Monday, August 13, 2018

Smokey Skies Again

Back to atmospheric smoke haze days again, but not as dense as last year. We have done this three years of the past six, and as the perps just love foggy or hazy conditions, I am not surprised. I suppose inhaling smoke particles could be part of their research agenda, but they also like to dampen the visual scene for whatever reason.

And if that wasn't annoyance enough, they have pulled the "sunscreen in the eye" stunt again, now twice in two days. I ran out of the usual kind, the the replacement sunscreen seems to be unusually more painful. This erupts near the day's end, forcing me often to drive with one eye open, ever serving their games as to what I see with one eye, versus the other. As to how the sunscreen somehow creeps up my face and gets in my eye, I have yet to find an answer, as I never, ever, put it on my forehead.

And what is with the perps being on the rag this morning when making breakfast at my residence? And this evening, after work, they are at it again. While at work in the vineyard they were relatively calm, and not riling me up so intensely. Just the "usual"; flipping items out of my hand, proprioception interference such that they ram my hand into something I would ordinarily miss, planting messes on my counter, sending me to the wrong kitchen cupboard or drawer etc. I must of yelled at them at least 15x for these transitory incursions this morning, but getting me pissed off once just isn't sufficient for them.

And more infuriation this evening, looking for a pair of safety glasses. I had two pairs, one of which was used this winter as ersatz ski goggles as it was so cold some days, but they too have gone missing. All part of my PPE for my job interview tomorrow morning.... as to why I didn't think this one through and get a new pair on the way home I have no fucking idea. I spent at least 1.5 hours going through all my tool and gear bags, but to no avail, though I did re-organize all this stuff I had long "forgot" that I had in each bag.

Friday, and my last day of vineyard work for 2018. Next week I start my construction job for two or three months. Hopefully all will go well, and I earn some decent money for once in the 16 years (and counting) of this harassment gig. The vineyard boss man even came around with a few beers and we chatted for 30 min. And we chatted about the same duration earlier at my lunch time.

Monday, and and a seven hour drive back from Bellevue WA to see the ADD doctor. Just when I thought I was getting all things ordered to re-start my ADD medications, he is taking me sideways, and wants a "sleep study", where one wears a headband with electrodes which is connected to a device to record the various wave types. I said it sounds expensive, because I would have to pay for it out of pocket, US prices. He said he professionally must conduct such a study for continuing care to cover the scrutiny he expects, being certified in three fields of medicine. He said he would forward a letter to my regular walk-in clinic (Canadian) doctors to request a referral, and I said that was fine. But if they don't buy into it, or blow this off with some kind of rejoinder like, "its just a CYA US healthcare demand", then it might be the last I see of the Bellevue doctor. Said Bellevue doctor, friendly last time, didn't seem so disposed today, and walked with a distinct limp and with a cane. I asked him about it, and he said he had old injuries flaring up. I sense he must of been in some pain, given his more terse style today. I just don't know what it is, but it seems that good doctors aren't allowed to last; that is, something comes up and I exit their care, entirely due to professional issues. Save my regular GP in 2003 (from 1980), who flat out said he didn't want to see me any more, invoking some BS excuse.

Last night at the hotel in Bellevue, there were some very loud arguments in Spanish coming from two doors down, and the hotel security came the second time and all was quiet after that.

And what was that dull glowing device on the ceiling in the hotel? It was in the center of the room, over the middle of the bed, about 8" square with a plastic panel and a dull white light glowing from it. It was wired from the hallway, with the covered wire raceway attached to the ceiling after running down the corner of the wall and ceiling. It wasn't a smoke detector or CO2 detector, as those were separate devices.

A seven hour drive today, and it was considerably more smokey today, from Snoqualmie Pass to Penticton. I see they had some big brush fires along I90 near W Columbia River gorge, with even guardrail posts burned to the ground in some places.  Some smaller ones along Hwy 97, N of Wenatchee too. In either case, if they had been raging during my trip, it would of been considerably more congested along any detour routes.

Yoga this evening, and lo, after some 3-5 yogis for the past four weeks, why, some 15 of them came for my class after today's seven hour drive. The weather hadn't changed much, and hot yoga on a hot day hadn't been a big seller until today. Perhaps it was the line of three dudes who just "needed" to take off their shirts for crissakes, back to that again. One being a E. Indian with dark brown skin, the last one to come into the practice room. As always, I haven't figured out the why and wherefore for these seeming arranged configurations of yogis; usually about 80% new, and 20% ones I recognize from past classes, even if the same class every Monday. One time they had dancers from a regular group come, and the instructor thanked "all those who came on short notice, especially you guys" (pointing to the dancers). They looked rather pained at being identified, as well as being associated with the apparent prior organization of the class members. Well, at least it has been confirmed once.

Anyhow, enough to get this posted for the week.

[A note to the TI person who left a comment, that requested it be deleted (not posted), which I did:

it is very possible you inadvertently mentioned in our conversation some items that are particular sore points with me from the initial intense harassment onset days (2002-3), when I was dealing with the succession of criminal doctors and the wretched First Feral Family, all spouting the same ridiculous nonsense that just didn't add up. And that your questions were entirely of  innocent origin and intent. (As is stepping in metaphoric "cow pies" that you didn't know were there). If so, I humbly apologize for my reactions as stated in my earlier blog posting. Yes, I do claim to be heavily mind controlled, and too, this all could of been yet another wedge driven between TI's, something that is quite common. Though this would be the first instance in my case. And please feel free to talk to me about it on the phone at your convenience.]

