "like an electric charge". As to whether that constitutes perp intrusion at the time, one can only speculate. If true, the perps took another step up the imposed cruelty ladder, as she suffered terribly, but countered with her indomitable energy and resilience.

I don't have any Mexican genealogical connections, though I did meet a number of Mexicans in my farm jobs, 2008-2011. In other words, I am at a loss to explain why the perps have injected this interesting and vital personality (Frida Kahlo) into my existence, even if through film, text and music. And why the Mexican connection, as I have never been there. (My landlord couple went there for a month in 02-2018, interestingly). This is all for the record only, and unless there is some other developments, I don't expect to bring it up again, though I will also view the Youtube documentary sometime soon. Then, hopefully, my Frida Kahlo interest, (read, planted theme), will subside.

A long weekend here in Canada, a week before Memorial Day weekend in the US. I did two days of shoot thinning this weekend at the 2012-2014 employer's vineyard, thinking that I was going to be bottling. Instead, I got stiffed with the same job as at the regular Mon-Fri employer. Whatever; shoot thinning is a singular occupation, just you and the vine tending, so it is optimum for putting on the music player and headphones and getting all day music listening. I get plenty of overhead aircraft during shoot thinning (and listening to music), the noise getting pushed through the headphones. And the odd tractor in the vineyard too. But otherwise, I get to spin through my music, and get a tan. This past week has been good for that, if not overly so. I seem my initial tan is peeling on my back, even after all winter tan salon preparation.

And more tanning this holiday Monday; unrelenting sunshine, ergo, get a skyclad tan in the back country after taking a hike to get out of the way of any viewing public. That didn't stop two low altitude aircraft flying past, but for the most part it was at least a dozen high altitude aircraft that kept up the overflight show. And no contrails interestingly, usually an excuse for creating cloud cover and messing up the sunlight intensity. Not today for some reason.

One perturbance on the hiking trail was the cattle, which are released to roam the region around the trails. Which translates to the bull getting pissed at the hikers and forcing them back. I took an alternate non-trailed route inbound and that was OK. Out-bound, the cattle moved to cover more of the trail and I had to parallel the trail more to avoid them. Don't ask me what I would of done if the bull had come at me, especially out in the open.

Anyhow, all was well, though when departing on the trail, I got some close-behind gangstalkers, who just "happened" to finish their putzing around at their vehicle just when I was setting off. Even with a 15lb backpack, including a light weight cot, I outpaced them. But no ordinary vehicle they had, but one of those wretchedly underpowered VW Vanegons, a Westphalia (camperized version). And with prior exposure to;, before getting to the trail head, only 100m ahead, they put on two of them passing by on the highway. Then lo, another one in the parking lot, from which my tailing gangstalkers emanated. Although there isn't many VW campers (and vans) around, they are still very popular among the gangstalking community as the engine sits in the rear, behind the rear wheels and would rotate the opposite direction as viewed from the rear to normally configured vehicles. As a former owner of a VW van, I came to detest this underpowered vehicle, its handling and maintenance hassles. That the perp-abetting wife was so keen on them despite my severe objections gives me a more jaundiced perspective on what that was all about.

Yesterday, another obvious gangstalking stunt; the lead-ahead vehicle heading to the bank ATM after hours. Like WTF; I haven't had these more obvious gangstalkings since about 2012 when I moved from that gangstalk shithole, Victoria BC, to where I presently live.

A 10 album download evening last night, which includes cleaning up the files and metadata, no mean feat. That I hadn't downloaded an album for 3 months is baffling, given my interest in music. On top of that, I have four CD's I haven't cracked for a month for some curious reason. Normally I get right onto them, hear them out, and then copy the files to my music disc library. Funny how I get these spates of protracted inaction in the face of what I usually do.

Tomorrow, the ex, my daughter and mother are getting on a aircraft tomorrow and heading to Iceland on a guided tour for a week. My perp-abetting mother was the instigator in all of this, even if she cannot walk far. To the point that she is covering the tab even. A trip that they also made four years ago was to Ottawa, Montreal, NYC, and Washington DC. As to what those four cities mean to my perp-abetting mother I have no idea. I consign all of their trips to ongoing perp direction, they all being surrogates for me, given the perps' compelling interest in geographic locations, and certain cities of iniquity. (That is, nonconsensual human experimentation of children was undertaken in the Ottawa, Montreal and Washington DC). Only Montreal is known to me personally, but as mentioned many times, the perps wiped my recall when aged 2 to 5, so I may have other geographic residencies than what I know of, and for perp directed nefarious purposes.

Enough said for the week, and onto another.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Are Shrinks Shills?

By way of the title, I am engaging in some speculation here, and no, I don't want to hear about a paranoia diagnosis by way of these idle reflections.

But I have my reasons; that is, I "happened" to be working with someone at my employer of 2012-14, who started there a month ago. I was there because my regular employer didn't need me for a week, the second time in three weeks. And it so "happened" that this guy was ADD (or ADHD), a hyperactive one, and likely never to get out of that problematic behavioral rut and get a decent job unfortunately. A moderate to serious case, and he doesn't take any medications at the moment. But as it so "happened" he visited the same outrageous quack that I did, in late summer of 2017, and I saw this same quack-doctor, in 10-2017. That I came in with quantifiable data, a brain scan and a dopamine test, and got totally shanked and obstructed was detailed in a prior blog posting. I recently launched a missive back via RateMD and excoriated the quack, though I could see I wasn't the first.

Anyhow, this co-worker of a week at my former full time employer also got rebuffed for any kind of ADD diagnosis and got nowhere with this same mofo-doctor. Said doctor didn't even ask any diagnostic questions as to whether this patient actually had ADD (or ADHD). Which begs the question; what is this doctor playing at? Is he selecting for certain patient types so he can pass them onto drug testing trials for money, or has he a particular bias in not treating ADD? And assuming this co-worker is not a TI, then just why is it that he got turned around with no medication treatment, when in my opinion, he needs it. Or, are shrinks lined up with the Thems, who decide in advance who gets treated adequately or not? I don't know, but in my experience (though a TI where everything seems to be arranged in advance), if there ever was an aberrant cadre of mendacious (mostly, not all), fools in the medical profession, it is the psychiatric practitioners. And yes, I need a larger sample set of others getting similar results from other doctors for this to be any more than speculation. Hold the diagnoses please.

But we do know that psychiatry has had its history of protected outrageous criminality; a case that still sits in my craw, and may have some personal intrusion in my life when I Iived in Montreal as a child aged 2-3 y.o, and then 4-5 y.o., is that of the infamous Dr Ewen Cameron (27pp) of Montreal's McGill University. That he brain trashed patients using no researched protocol from the 1940's-1960s is on the public record. Not widely acknowledged is that he also worked on children (for some curious reason), which included an orphanage in the basement. These would be children of the Duplessis Orphans, another contemporary chapter of infamy in Canadian history. And suplying his "patients", uniformed experimental subjects more like, LSD in the 1950's, presumably getting his supply from the same outfit that he got his funding, Crooks In Action.

A rainy start to the day, hence starting an hour later than normal. The perps like to change up start times for regular gigs, and probably not just for me either. Those epic traffic jams, rapid transit problems etc. forcing people to be late for work just might not be all that random as one thinks.

Vineyard work in two locations today; de-suckering, move vineyards, then weeding and hoeing the row, the three of us, one being the part time woman who is pretty, though she doesn't flaunt it, and is rather shy. Or at least, is adverse to making much contact with me, but seems more comfortable with the boss man.

A whole day of de-suckering, as in bending over and cutting off those shoots coming from the trunk. Additionally, there are old stubs where former workers of past years didn't cut them flush to the trunk for some reason, and are perfect harbor for more suckers. Some even were missed, as there are 2'+ of canes running along the ground. This would be a big problem if they used herbicide, but at this vineyard they don't as it is organic.

Then a two hour nap attack this evening after reading, which immediately followed when getting back home. This perp need to render me into a sleep state after reading for say, 30 min., has been prevalent all these past 4 months. They even nailed me with a nap attack on Monday this week, but only for an hour (unusually short) so I could make yoga in time. How thoughtful of them.

As is often the case, listening to music on my headphones got interfered with; the boss man was banging on steel posts, the tractor wasn't far away, the rain came on, and then by the afternoon, I didn't have my audio gear at hand when the weather cleared up. No music listening goes according to plan; interruption with noise or even obstructing it for a time is given. And I suspect the reason is that listening to music creates dopamine, and if there is one consistent theme in this 16 years of abusive insanity, it is the perp's need to regulate this vital hormone and neurotransmitter. It isn't enough that I am ADD (low dopamine situation); I have to be fucked with all the more and up and down regulated per Psychopathic Nonconsensual Human Experimentation plan. And any and all treatment (e.g shrink visit) must be blocked or thwarted. Thanks a fucking bunch assholes.

An some strange dreams last night; the ML person was featured in them, something they haven't done in the 16 years of this assault. Yes, I might get 200+ planted images or interactions per day of this person, though we have never met, (though seen once live on a hiking trail of all places), but never until last night did this person show up in my dreams. I have had the most strangest dream invasions since this show began 04-2002, from long past IT personnel, from IT projects that I was never on, and many other characters for whom I have no idea why they would show up 20-30 years later. But last night crossed a new psychic threshold in terms of inserting this person into my existence.

Saturday, and working at the 2012-14 employer to help out. I thought I would resume work on his tasting room landscaping, but instead, worked with the ADHD guy on trellis wires and irrigation repair.

Sunday, and another day of work to keep the employer's winery ambitions going. Even my co-workers agree he should just stick to grape growing and make enough wine for himself, instead of attempting to go into commercial wine making. Long on vision, and short on specifics is the short summary. But as one co-worker (of a different employer) opined, "I'm just the clown, not the cowboy".

And two days of unrelenting sunshine, and another two to go, per forecast. Out with the shorts, and to get some on-job tanning done. Though I find it most curious that I am not getting as brown skinned as fast I was last year. Normally the perps in their sunlight related games have me get a tan, and then (seemingly) have the weather be cloudy to prevent immediate follow-on tanning. Given that it is mid-May, perhaps they are aren't yet into full on sunlight exposure games with the usual litany of on-off tanning opportunities, especially when it comes to weekends.

Enough of the show for a week, and onto another.

Sunday, May 06, 2018

Skipping a Week

And what is happening such that a general malaise is encroaching enough to cause me to be indifferent to not posting for a week? I don't know, but it doesn't look good, and who knows where its going. In other words, I am getting ground down, dullified and nullified as I see it. Or are the perps backing off to some extent?

I am planting lavender plants this week at a tasting room renovation, that of my employer of 2012-14. The regular vineyard employer dropped me this week, citing that they are "all caught up". Give me a break; as the only regular employee for 22 acres of vineyard, having had an extra guy (thankfully, or else we wouldn't be caught up) for the last two months, I find this fatuous at best. Yes, there is a slack time between tying down and waiting for the new  shoots to get to the first tucking wire, but there is always something to do on a vineyard. How about removing those thousands of useless stakes that have been there for 10 years? Anyhow, I live in such a managed bullshit show I have long given up on anyone articulating the truth. Even one TI whom I respect, and is the real thing, stopped talking to me a few years ago as I "wasn't activist enough". Expect me to believe that? Or did she expect me to join the 9/11 truth activists for some obscure reason? You know, join a bigger parade, and somehow expect legitimacy from it.

But there is something about planting plants the perps seem to like me to do, and I have no idea why. Planting vines has been common since 2012 when I started the vineyard work, and I have planted some vines somewhere every year. Maybe there is some psychic energy transference they have deemed to be, and expect me to be the bellwether for its' detection. I don't care, and all I want is to be left alone. Of interest, the above mentioned "extra guy" is going tree planting this week until mid-July when he has a lay-off before going tree spacing. Hardly a coincidence, but he has been a great help in getting our vineyard work done just before bud break. So while he is tree planting some 200 miles away, I am planting lavender plants for a tasting room landscaping display.