Sunday, August 05, 2018

The Perception Deception

I met a TI today with whom I have had phone contact for perhaps a year. She was stopping by on the way up north. We didn't see eye to eye on the phone, so to speak, but anyway, a seeming legitimate TI.

But just what is it about those I meet, who deny my experiences? The First Feral Family quislings were the first lot, and I roundly trounced them on the details, and all I got was silence, not any kind of further engagement, validation or further interest, let alone empathy as to this tyrannical abuse that I experienced then, somewhat less now. And now, I have met a TI, who suggested more than once in today's personal encounter, suggesting "perhaps it was your perception that ..x... occurred". NO, and NO fucking way. If a 10" square of stiff sheet mu metal crumpled up in my hand as I was holding a corner of it, unbidden by any action on my part, then that is exactly what fucking happened. End of tune. (I could not of crumpled it myself anyhow, even with two hands, because it was too stiff and I would of cut my fingers up). That I was challenged on at least four other unconventional events I experienced and conveyed, answered with the "perhaps it was your perception" line, leads me to think this meeting was one elaborate perp ruse. It is the same line as those wretched sick assed perfidious shills called psychiatrists use, and I am sick fed up of ANYONE telling me that my perceptions are different from my reality. And don't give me this holographic experience bunkum either. All this while the parade of noisy HD motorcycles transited past. Woo hoo.

Another annoyance coming from this TI was the sideways allusion to what I experience daily in the realm of plasma beams, and their repeating patterns, as well as masers, just might have something to do with my ADD medication. NO and NO again. Been there, had it done to me. The Psychopathic terrorists invaded my apartment in Seattle in 04-2002 with a large number of unconventional weapons and exposition of forces, and then later ran me into hospital where they took my very useful (and hard won, no doubt arranged too) medication away and this whole "light show" of electromagnetic phenomenon has not abated since then, and still persists, ADD medication or not. Some 16 years of being forced off my very useful medication, culminating in prostate cancer, which IMHO would never of happened had the assholes left me alone as dopamine mediates the immune system, means that this whole shit show of constantly been kept in maser beams and/or having plasma flashes flitting about proves beyond doubt that it is externally arranged and has nothing to do with any medication whatsoever. (Even two shrinks said I was being harassed).

Just to be clear; my ADD medications (prior to 2002, when all this abuse rained down (or reigned, if you prefer) on me) have absolutely nothing to do with any visual abberations that I see, usually in the form of of plasma beams and masers. After a 16 year long hiatus from them, and only now resumed for only four weeks at a low dose, these electromagnetic light phenomenon have continued, and increased over this 16 year duration. And too, it might well be related to the fact that I am kept in a densified magnetic field, last measured in about 2008-9, when it was 1600 Gauss, when the normal magnetic background field is around 0.5 Gauss. A very large difference.

Hint to all you empathetic wannabes (if there any); if you want to exhibit basic decency to a TI, do NOT ever attempt to deny their experiences, nor make any allusions or insinuations as to it coming from other sources than the TI identifies, and in all likelihood, has spent years experiencing and analyzing. Especially that "all in your head" or "its your perception" bullshit.

As to why I didn't identify and denounce these particular intrigues while speaking with the TI indicates to me that this was a result of externally imposed mind control. As you can tell, I get incensed when I get this denial line, especially from those who don't want to explore the details and do their own analysis. And the extreme lack of analytical interest, let alone thought, is the universal characteristic of all those who somehow have unfounded alternate suggestions or explanations. Hardly a coincidence.

And speaking of masers, those blackish blobs that are aimed at me, the assholes have resumed another of their rarefied idiocies. Every time I use the toilet paper, a maser blob emanates from underneath the paper that I have pulled, perhaps from the roll itself, and passes through the single pulled sheet, and then continues to nail me in the eye, though without harm. They were pulling this particular stunt in the winter this year, and have now resumed it. I have no idea why they are so fixated on ass wipe, but they have been from the start of this abuse-athon since 04-2002, and passing masers from the roll through a single pulled sheet (just before I am about to break it off) is just the latest in this epic and relentless insanity (theirs) that I have been cast into.

For the record, even in 2003, I complained to the shrink during one consult that I am being dithered (not allowed) to break the toilet paper off at the perforation, as there was nearly always a tear into the sheet. When before they struck in their apartment invasion of 04-2002, I had absolutely no problem in separating toilet paper on the perforation. As to why a billion dollar budgeted outfit with alien-like extraconventional technologies has to harass the living piss out of me over my use of ass wipe (as one example of thousands) for over 16 years, I have no idea. Just leave the fuck alone.

Sunday, and a hot weekend day off, reaching 36C where I went hiking, and tanning. As "usual", the perps messed up my morning so I didn't get to the trailhead until 1130h, a long standing piss off that has gone on for these past 16 years of this abuse-athon. Before they struck, I was nearly always at the trailhead (anywhere) at 0900-1000h. Now, it is nearly noon for crissakes and it just riles the piss out of me that I am not allowed to keep my own good habits. Which of course, messes up the whole tanning schedule I had planned, as it was an hour hike to my particular location.

And I see they put two 1" slashes in my portable cot that I packed in. "Somehow" these appeared underneath me while on the cot, and should they have been caused by a rock, I would of surely felt it. This constant need for the perps to trash, damage and defile any object that I own, especially ones that I like or find useful, goes on unabated.

I am going to call this one done and post it for the week, short as it is.

Monday, July 30, 2018

Fire Season

Some very hot and sunny days this past week, and if one has followed this blog over the years, they have come to know that this invites wildfires. And with an unforecasted lightning storm (ahem) late yesterday, why, we have 400 strikes and now 22 wildfires burning in the Okanagan Valley.

And a flurry of aircraft overhead in the vineyard today, nearly non-stop. Many were wildfire related, but others weren't. And lo, only a half kilometer away, someone started some kind of fire at a farm that poured out thick black smoke, as if burning tires.

The perps like a good fire, and explosions even better, though the latter are usually reserved for war time thankfully. I don't know quite why they have such an interest in pyrotechnics, apart from a catchphrase I picked up, fire being a "space time ripper", whatever that means.

And for the last two days the perps have had me in a high vexation state at work, attempting to get these wretched Tapener tie down tools to work. I hated them from years ago, most vineyard people hate them, but for "some reason" the boss man was enamored with the thing, and purchased one for me to tie up the now growing floppy vines we planted last year. The tool must feed tape, staple and cut and operate in an alternating mode, something too difficult it seems, even if they have made these since 1971 it says on the box. Finally I gave up on this POS tool, and hand tied the tape instead. No efficiency there of course, but hey, at least we got the TI victim infuriated while significant air traffic and road traffic kept up the noise.

More vine training, tying them up, and again, overhead fire fighting traffic again, given that seven wildfires are still burning in the area.

And more invoked berserk levels of enragement again; finger fumbling, -a severe onset immediately after my first break (having eaten something) and then again after lunch. Nothing new, except the severity and duration, at least 90 minutes each time, and intense swearing at the assholes for pulling the supplies out of my hand just as I was to tie the knot for the tape.

A blood test this morning, the technician invoking the term, "...abuse you...", in jest as to taking a blood test. How bizarre, and I don't find such a term ever to be humorous, and especially since all this extra-conventional abuse began 04-2002.

Continuing aerial traffic in the vineyard, helicopters and aerial tanker aircraft overhead.

Saturday, and I worked at a new vineyard part time, leaf plucking. The owner is interesting, and we ended up in a 1.5 hour conversation about healthcare, each airing our issues and perceptions. He was in an automobile accident a few years ago, and is still going through the recovery process. Even with a straight ahead injury complex such as his, his doctor was doing shit until his wife started attending his medical consults, and only then did the doctor start him on tests and rehabilitation initiatives. Interesting, and cause (again) for me to ponder just what is going on; do doctors have a script from someone ahead of time for their patients and work from that? I know this is very conspiratorial, but it just seems that all too often they take patients sideways and engage in diversionary activities like blood pressure evaluations, etc.

More vineyard work at the part time site. And continuing overhead fire fighting tankers, helicopters and single engine aircraft. Not unlike last year, where the site I worked was on the Penticton Airport approach path, and too, it was a big fire fighting season. Not that my regular vineyard gig is far from the action either, as the closest wildfire is across the lake (Okanagan) almost. It would seem the perps wanted me closer to the airport again, like last year until I left in mid July.

I have been very busy at both vineyards this past week, usually doing a few hours in the evening at the part time gig.

Monday, and the part time gig ended yesterday in the sweltering heat. Today was to be 38C (100F), but there was enough haze in the air such that getting a good tan was much reduced. All part of the sunlight diminution games it seems, this ongoing nonconsensual research "issue" for the perps to constantly mess with sunlight levels, and adding in hot weather as well. Regular readers will recall dense smog from wildfires last year for at least four weeks straight, but so far, there is much less smoke in the air.         

And a minor skin burn that "happened" a few weeks ago; "somehow" the plunger for the French press coffee pot got stuck (when it never does), and I was pushing on it, and "somehow" it went sideways, and "somehow" hot coffee blew back out and splattered my chest area with hot coffee. It was a little sore, but having lifted my shirt off and put on a new one, I didn't notice much. A few days later, I notice that I had a skin burn on my left nipple and that the skin was rejuvenating. So now we have a four way skin color test: regular skin and nipple colors, and rejuvenating regular skin and nipple colors. Well done perps; it just wasn't enough to arrange the impossible event of having hot coffee blow back from a lidded French press pot, but it also "happened" to land on a two tone skin region and then cause another two adjacent skin tones to result. When is this brown color testing going to be over?

Note (for Google censors and their absurd anti-nipple campaign evidenced in their auto-nipple removing software in Youtube) this is a male nipple.

 Anyhow, I am at least a week late in getting this posted due to working two jobs these days, as it seems the regular one only has two weeks remaining.

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Back From the USA

An eight hour drive to get to Bellevue WA, and a six hour drive to get back. The reason for the differential was the I-90 was going at 20mph at best for a long stretch, from the 970 junction to well west of Snoqualmie Pass. All that Sunday holiday traffic returning to the big city it seemed, though there were some road works and perhaps a lane closure. I hadn't been back that way since 2003, and while I didn't get to Seattle, Bellevue seemed similar with the huge array of tall buildings that weren't there then.

Whole Foods is now in Bellevue, and I went there to grab some road food for the return trip. The stalkers were all over my ass, the parking lot was full, even if it was Sunday at 2000h.