And a rare Monday off yesterday, and a visit to the specialty grocery store where I haven't been for 4 weeks, when I was once a 2x/week customer. The store is getting transformed as part of a larger chain, and nearly everything is getting moved around to great confusion. They have almost finished their renovations, and have succeeded in nixing the one product I would go there for, cooked free-run chicken. Well done, so to speak.

At this specialty grocery store they had the obligatory "just standing there" stalker outside, with the cell phone gazing feint. Immediately beforehand I had dropped off my glass recyclables at the depot, and there were six Ford Escapes in the short two blocks. Which is my ride since 2017 when my mother gave her vehicle to me. All were the same body design, before Ford gave it the squished rear look, following Nissan's design folly for some reason.

They must of had a least 15 helicopters covering me on my 4 outings over the day, and they even put on my vineyard co-worker of 2012 in a rare appearance. Not that she said hello, but was there at the grocery store checkout in the adjacent checkout line, while the fart in front of me fucked up and had to run back to the aisles to get some product that could be scanned so he could get his coupon cashed. (Checkout disruptions are very common since all this came down in 04-2002). It seemed hokey to me, even if a long time coupon avoider. But as the perps like to hound my ass over financial transactions, having someone pay with a coupon instead of a debit card is endlessly fascinating for them, even after 16 years of intense overt abuse on top of 47 years of surreptitiously hounding my ass with the regular involvement of family, employers and all others it seems in retrospect.

Said former female vineyard co-worker of 2012 also did a one-time cameo appearance at yoga after she came back from a year at the University of Chicago. We were instructed to get blocks at one corner of the room before class started, and there she was sitting on the floor behind a pillar with all the class milling around her, retrieving these brown cork blocks. I said "hi", and she returned the greeting, and then I asked her how Chicago was (that is, a 10 month Master degree program), and she gave me a grim "fine", and that was the end of our "happen-chance" encounter. And while I saw her out jogging once in the neighborhood of the same employer (near where she lives), I hadn't seen her in person since the 2014 yoga class. When the perps pull these "coincidences", I take this to be a meaningful and concerted event for them.

I suppose shuttling me between employers has also been advantageous for the perps, especially a former three year employer. I worked the weekend with their high school replacement (and gave her a ride home both days), and worked today and the rest of this week with one other new employee. I suppose it is all about getting to meet, and work with, the current employees, while I am a former employee of three years, 2012-2014. No wonder the owner laid me off for no reason in late 2014; all to enact these reprise games with my successors at the same job site. And why has it taken another four years for this to go down? Sounds like the perps have a long running plan, and don't give a shit about when it gets to fruition.

And yoga was another tattoo show; this woman with horrendous and dense tattoos down her arm was on my L side two mats away, and the late arriving only other dude "happened" to settle down within 2' of me when he could of moved to more open space 6' away. That he wore a shirt that was of the same fugly tattoo colors didn't go unnoticed. If I hate the sight of tattoos, why in the fuck do I have a multi-billion dollar budgeted organization pulling this around me? And why are tattoos so featured on celebrities these days?

And why are my dreams so invaded of late? Very detailed dreams of being on a navy ship of some kind with narrow passage ways, ladders and hatches etc. Then another night, some kind of IT dream, unrelated to my prior career they fucked me out of, and again, it was very specific as to the details. I just don't know where these are coming from in conventional terms.

Another evening time nap attack, some two hours worth, leaving me in a wiped out state for another half hour, and upon awakening, dealing with the infernal leg cramps I have been getting for the last two years. Then onto the SOF supermarket, and even if a low traffic evening, the assholes were all over me. Headlights on me in the parking lot for when I exited my vehicle, then an Asian stalker looking at his cell phone while walking ahead of me and then stopping at the entrance. Entering SOF is a big deal, and I get no end of criss-crossing Fuckwits there. Then more coverage in the store, the obvious tag-team shit. Three or four of them taking turns, and lo, one gets to accompany me at the checkout.

Another day of planting lavender in landscape fabric, this heavy duty plastic woven weed protection cloth some 4' wide. My co-worker of the last three days is ADD, and we have many discussions over this topic. And as it "happens", he also saw the same outrageous quack I did back in 10-2017, and to a similar pointless outcome. The question of late is do I roast the shit out of that quack on Rate MD, now having written up a concise and pithy summary of that inglorious and futile visit. Which really begs the question; why did the perps send me to this fucking asshole; for an exercise in futility, to yet again make the point of interfering with my medical care, or just as a plain disruptive stunt?

Another 2 hour nap attack this evening: I "thought" I could pull it together after an hour, but suffered a reprise wipe-out such that I could not get up, and instead, it became a two hour event. And although I have finished the book "Selected by Extraterrestrials" by William Tompkins, the nap attacks have a similar pattern. I am now reading "In Denial; Historians, Communism and Espionage" by Haynes and Klehr, a well researched book and scathing indictment of the socialist ("Old Left" and communism) promoters and historians who fronted for this "ism" in spite of the mass murderous habits of Lenin and Stalin, and feigned surprise when Nikita Kruschev made the (general) homicidal habits of Stalin known to the world in 1956. And still these "activist"or "radical" historians continued to dress up, obfuscate, deny, apologize and otherwise avoiding the re-evaluations of the motives of the Soviet empire and the concomitant human tragedy and wrapped their perfidious and devious analysis in the usual "see no evil" ideological rationalizations. The book indicates that 20 million people were killed under Stalin's reign of terror, and that does not include WWII when another 30 million Soviets were killed. I just find it appalling that we have the historians who just don't get it, and continue to dress up the murderous pig that was the Soviet state of 1920-1954. The Russian repressive ways aren't yet over, but to simply deny such historic atrocities makes them culpable, even if they lounge in cushy academic jobs in North America. Or sit around drawing pensions thereof.