The ADD clinic doctor seemed to be legitimately interested and foccussed on attaining a solution, a total turnaround from the shit storm of stupidity and high belligerence from the last four shrinks who ignored the 2001 brain scan that trumped their ridiculous hypothesizing, akin to "throwing darts in the dark" as the clinic founder has publicly stated. I got my Rx filled too, and suffered major sticker shock for a generic ADD Rx. (Later, I took the bottle to the local pharmacy and they keyed it in and told me that it would of been $60CA instead of the $410CA I had paid for it in Bellevue). Hopefully I can get the Rx script rewritten here next time.

My daughter finally called three days after my birthday; busy etc. Some general talk about this and that, then she asked me if anything else was going on. My answer was "no", as she would certainly serve as a ready information conduit to the rest of the First Feral Family and sabotage, or at least denigrate, my new ADD Rx, per above mentioned clinic visit. Been there, had it done to me, so the First Feral Family can go fuck themselves as they have been pointedly unhelpful in all this, if not fully participating.

What is it about me that the perps find so interesting that they need to hound my ass in the supermarket, with all of 10 customers? The constant repeating stalkers who keep showing up just where I need to go next, and then repeat, as in a gangstalking reprise.  Put the Fuckwit on at the front, in aisles, at back, at the cashier, and then in the parking lot. Give it a rest.

Then too, they stepped up the Fuckwits who just (repeatedly) "happen" to be located at the very section I wanted to visit. I call them "sentries", whose main job is to then cause me to redirect my intended path, now well tuned for maximum efficiency as I buy the same foods all the time. So, no good habit goes unsabotaged (in perp mind think), so have the victim walk a longer path all over the place avoiding these sentries until they move on.

Then the parking lot fuckery was also ramped up for no reason; two more vehicles around me in this huge unused parking lot. And they weren't done yet, as a third Fuckwit in a Ford truck, the same paint color as my Ford Escape, pulls in to my driver side after waiting for me to enter my vehicle, headlights on of course. Not only do I get an extra obvious pit-lamping at my vehicle when entering the driver's side, he then pulls in beside me just before I departed. Like WTF; again, a huge unused parking lot, and the Fuckwit "needs" to pull in beside me. How stupid, if only from the safety perspective.

A rain in the morning prevented an early start in the vineyard, ensured my first ADD Rx intake in15 years was begun at home; 0900h seems to be the presnt self-assigned intake time. I didn't get to the vineyard until 1200h, and even then the rain was off and on, and when it finally relented, the vine leaves were still wet and flicking water about.

Sunny in the vineyard today, though I only worked until 1300h. The leg waxing imperative took over, which is normally scheduled for weekends, but as they are short staffed of late, it is only what I could get. As to its prescribed timing on the heels of coming back from Bellevue WA, and now two days on my stimulant Rx, I have no idea. The Rx is giving me a mild lift, in that I don't feel so fatigued, though last night's sleep games seems to be mighty peculiar, though I don't know why.

After work yesterday, I "only" had a 45 min. nap instead of the "usual" 120-180 min. (aka nap attack), and so I thought I had it made in terms of having a regular night's sleep. But no; I was awake for four hours before I could get to sleep, getting some 3 hours rest in all. I even got to work early by 15 min, an unheard experience all of this year until this morning.

A 3.5 hour dental surgery job this afternoon. It is called a "sinus lift" where they drill into one's jawbone and then push a membrane (sinus) away from the teeth and then insert bone graft material to then cause bone to grow in this new cavity. Which is a prerequisite for then growing sufficient bone for inserting anchors for implants once the bone graft has taken in some six months or so.

A long time horizontal in the dental chair for sure, with two people hovering over me, and also planting their knee or thigh up against me as well. (The assistant was a white Caucasian woman, and the dental surgeon was an E. Indian male). And too, wearing their funky sunglasses with blue lenses instead of my regular glasses. And why did this even attract so many fuzzy maser balls zinging around in my vision, often between me and them for the whole time? It just never let up, and after some year's of relative infrequency, the perps went berserk with this kind of invasive harassment. Sure, the Naugahyde covered chair was brown colored, and the multicultural event (one white, one brown) was also interesting from the perp perspective, or was it that human bone tissue was inserted into the cavity? And whose bone tissue, or is it an amalgam of many? Who knows, but one can be sure the perps had this one covered given their incessant games of having ambulatory couples split apart for me to walk between them, and the careful procession of selected stalkers.

Two such stalkers were a pair of negroes doing some kind of pointless troll through the drug store, crossing my path twice and paralleling me down the next aisle. I had just picked up my four Rx for the dental surgery post-operative recovery, and these, plus at least three other parties were all over my ass then. Like WTF; why is picking up an Rx such a gangstalked event? It cannot just be the post-financial transaction timing, as surely we have been through so many of these in so many circumstances for the past 16 years of this abuse-athon.

As to why this confluence of disruptions this week, and during the working day, I have no idea. Monday, all day, I was in Bellevue WA, then drove back for six hours the same day, so one day down. Then the rain came on Tuesday morning, so only a four hour work day. Then Wednesday the wax appointment lopped off 1.5 hours, and then today's dental surgery took three hours off my work day. The latter three subsequent to taking my new ADD Rx on Tuesday. And as it "happens", I am to take Friday, Saturday and Sunday off for post-operative recovery. This one was planted on me after the dental surgery today, and wasn't mentioned in advance, done like a real doctor. Full disclosure means nothing to them because they can have the medical assistant deliver the news for them. So, a totally messed up week, and I was totally screwed in thinking that I would get to make up work hours for the next three days. Well done, perps. One very expensive week, and then the screw me out of work days as well.

I saw all six episodes of Netflix' Wild, Wild Country, about the Rajneeshee takeover of Antelope OR, and the rest of the cult's aggrandizing games. One part that I don't understand is how the main operators, the Bagwan, and his right hand woman, Sheela, got off so lightly. In the latter case she was sentenced to three 20 year terms for federal offenses, and was out in 29 months. (A plea bargain deal for sure, but the evidence was very strong). And she was wanted on charges in Oregon, but when she got out of federal prison early, the federal authorities somehow "forgot" to mention that to the Oregon authorities, and by then she had scooted from the US. How convenient.

One of her criminal acts was the largest bioterrorism incident in the US; some 751 people in The Dalles were poisoned with salmonella that was cultured on the Rajneesh property in their lab. The evidence was strong, so WTF. And the bitch had the gall to say, probably after her jail time was over, "so some people got sick, people are getting sick all the time". What a huge irony it is that she now owns and runs two hospices in Switzerland. And of course she was promoting her care giving abilities in the final episode that covered her post Rajneeshee life. As to why the interviewer didn't skewer her with this monstrous incongruity I don't know. And why do the Swiss authorities let her run nursing homes with that kind of criminal background (mass poisoning), I have no idea. It just doesn't add up, but perhaps there are other legal machinations I am unaware of.

With some 5,000 of the members of the Rajneesh wearing red, maroon or pink, surely that had to be of perp interest or oversight, as they cannot get enough of clothing colors and its bioenergetic effects. Though to be fair, (with a few exceptions noted above and following) I didn't see any unconventional events or circumstances that would of tipped their hand. You know, those arranged "coincidences". But it was clear that someone gave Sheela and the Rajneeshis an excuse to arm themselves to the teeth with semi-automatic weapons and guards. Apparently, an Islamic nutter (same old story), set a bomb off in the Rajneeshee hotel in Portland OR (no one killed, ahem), and Sheela took this to be the work of the hostile locals (who she antagonized to begin with), which served as the rationale for the armament efforts.

My two main complaints with this six hour episode; what exactly were these teachings of the Bagwan that captivated so many well educated people. And also, why didn't the documentary interviewers ask questions about the incongruities of their behaviors versus their teachings? Giving an open microphone to that ever prevaricating and dissembling chameleon, Sheela, for so much air time was absurd. Ditto for Stork and Tolkes, the lawyer for the Rajneeshees. One episode should of been devoted to the experience of the followers, as it seems, it was more about separating and isolating people, and the few children there didn't fare well either.

I could go on, but the current documentary style of vapid interviewers, (if that), who cannot call these actors out on their past treachery seems over indulgent to say the least. The Rajneeshees got off lightly in this documentary; there were prior criminal activities of prostitution rings, drug running in India, and the former in California too. And the financial backers didn't get full mention; Sheela's family, heiresses of two major corporations in the US as well. Plus, the Bagwan had plenty of nasty things to say about Jews and Hitler; likely not part of his "teachings" I am sure. And too, the ALCU backed the Rajneeshees in their claim of being harassed by government authorities, also not mentioned. A good binge watching documentary, but missing some vital details, and as mentioned, there was too much ass-kissing of the perpetrators (of the day) who got obligatory crying time, a perverse high water benchmark of accomplishment in journalism these days.

Another irony demanding further inquiry that should of been directed at Jane Stork, the Australian woman who came under the Rajneeshee's and Sheela's spell, was that the cult dissuaded members from having children and called for abortions and sterilization. So Jane Stork arrived in Oregon at the Rajneeshee's commune with two children, and fully participated in the cult's organizational ambitions,intimating that she at least distanced herself from her son on more than one occasion. (As well as articulating the strident and militant Rajneeshee message at public hearings). When she finally rejected Rajneeshee-ism some years later, she stated in the documentary that the re-acceptance by her parents in Australia meant all to her, and it proved that family was all important. Quite the turnaround, which begged for some kind of interviewer question to bridge the two. Again, another case of giving the perceived victims/perpetrators too much unfettered air time gives the impression that the documentary was over indulgent, not unlike the Oregon newspapers of the day.

Five good days of solid sunshine, including three for my post-operative recovery. I laid around outside yesterday, getting tanned as I haven't had a chance for a few weeks. Now Saturday, and lo, if the assholes didn't blank me out of going to the Farmer's Market downtown, something I had been planning to do.

And they didn't let me sleep at all last night, pummeling me with imagery of their imaginary characters, two of the main three having died now. Lots of funeral "footage'. And another theme that got new prominence is that the remaining character is now into managing a firm to make sea-shell material artificially, in sheets and blocks and custom shapes, quite the feat as it has never been done. And too, turning this into products with all the essential promotion that would be needed.

Also, I was pummeled with imagery of my body hairs close up, short ones that are in need of shaving or plucking. This got so invasive that I had to spin my head from side to side to eliminate them, which it did every time

Now afternoon, and I am much reduced in activity due to no sleep last night. Even these "split shift" sleeps, where have got nailed with a 2-3 hour nap attack around 1600-1900h, of the last six months, always allowed me to get to sleep around midnight. But not last night for some strange reason.