Furthermore, it just appalls me that this apologist mentality, in the face of long running and horrendous state sponsored mass murder, even exists in the human psyche, never mind among ostensibly responsible and analytical academics who write this up in their political journals. But I suppose, the equally murderous regime of Pol Pot in Cambodia (CIA sponsored apparently) was another, though shorter example, where our supposed media just plain failed (somehow) to report on this in any timely way. It makes me wonder if the media isn't just some kind of manipulated shit show, where some massacres get to run for longer, and others don't. Another example is Rwanda, where it was plain that the UN was willfully dragging their ass on on connecting with the reality as reported on the ground, which was extensively reported by Romeo Dallaire in his book "Shake Hands with the Devil". So just who is deciding on human massacre reportage anyhow? Never mind for the moment as to the genesis of this awfulness, or that its incipient stages just never get stopped.

And continuing the ongoing book reading interference, the perp assholes had me lose my page before I got reading again, and I had to resume from a point in the book that I remembered. In other words, forced re-reading is just hilarious to the sick asses that run this show. And too, my viticulture worker friend (always a circumspect term), a former co-worker, phoned just before my butt hit the seat to start reading this book.

My daughter gave me a few days notice that she was running in a marathon in Oregon this past weekend. She never communicates much, and this bullshit started about six months before the Fuckover, when the perps first went berserk/overt in 04-2002. Whatever; I was glad for any contact, and I did track her race progress via an app on my phone that day, while working. I sent her a congratulatory text when her finish was confirmed by the race app. (A 9:47 pace for crissakes). Two days later, I get an email from the ex with attached pictures at the event, boyfriend there too. Obviously I wasn't invited, as I would of got months of advance notice, but that is how the perps manage my relationship with my only child. I note for the first time that my ex's new married surname is "Johns", a rather ironic twist that simply cannot be coincidence. It is the same name as her son, as it is mine, and so in plural form, her new married surname suggests both of us. Who scripts this ridiculousness? Not that I am up on her relationship life in any way, but as it seems, it was a 3 year run-up before she got married, to someone (whom I first met at my perp abetting mother's place in 01-2015) who has this ironic surname, and of course, is appropriate long-term relationship (and age matched) material for her. Unbelievable to me, and way off the coincidence meter IMHO. As in "hammering the peg", where on analog meters of old, the minimum and maximum ranges on the gauge had a small projecting metal peg to stop the needle on the meter dial from physically heading into a range beyond the instrument's analytical capability.

And why are the masers now more prevalent than "normal"; these floating wispy or sporadic black or greyish blobs, dots etc. that keep showing up in my vision, even as I type this. Most often I divert my gaze, only to have them re-establish within a few seconds. Or else I look at something completely different and they set up again. And the masers have a phenomenal ability to track the very words on the page, exactly where I am looking. It was especially notable today when I was reading a book outside on the first sunny day off this year. Well done abuse I say. Now just fuck off; after 16 years of this utterly insane shit, still no let up.

Working on the lavender planting for the employer's tasting room today. My co-worker is one of those contrary workers; he seems to fuck off with the tools I need, be in the wrong place, or otherwise inadvertently slow up the job. Interestingly though, he went to the same shrink I did in around the same time, fall-2017, and got nowhere with his ADD treatment, same result as me. He also thought the fucker was nuts, as did I. So... is this shrink turning away ADD patients for his own purposes to get more the patients he wants, possibly so he can pass them onto drug testing outfits, or is this part of a concerted but covert initiative to obstruct ADD patients? I don't know or care; the net outcome is the same; I and he both got screwed by the same asshole with the same complaint.

A Saturday, and a rare day off as I have been going nearly non-stop for 7 weeks. A haircut, and then a leg wax were scheduled, and then onto the Ford dealership to get the summer tires on. And summer has broke finally, and so the spandex shorts come out. I even got a little tanning done in the backyard, though the perps can "fix" this by having the landlord spray 2-4D on the lawn, and the awful off-gassing pong goes on for three weeks. Two years ago the landlord told me in advance, though last year they didn't at all for some curious reason.

Sunday, I worked with my vineyard friend (sort of) and another guy, and finished pruning after five hours. It became sunny, and I later tanned some. I also got to attend to my laundry after yesterday's forced forget when I had all evening to do so. Perhaps the perps wanted to send me to the other laundromat and get stalked by the fat dude who seemed to be so restless and just had to stalk my ass. And lo, he concluded my putting his laundry in the dryer next to mine for crissakes. Have I mentioned that laundry is a big perp harassment theme, and it plain doesn't matter what detergent, what combination of clothes or washers and dryers I use, there is always more combinations and permutations for them to test.

And why am I getting rendered to be so grumpy of late? Added into the mix are more things going wrong, but for some reason the assholes are turning up the heat. Adding to the piss-offs too, is more forced "forgets", and over regular things I do and somehow forget for the first time. It is just plain infuriating, now more than ever. Perhaps this whole deal is to force a new round of supplements and medications, another rich testing theme for the Thems.

Anyhow, I should get this posted for the two weeks that it has been.

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Sixteen Years On

Yesterday marks the 16th anniversary of the Psychopaths going berserk/overt on me, and turned my life into a harried existence of abuse, clinical care obstruction and re-direction, and last, but not least, the infernal gangstalking that plagues me everywhere. And stares too; just what is it that everyone knows about me in advance, or in the present, that causes them to stare and also be so hesitant, and if not, scared shitless? I have no idea, but it still continues all the time.

Also came the relentless fuckery over being able to control anything in my life; my fingers cannot operate in the manner I direct them, an abuse method that has increased of late to great vexation, as if 16 years of this shit wasn't enough.

So who were those assholes who ransacked my apartment on the eve of this atrocity, not seeming to want to find anything, but yet moved clothes in the closets, left drawers partially open etc.? There wasn't anything illegal there, or even close to it.

The apartment invasion with all manner of high tech and highly unconventional weapons was on a Monday then. I had seen Ms. C on Saturday night, who tipped off this episode with at least three "that wasn't supposed to happen" statements that evening I visited her at her place. One was with respect to someone modifying the front end of my vehicle to fix it seemingly, even though the garage had affirmed it to be OK a few days earlier, but it still has some peculiarities, though safe.