I did some reading outside in the shade of the tree, and besides these incessant maser balls flicking around, they kept grinding me with overflight noise, one single engine aircraft came over at least 6x, easily the noisiest kind of them all. Add in intervening HD noise in adjacent streets, plus a scooter that really needed to turn around outside the gate, it just seems that someone was up to their usual noise inundation games. Alternating sources of internal combustion engine noise, (from air, from the ground) is nothing new.

I did my usual hike today, even if it was a little on the energetic side for post-operative surgery instructions. Yesterday's lying around was sufficient incentive, abetted by no prior sleep,  been aided by other unconventional means. That meant sky clad tanning too, as I was off-trail with no one around. The "usual" (read, imposed) too-late start to hiking again, which absolutely infuriates me. They had me get up late after an almost decent night's sleep, and then get motivated to clean up the shower stall. By the time I got to the trail head it was 1200h, at least 2 hours later than I wanted. They just keep pulling this particular shit and it absolutely pisses me off.       

The trail gangstalking was on the low side, save for one couple who came down the regular trail and took the route at the junction I was on. (I was outbound, so they should of just followed the route back). It was a first, but the real question remains is why do they keep showing up at trail junctions? Same old, same old; changing direction of travel is a huge deal to the perps.

Anyhow, I am too wiped out and getting too much typo sabotage to continue. Enough for the week.

Saturday, July 07, 2018

Pit Lamping Predominance

And why is the gangstalking becoming more understated, and the pit-lamping (targeted headlights (or other light sources)), becoming more predominant of late? Can I not turn a corner, be it in ambulatory fashion (say, when working/walking in the vineyard), or when driving, and not get beamed with headlights? All these Fuckwits just sitting in their vehicles, "happening" to have their headlights on. Yeah right.

Tonight at SOF supermarket, the "usual" games, posting dithering Fuckwits at places where I want to go, to which I respond by changing my route and coming back later. Which is game for getting mind-fucked (remotely applied dithering) out of returning, something else they like to play. I just don't understand why they need to post these Fuckwits ahead of me, have me change my route, (usually with extra back tracking), all for the same groceries I buy every week. This played out three times tonight; at the hot chicken counter, the deli counter, and then the chocolate section. In the latter case, one of the male Fuckwits saw the need to scratch his crotch, another gangstalker specialty I have come to know. And for the record, I go grocery shopping around 1900h to reduce the stalking count.

At least tonight, there were none of the typical babes, who then have dudes planted beside them or in front of them as part of the couple gangstalking vignettes they so liked to plant around me. This is it, there isn't any high end grocery stores in this town.

Speaking of headlights, they had me install a new pair of halogen bulbs in the Escape last week. Then yesterday, I had to go to the Ford dealership to get the new turn signal bulbs installed, because it requires body panel removal, and I don't do such complex tasks anymore because things go "wrong" far too often. So I sat there for 30 minutes and waited in the customer waiting area, among a constant flux of gangstalkers. The friendly service counter woman of past visits was decidedly distracted this time; no chatting and no broad hints, e.g. "I don't have a boyfriend". She did pass by and wave at one point, so it wasn't quite a full "pretend not to know me" stunt, but she was decidedly made too busy for casual banter while I was there. And so what is about the perps that they engage people who later go emotionally AWOL, or otherwise pretend no to know me, time and time again? I don't know or care; just leave me the fuck alone.

The vineyard boss man was exceptionally terse and uncommunicative today, and as it turned out, in a rather bad mood. I learned from the woman crew member that his girlfriend left him a few weeks ago because he was hiding his drinking problem. He told me via text that his girlfriend "broke it off" a few weeks ago, but I didn't know about the latter drinking issue.

Which might explain his sudden behavior change today. He grumpily stated we were missing shoots in tucking, so we had to do vine rows individually, not doing two at a time by walking the aisle and going back and forth between two rows. Like WTF; we weren't missing shoots as I was looking at the others' (two) work all the time. Anyhow, we just spent two weeks doing it the way he prescribed, (two rows from a single aisle) and now he invokes this ersatz BS as a reason to change the tucking method. Well, if we were missing shoots for the past two weeks, why didn't he mention it for crissakes? I don't buy it, and see this as an exercise in berational fuckery. Back to walking on eggshells again, as in heightened anxiety, a situation the perps just love to create.

Regular readers will recall one behaviorally errant and unpredictable co-worker who had this same effect last year, and after the fourth such unprovoked stunt (July 06, 2017), I quit to join the place I currently work. And now within a day of a year later, we are back to walking on eggshells again with another co-worker, the boss man this time. Woo-hoo, haven't we had enough of this? The ex was also good at "charging the home climate" with her behavioral variances, to put it mildly, and now we get to do this again, and again. And Ms.C, the perp plant who was taken to be a girlfriend at the time, 2000-2003, was also known for her senseless confrontational drama queen tactics.

And on the re-tread trail, this long standing fuckery over income tax deductions. After working at the above mentioned outfit for a year, they finally get it together to issue pay stubs. Not issuing them is illegal, as there is no statement of earnings, but hey, even with a certified accountant in the role of vineyard owner, these things can be arranged. The deal is simple: I pay an extra $50/check in tax so I won't get screwed for more when it comes to the following year at tax time, so I have a refund, instead of tax payable. Because if I don't, I will end up having to pay some $600-800 in taxes, and usually don't have the cash on hand. It has worked for the last four years, but this year I find, after getting a pay stub for the first time, it turns out that this isn't been done. I ask the accountant to increase my tax payable each check, as he says he never got the instructions. Like WTF; why is it that someone has to screw me over this for? Just paying tax like a prudent law abiding citizen isn't allowed in Fuckover Land.

Back in around 2006 I also had to pay US taxes on US income, and had an accountant to handle the US tax matters. So what "happens"? Why, he "forgets" to make the quarterly payments (which I didn't know was required in the first place) and I had to pay a fine of some $400US or so. This constant fuckery over paying tax, when is my avowed practice to keep my nose clean and comply with the law and make prudent choices to prepare for taxes is just not allowed by the Fuckover Assholes. It would be interesting to hear from other TI's as to their tax woes. As I said before, and often do out loud; every good (prudent) practice must be sabotaged (from the perps' perspective). A variation on "no good deed goes unpunished", perhaps a perp sponsored agenda theme as well.

A special birthday today; I am 2**6, that is, 2 to the power of 6, (or, 2x2.. six times), =64. Perhaps a numerological diversion for us IT folks, that is all. The last binary exponent birthday, as I really don't expect (or want) to get to 128 y.o. No cards, and the feckless daughter didn't even deign to call. Nothing too unexpected. My mother did though. The dentist and yoga center sent me emails at least, so I am not totally anonymous.

The boss man settled down to his usual taciturn self today, and was even making conversation by day's end. And as it turns out, the 3 day/week summer student, all of 19 y.o., is going to be laid off after next week. I miss having someone to talk to in English, having worked with E. Indians and the like on past vineyard jobs. He is a good kid, and I try not to sound like a obsessive crank on issues he knows not of. Which is what I do always, but in his case I make the extra effort. (That is, I don't get into the alternity topics, nor do I discuss the Great Capers, like cancer, wars, and other Deep State subterfuges). Not too much conversational ground with him, but at least he is keen to learn about vineyard work and I tell him what I know relevant to his questions.

As for my other co-worker, Ms K, she can be conversationally avoidant at times, and prefers to flake out on the grass at lunch time, should our lunch times coincide. She did fill me in on the aforementioned boss man's drinking issues, and later told me he was trying to date her last year, even if she had a boyfriend at the time. And she said the boss man's evening time texts (in profusion) were "inappropriate", and that he was getting shit-faced (drunk) every evening. She also said she wasn't trying to lead the boss man on, which I can believe. Being cute and female can bring on a lot of woe I am beginning to understand.

Saturday, and I worked for 6 hours, just to get more hours in for the two week pay period. I met the vineyard owner and chatted briefly. He seems like a good head, and offers appreciation for my vineyard work efforts. None of the typical "treat me like a freak" vibe I get from most folks.

Perhaps the gangstalking is becoming selectively applied of late. Today's after-work visit (always a high stalking event) to the alterations shop brought on the obvious gangstalking. A "couple" of sorts, was on duty, leading ahead of me and then following me out, and neither of them had any particular dealings with the woman at the counter. The woman was inside the alterations shop when I arrived outside, the dude was exiting his vehicle to lead-ahead stalk me inside. I followed, and I thought the dude, (and the woman I saw for the first time) would be served ahead of me, but no. I got my repaired coveralls, paid the $10.50, while this couple just stood around. Only a minute later at my vehicle, they exit without any alterations in hand, and the woman had a bag of nectarines. Like WTF; here they were ahead of me, and didn't get served in some kind of pre-arranged dodge, and then virtually follow me out, without any apparent purpose of being there. The "couple" thing was also fudged; she seemed to be old enough to be his mother, but wasn't, so what was that all about in putting two disparate individuals together? And do the perps put on selected Fuckwits just to loiter around while I engage in a financial transaction? Yes, and they have consistently done this since all this shit came down, 04-2002.

Which wasn't unlike a visit to the bank the day before; I wait in line for US$, and the massive fat guy ahead of me moves to the next available teller. Meanwhile, this agitated woman of 30 y.o or so, was ahead of him, but stays behind. She is now in front of me, leaning on the teller counter, and is twisting and turning, lifting her foot so I get to see the sole of her boot, and acting agitated. Then when the next teller calls out, she moves ahead of me, leaving her sweater at the counter where she was. So she hung back for some reason, acted like a drug addict, while the teller staff ignored her, and her leaving her garments temporarily behind. Like WTF; surely the tellers are trained on security issues and yet they do squat.

I am off to the USA tomorrow, hoping for a better crossing than the last time. A two day trip to Bellevue WA if all goes well, but we shall see.

Enough for a posting and I will catch up on the subsequent news next week.

Sunday, July 01, 2018

Skipped a Week

No, I did not lose a week, though that can happen. I just found things a little too boring, and was no doubt demotivated to boot, therefore, no posting for the last week. (In terms of losing time, my experiences have been few since this harassment began 04-2002, but it is in the order of a few hours where I have no clue as to how the time passed).

I got my kick start after yoga tonight. For the last three weeks there has been 4-5 yogis (class members), a rather low turn out these Monday nights at hot yoga. No matter. Then tonight, about 15 show up, all new to me, no yogis from past classes. Most peculiar. And some yoga tourists too, including the dude with the fugly tats and wearing a ball cap through the class. Another first in ridiculousness, in that he really hadn't been to a class before, but hardly the last. And just where do they draw all these characters from, as I never see them around town in any capacity, save the odd one. For a town of 35k, I would expect to see a few more. So just what is the point of arranging this high turnover at yoga, which is even getting more so this past year? I have no idea, but it continues in its own orchestrated fashion.