I was obviously tailed by these dudes at the 24 Hour Fitness that Sunday night, one seeming to have a peacemaker on his person at 0200h while running on the treadmill. So when the invasion came Monday, I had fallen asleep on my floor, and six men were carrying me into my apartment. I seemed to fall asleep some more, and then was treated to a barrage of noise, simulating a dogs barking and being inside a cage, I was beamed with brown plasma beams that immediately caused me to collapse on the floor and not be able to get up, though awake, there were masers, in the form of flies that would buzz around and come at each other and cross paths, and a normal steel screwdriver that bent like spagetti in my hands without any obvious conventional manipulation such as heat. There were AA batteries that would roll in on the carpeted floor, appearing from nowhere, powered by some unseen force. I could go on at length, but you can read it in the The Story (27pp). So just what is it that the Psychopaths/perps want to know and why cannot they just show up and have me cooperate instead of 16 years of hell on earth? I don't know, but that particular method/approach is also attributable to the extraterrestrials. And of course, I was given a full involvement treatment as to some of their methods on that fateful day of harassment onset (aka, perps going berserk/overt).

And so all that bullshit is over.... Being planted with planted notions, 100's of times per day for four months, that this relentless and senseless barrage of hostilities would suddenly end on this 16th anniversary. As mentioned in prior posts, I have been through this before, and didn't believe any of it. These assholes just don't give up.

Monday, and yoga; the choreographed proximity show never ends, never mind the curious rotation of other yogis. Today.a new dude next to me seemed like he has never been to yoga before. The woman in front of me had a serious tattoo problem down her bare arms, and was the "blocking agent", as I had to see past her to the instructor who is less than fully explanative. On the other side of this "blocking agent" was an attractive young blonde girl. though, the most watchable female was off to my left, and I had to look past the adjacent dude to view her. I cannot count the times they put the "fuglies", aka, Unfavored specimens next to me and I am forced to view past this individual to see someone more attractive. Today was more obvious as they placed two people in my usual mat location, who were the only ones to arrive before me, and thereby forcing me in the back row and having to look past the tat-act.

They put another dude in the back, whom I did not know was there, and who revealed himself during class by heading to the front to retrieve a block. He of wild afro-like hair do, this large mound of curly wool on his head was peculiar, as he was Caucasian.

The post class lobby gangstalking rotation was equally predictable; place the watched blonde babe to my R, 10' away to stand there talking for 3-5 minutes, and then swap in an Unfavored specimen to stand in exactly the same spot. This time it was the afro-headed male, while my adjacent mat male "happened" to sit next to me on the couch while I changed into my footwear.

Tying down vines today, a hailstorm came up for 10 minutes, making for cold wet vines for a following 20 minutes, and of course, cold bare hands. Later, some ladder work helping the owner get to some ornamental vines. Here we are 3 weeks late getting the vines tied down and another interruption. Yesterday, an interruption due to cold wet weather, so we stained boards for two hours inside and cleaned out the tasting room below...

A 2.5 hour nap attack in the evening; again the timing was following book reading. Again, no sleep deficit to warrant such an extraordinary sleep. I am reading "Selected by Extraterrestrials" by William Mills Tompkins, an engineer with expereince in the 1960's on rocket designs with the Navy and the RAND think tank. They also had to deal with extraterrestrial "issues" like remote invasion and sabotage of electronics. And in fact, the extraterrestrial interventions were such that there were serious delays in their rocket testing program.

Tying vines today, getting a full day of it done. I listened to my portable digital audio player, and it just seems after observation over the years, that the perps don't want me to have a full day of such unless there are prior interventions to shorten my listening time before they allow me a full day. I suspect the above mentioned disruptions of getting this job done served that purpose. Though it is curious as to why they don't just draw the battery down at the appropriate moment to force a music listening shutdown, as I have experienced this stunt before. But it seems they want conventional causes for interruption and disruption of late.

I was heading out the gate with the co-worker to drop him off, and these two bandy legged males, one in fugly shorts were there on a putative dog walking exercise. I find this most curious on a week day in this semi rural area, and why don't they have day jobs.

A 1.75 hour nap attack, again post book reading. and again, no sleep deficit.

Motorcycle noise at work, the horrid HD noise; this mofo went up and down the adjacent street 3x, twice within 1 min. Now with warmer weather, the HD motorcycles are out; if not on being parked in obvious places, but it is that infernal running noise I just cannot stand.

The vine tying is done, and my fingers are raw from this exercise of the past 4 weeks. This week I am at the employer of 2012-14, helping them to get caught up.

For the rest of the day, some 6 hours, I spent it unpacking a shipping container on the property that was full of the owners former grease cleaning business materiel. More of the greasy, smelly stuff again, and I have done this at least twice before when working there.

Another 2 hour nap attack, after work and reading, all in keeping with what has been "happening" for the last two weeks. I read a little (always when I come back from vineyard work), eat a little, and then after 20 minutes, a need to nap comes over and I cannot fight this, and so lie down, and get nailed for 2+ hours of napping. Which leaves me with "split shift sleeping"; two hours in the evening (always after reading, as mentioned), and then 5-6 hours overnight. Even if I go to bed at say, 2200h for a 8 hour sleep, they will keep me up for two hours to shorten up the night time sleeping duration.

Yesterday was an exception from the regular nap attack routine; I did laundry at the laundromat, and escaped the evening time nap attack, and got to bed at a reasonable hour, and was hoping to break the pattern, but no such luck for the next day.

Enough of this for a week, and to get this posted.

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Two Hundred Thousand Page Views

"Page views all time history 200,072" says the statistics banner, and mine aren't counted in the total. I suppose that is a decent milestone for being a schmo at the butt end of an X-Files episode gone wrong for nearly 16 years. I have called it an abuse-athon, a relentless and senseless stream of covertly applied harassment and abuse for human nonconsensual experimentation purposes. Never mind that everyone else in my proximity seems to know, or be in on it, given the strange glances (and sometimes stares) I routinely get. And too, public behavior of others gets weird sometimes. And that I am kept in a densified magnetic field, first measured at 180-200 Gauss in late 2002, then 1800 Gauss sometime in 2008-09 on another (seeming) victim's equipment. In the first instance I rented industrial level equipment and spent many hours measuring, and I lived 12 stories up at the time.

Vineyard work, still tying vines down, and is going slower for some reason. lt was 1.5 hours per row, all rows the same length, and yet it was taking longer. At first I got 6 rows per day, then five, and even 4.5 one day. The perps like these productivity variance games, and I don't know how they do it. I suspect they interfere with one's sense of the passage of time as well as one's abilities to notice what one is doing. It seemed like one row was the same as the next and there was no substantial difference in between them.

Bottling wine today, though it was the same bottles we filled back in mid-March, but the labeling machine wasn't working. Then, the bottles got filled and then temporarily cased. And today, we finished the job, as the labeler machine was now repaired, and so the filled bottles went through the line, bypassing the cleaning, filling and capping machines, and went to the labeler machine. (I was informed today that a power spike caused the labeler's sensor's to fail back in March- we  know who can arrange that within a moment's notice, don't we?) Then the bottles came back around in the conveyor belt inside this mobile 40' trailer and we placed them in cases again. Quite a foorfaraw [n. a great fuss or disturbance about something very insignificant] to arrange a second time around for 3,000 bottles, but the perps and their unwavering obsession over having me involved in winemaking (and drinking wine to a lesser extent), are up to the task. And too, going back further in the chain, they have had me on viticulture laboring work for over six years now. And still they keep selling the idea that all this abuse will cease by next week on the sixteenth anniversary of this relentless atrocity. I am not buying it.

The bottling line, production line, working in close proximity with others, having a system that gets interrupted, and disrupted and perturbed through the conveyor system. The perps cannot get enough of this either, and I suspect it plays into their interest in dithering my perception of production rate as well as the innate learning of adapting to new situations.

A chilly and cloudy day of vineyard work today; thank goodness for my insulated ski jacket, even if the seams are strangely wearing out. Attempts to get a ski jacket in this off-season have turned to naught; one jacket I ordered was too small, and the return process was so ridiculous and fraught with "talking past me" support that I gave up. Sometimes one does wonder if a real person is at the other end of the "support" desk. When the support person gets the context and my intention blatantly wrong in 2 of 2 emails, one has to wonder if they are really human, or is it an automated reply with a person's name tacked on. And the perps would get no end of mileage out of that; thinking one was corresponding with a real person when it was a machine.

Yesterday was a nicer day in the vineyard, and I managed to replace the ski jacket for fleece vest, though the wind picked up later and I was glad for my toque.

Warm enough to have morning coffee break and then lunch outside at the winery picnic table. But I see the perps are up to their usual seat shuffling games again. I have sat at the S seat some 4x in the last two weeks when the weather has been cooperative. It is the most convenient and accessible seat, so one naturally gravitates there. This time, someone's papers were placed at that seat at coffee, and later at lunch, the boss lady was seated at the S seat on her phone, speaking in French. So I sat in the N seat next to the stainless steel clad winery equipment. Not a big deal, though I was pinched in some. These forced seat shuffling games go on all the time, and it just slays me as to why some deranged limitless budgeted agency has to force me to sit in different places at the same table all the time.

And still the financial transaction stalking games continue; tonight at SOF at the self checkouts, I saw my regular place had someone's groceries still there, bagged and paid for, with a banana hanging out of the bag. I go to the next one, and a few minutes later this woman with a backpack comes by, picks up the bag and starts eating the banana. And how many times has this banana stalking erupted in my presence? Too many to count. Then this woman starts gabbing to the checkout supervisor, and situates herself right behind me as I came to learn. She was close enough that I backed into her backpack, which caused me momentary imbalance. Said woman/stalker pretended to not notice in true perp fashion, and kept talking to the checkout attendant. And kept talking while all my groceries were checked. At one point I needed to call the checkout attendant over as the self-checkout glitched out, and she didn't know why. She fixed it, and the stalker woman kept jabbering away. Then my cell phone in my jacket rang, but I ignored it as I have experienced these "checkout calls" before, usually a telemarketer. I finished up by paying, (a financial transaction note), and then the two women closed in on me. The checkout attendant gathered up the empty basket right away, and the stalker woman came at me while still eating her banana. Then at one point, she picked up a newspaper and had it open, and then started talking to me (reading from it?) as I was gathering up my grocery bags. I ignored her and headed out. And what is so important about making a financial transaction that this batshit-wacko woman has to loiter around and push her backpack into my back all the while? (You know, the backing into me stunt, aka, "accidentally" on purpose). As the perps have been totally obsessed with this particular activity of making a financial transaction for close to 16 years, and presumably the prior 47 years before they went berserk/overt in 04-02002, this particular stunt wasn't out of the ordinary.

And I suppose, it was all the better that I had gone for a tan just before, and I was "lit up", or otherwise energized in some way that is advantageous for them.

I worked 9.5 hours this Saturday to finish the cane tying in the vineyard. Finally, the 4.5 acres is tied down, and so one can rest easy for a month or so. It was warmer today thankfully, unlike yesterday which was awful cold. My fingers are hacked up from the tie wire, and in addition they nailed my L thumb nail for 2 hours of minor bleeding. I was detecting a dogshit smell, and as the perps are fond of having step into such while in the vineyard, I checked the underside of my boots, and in doing so, broke my L nail. No dogshit attack as it turned out; which goes to show one how they can spook victims with fake smells. Nothing new there.

The big day came and went to a Very Big Nothing; this is the 16th anniversary of when they invaded my life in their berserk/overt assault that hasn't let up. (More in the next posting). And no cessation of hostilities either. My fingers are cut and aching from tying down, and still they run them into objects exactly where the hurt is. Including after work at the checkout at the supermarket. So... after four months of telling me this whole relentless 16 year long abuse-athon would end, sometimes 100+ times a day, nothing happens.

Sometimes I ponder how they will end this abuse-athon, and there are always a few likely considerations. Will it be an epic nonconventional assault like 16 years ago, or a soft slide into obscurity, possibly with imposed old age conditions? My vote is with the latter; they seem to revel in dopamine deficiency related issues, a hallmark of old age.

Today I went to my former employer of 2012-14 and helped them on their vine tie-downs. There are two others who work there, but in this ongoing game of rotating those in my proximity, both were away. And four clothing changes today; at first my heavy weather (yachting) rain coat which I have worn once in six years of vineyard work (or anywhere else), then the rain backed off so I wore my regular black ski jacket, then it got sunny so I wore my blue fleece vest, and then it got cold again (and wet for the last 10 minutes) so I reverted to the ski jacket again. I know, it sounds like a very dull account for a spring day, but the perps have an inordinate interest in what clothing colors and fabrics I wear.

Anyhow, enough for a posting and onto recovering from the 2.5 hour nap attack I got nailed with this evening.

Sunday, April 08, 2018

Read Some, Sleep Plenty

I read some more of the "Venona Secrets", a book about the players and spies who were uncovered by a three year security lapse that allowed some of the USSR diplomatic transmission codes to be decoded, though not all of them. Each day after work I pick it up and after 10 -20 minutes of reading, I either fall asleep in my chair, or else get hit with a nap attack. Let me be clear, if you have any interest in spy activity in the last 60 years, especially with respect to WWII and the Cold War, this is a fascinating read. And all the more illustrative of how personal politics was married to political treason, even at the senior influence level of FDR's cabinet.

Today, I got hit with a 2.5 nap attack after reading this book for 15 minutes, which is in keeping with the perps hitting me with nap attacks after starting a new book. I got this book a week ago, as a result of having a long standing interest in all things clandestine, doubtless a perp managed interest since their covert influencing has been apparent (in hindsight) since perhaps the days I learned to read, or even from birth. And as usual, I was no in a sleep deficit situation, so I have no idea as to why I needed so much sleep. And too, this seemed to be strategic as I missed my yoga class some 4 blocks away. Well done assholes.

Back in 2012, after taking a 3 month viticulture course, I purchased a used viticulture book which is a classic of the discipline. I read some 30 pages and then got nailed for a 5 hour nap attack (all time nap attack duration) immediately afterward, in mid afternoon. As usual, I was not running a sleep deficit, so I can only assume this was remotely invoked, something they can do with singular ease I have come to find in nearly 16 years of this overt invasion since 04-2002.

As to why nap attacks are scripted immediately following reading a new book I have no idea, though the planted notion is about "channeling the author", or some kind of psychic interaction with the author while reading their work. (They also like me to read biographies). Well perhaps, and all the more interesting for the perps that some authors are alive, some are long gone, and of course, combinations thereof with co-authors. The real deal is that I don't give a shit; I just want to be left alone, now, and for good. This basic and normal desire just isn't permitted with this ongoing tyranny of remotely invasive technologies and the psychopathic agenda that runs it. Call it in-situ nonconsensual human experimentation, though there have been plenty of experiences of other victims, (and putatively myself when aged 2 to 5, the memory deleted years), where they have been hauled into hospitals on flimsy rationales, and never to come out the same. The Duplessis Orphans is one example, and that occurred at the same time frame and in the same Canadian province when I lived in Montreal, Quebec during the above mentioned memory deleted years. And I am not the only one to experience this then at the same city.....

Another day of tying down vines in the vineyard, and a bitter cold it was, even if not freezing. My hands were plenty cold in the morning, and the perps laid of finger fumbling and finger freezing (imposed inaction) plenty enough to infuriate me, often near row ends in keeping with their long standing practice. I just cannot stand it when my finger control isn't my own; what the assholes get from dithering my finger control is beyond me, but any kind of frustrated action is just their cup of tea. All the better that it is sudden and unexpected. es. George Bush's attempting to open a locked door as a classic perp stunt, here on Youtube.

Another day of tiresome vine tying using wire and the Kuker tying device. My fingers are raw from this exercise and I have at least 4 acres to go. I went home at lunch time to go to the bathroom as the winery is locked as no one is there. I got the "usual" phalanx of  gangstalking vehicles around me anytime I go into town during my normal work day. (Insufficient warm clothes (getting caught out), doctor's appointments etc.) I even got the RCMP in two adjacent vehicles beside me at a stoplight, and of course, got the trains of oncoming vehicles to thwart my L turn, a perp classic. I reckon the traffic is worthy of a city 10x the size whenever I head out on these rare mid-work day sorties.

That wasn't all; the landscapers "happened" to be working around my place, and parked in my usual spot, in keeping with the parking games the perps like to stage.

Ditto the parking games first thing this morning: I roll into the winery parking lot, about 20 vehicle size, and there is a truck with two day-glos inside the cab, and the truck is blocking all the finished parking lot, and a red vehicle is parked exactly where I park my vehicle each morning this week. Like WTF; it turns out they were part of the road crew to direct traffic around the boom truck servicing the nearby power lines, yet again. This would be at least the sixth time this year at this location (Upper Bench Road), and counting. And we know who loves to place boom trucks around the victim, don't we? So this metallic deep red vehicle, a perp standard color for vehicle stalking, parked in my usual location all day. Like WTF; weren't they worried that their vehicle might get towed from private property when they had no business to be there? Not in perp organized hell it would seem, where impunity is de rigeur.

Rain today, and a cold rain, and a direct hit on those working outside needing fine motor control, such as us vineyard workers who are tying down the vines. My hands were very cold doing this work, and at break, after phoning the foreman, I went to the other vineyard to dig weeds. I warmed up doing this job, and too much as it unfolded, and sweated (or more like, was forced to sweat), so when the foreman took me off this after two hours, I got cold again. Well done; I wasn't allowed to be warm all day, even with sufficient clothing to resist it.

And what is it about weeding the perps don't like me to do for more than two hours or so? Last week, just when I thought I would be weeding for six hours, starting after the morning break, the boss man interrupts me after lunch and wants me on rock picking with the others. Lets be clear; the weeding at this vineyard is not onerous, and not nearly the effort it was last year at the prior vineyard. And it is a good way to stay warm in this cool spring.

And the strangest dreams of late; IT (my former vocation) related no less, after a forced (by this Psychopathic Fuckover) absence of nearly 16 years. One dream, I was developing requirements for additional reporting on totals and status of the work. Another, I was dealing with my former business manager boss. In fact, these specific details were 19 years ago for crissakes. Who has that (long ago) knowledge but me?

Saturday, and I chose to work at the 2012-14 employer to help him out as he is behind in getting his vineyard work done. He doesn't have any excuses, though many larger vineyards do, as the Mexican temporary visa workers have been delayed this year. None around yet, though I did see one two blocks from my place on the way home this evening. Exactly what he was doing in town, rather than being on a farm, was peculiar, though putting on the gangstalk strut comes to mind. And exactly why all the Mexican workers have been delayed is also rather odd; they have been doing this tax subsidized (yes!) program for 10 years in these here parts, and the paper work starts in November, the prior calendar year, so I have no idea as to why this slowdown has erupted. I am beginning to suspect that all visa and immigration offices are highly governed by the Psychopathic Confederacy, though to what end, besides brown skin color games, I have no idea.

I got hit with a 2 hour nap attack this evening; long enough to put a serious dent in my plans, as I had a recently acquired video to view. Said video is to replace the DVD that mysteriously locked up and won't get past this one particular frame, even if it worked fine for about 8x.

Today's vineyard work was ugly; the rain kept up until 1300h, and I was cold the rest of the day. I am doing tying down, which means no gloves to afford the fine motor skills needed to do the work. I have yet to understand why vineyards in these here parts don't make use of more automated devices. Expense perhaps, but the buds are now getting wooly, so there isn't time to lose.

And wonders of wonders; after 5 months of side effects from the radiotherapy on my prostate cancer that finished 12-2017, the bowel leaking issues did not occur today. I thought it would never end, but for today, one day's respite, and hopefully more. I did not want to do the gamma ray conformed beam radiation therapy as it has this side effect (among others), but not having $85kUSD sitting around to do proton beam therapy meant that I had to accept the public plan. Which to be fair, is quite good for cancer treatments, and the staff and equipment at Kelowna are top notch. I am still wearing an extra 10lb from the episode, but if the side effects improvement noted today continues, I will call it done.

RIP Oppo? Yes apparently (dated April 02, 2018); no more new product development. I find this absolutely astounding that they made some of the best audio gear at reasonable prices, and now they are ending all new production, only doing maintenance. There is something weird here; normally most business look to selling to someone else if they want to bail out, but not this time, just fading to black. Yes, I own an Oppo  BD 105D multi-disc player, and I bought it because I know that discs aren't going away, despite all the current streaming hype. One simply cannot find the content on streaming that exists on DVD or other discs. And besides, it looks after the audio side too, so my stereo and computer can play through the same sound system. This "feature" hasn't really dawned on most of the audio equipment world, and they are now bypassing discs and chasing the streaming features only. A dark day for audiophilia.

A day of vineyard work at the 2012-2014 employer, helping him out with his tardy vineyard work. It wasn't all the wretched tie-downs today; I helped the regular Albanian girl to get the water system up and running. That is, get the 4" water line running through the trees, near a creek, and get it secured so the water flows through. Back in 2014 when I attended to this, it took many weeks as the pipe had split and broken in places. A relative piece of cake today, but there may be surprises yet. The usual adage always goes in this state of escalated and imposed adversity; "it was too easy...".

Thankfully, none of the driving rain of yesterday, and it was even brightening up such that I felt comfortable with my headphones on and my DAP playing. This too, is a highly managed event, and the perps have a long and dedicated history of sabotaging music listening; either the player, its volume, song or artist selection or just plain killing it for no apparent reason. Though true to form, they put on a low flying A-Star helicopter fly over after about 30 minutes of listening. They like pounding aircraft noise through my headphones, often within the first hour of listening.

No such luck as a repeat on yesterday's one day of freedom from the effects of radiotherapy from prostate treatment that finished 12-2017. I knew at the time the assholes would exploit the side effects profile of this kind of treatment, and they did. Hence my attraction to proton beam therapy mentioned above. IMHO, all of this NEVER would of happened if the assholes hadn't intervened and obstructed my successful ADD treatment in 04-2002, which boosted my dopamine, which mediates one's immune system. Just to think, they had this one planned 15 years ago.

Which comes to mind; as of next weekend, it will be the 16th anniversary of their apartment invasion which kicked off this non-stop abuse-athon of hell. And as I see it, just one more week before this colossal 4 month bullshit stream of planted notions ceases. Said planted notions relate to their relentless mental intrusion indicated that they are going to cease hostilities. Every few years they put me through this, and this year they have gone on for much longer and with significantly greater intensity than ever before. To which I say; I will believe it when I see it, otherwise leave me the fuck alone.

And no indications that they are backing off either; I get non-stop masers around me, and they have even ramped it up to fake ants crawling on the walls etc, as this is the season they are out and visible. Another regular maser event is them passing a maser, a grayish blob of 4mm or so, through the toilet paper as it unrolls off the roll. The maser just sits there while successive sheets pass by. All too fascinating for sick minds, never mind the constant and abiding privacy invasion.

Another two hour nap attack after reading the Venona Files again, same as last night. The whole spy world scenario makes one's head spin as to the dedicated deception and perfidy that goes on with such relentless government direction, particularly the Soviet Union. And just to think, they owe their relative success to the weak minded fools that believed in their system, and ironically, capitalism (!). They stole atomic weapon secrets, missile proximity fuses, infra-red missile guidance targeting, neutron bomb diagram (Chinese), and so many other technologies from the West. And they started spying on foreign governments in 1920 for crissakes. And it is unlikely they have ever let up, even now.