And the blonde lady at the Ford dealership two days ago was ever more chatty, and revealing; "I don't have a boyfriend" this time. A while ago it was, "I don't have a husband or children", in justifying the attention she devotes to her dog which was there at the time. Another one with tats down her arm, and there was a few others in yoga tonight.

A rain-out at the vineyard job today; the thunder had started, the clouds were closing in and I decided to call it off, as I had two others in my care. And a good thing too, because after a 10 min. drive home, the heavens opened and intense rain and hail pelted down. Inconveniently, it came on just as I pulled into my lane parking, and before I got out to go into the house.

Last night there was a severe thunderstorm and power went out in many communities here-abouts. Which made for wet vineyard work this morning, and wearing rain gear to work. All in keeping with the ongoing game of water source exposures I suppose; weather, then imbibing irrigation water, and then the intense rain storm later. In between we had sunshine, enough for me to wear sun block, and then the clouds rolled in, with prior spitting rain.

I attended a wine industry social event last night, uncharacteristically for me, but then again, I hardly get such invitations. About 120 folks there, and I didn't know a soul; I met a few, and then we were divided into teams, and went to various stations to perform team tasks. All good fun and all, and lo, if our team didn't win and we each received a bottle of wine and a pair of flip flops. The latter didn't fit as they were a woman's size, but I gave them to the woman at work.

Three from my work did show up finally, but at least halfway through, and by then I was in the team doing our tasks, and I didn't get to speak with them. I have never seen so many overweight young women in all my life. I am quite unfamiliar with so many young people being obese, though I get quite a few such stalkers, though both old and young. As in the gut strut, I call it. And I felt cognitively clobbered last night the whole time; what in the fuck are they doing to my recall now?

Going back a few days when I was at the vineyard with the winery. Why is it that I cannot visit the bathroom and not have a (gangstalking) entourage? I went to the winery and no one was there for the 40' that I traversed, including passing through the tasting room. Upon my exit, why, the owner, the tasting room supervisor, and some other visiting dude (also witnessed (aka stalking) in the parking lot a few minutes ago when I was at my vehicle), all clustered together to block my egress at the doorway, post piss. Like WTF; from no one, to three of them, all pretending that they weren't blocking the doorway and collectively taking their time to allow me to pass through. Who arranges these ridiculous vignettes, and why are people, especially in clusters, so fucking rude?

Back in 2015-16, while at another winery, I had just taken a piss and the boss lady arrived just as I exited, looking obviously contrite. I just don't get it; why relentlessly hound the literal piss out of an innocent victim for 16 years on top of a prior 47 years of covert surveillance?

I saw Lindsay Beaver and the 24th Street Wailers last night, and what a great show it was. A three piece band, with the lead singer doing stand up drumming at the same time. The guitarist was sensational, even doing a song (competently) with the guitar behind his back. The bassist wasn't quite so flamboyant, but was every bit up to the task. Lots of humorous banter among the musicians and audience too. It was rock and roll, and electric blues at its best, and I had no complaints. One of those shows to remember for all time. And they even let me purchase a CD this time, unlike the performance last time where the clustered the sales desk and then pissed me off enough that I hightailed it out of there.

The stalking there was low key this time, no one slamming into me while I was seated at the back wall like before. And the attractive and delectable breasted waitress wasn't there either thankfully, she of the grim countenance and a massive chest tattoo. She did plenty of "see me" stalking last time, even if she wasn't my waitress. And no pronounced staring at me from the stage performers either, another trait that seems to "happen". In fact, last time, the lead performer had me lined up for a protracted stare while she was initially approaching the stage for crissakes. Like, how did she "happen" to single me out from 40' away, and wasn't she more interested in getting to the stage anyhow? As it "happened", she was dead opposite me once she took her stage position.

Mostly cloudy but warm these past three vineyard days. Pleasant to work in, and no major sweating and inconveniences of insects biting me.

Canada Day, the equivalent of July 4 south of the border today. I worked in the vineyard again to catch up with my hours, and add a few for next week as it will be punctuated by various meetings and appointments which I shall detail in due course. One such takes me south of the border for the first time since 2003, and has begot a lot of angst these past two weeks. Again, all will be posted next week.

And lo, yet again, I switch to a new block of a different varietal (Gewurztraminer to Pinot Gris in this instance), have lunch for 10 minutes, then start tucking vines on the latter, and the boss man arrives. I was working all by myself until then, not unusual for weekend. This is about 1230h, but hey, it is a national holiday on a Sunday for crissakes, and that is just fine. But the timing, per past and consistent gangstallking and orchestration, is impeccable. So just what is it about switching working from one varietal to another that so interests the perps that they send in someone, or arrange some kind of skit or event? I don't know, but it has been so consistent that I have mentioned it past postings. And sometimes what happens in other vineyards is that an odd off-varietal vine somehow escaped being pulled, and while doing one varietal for, say, a week, a single different plant instance occurs. Or another variant of the varietal switching is where a single row switches from one varietal to another. This was true in the 2015-16 vineyard, and I could always detect the difference in the leaves or plant form, and then suddenly I somehow missed the change, and thought I was working in one varietal when it was the wrong one.

I know, the above ramble on switching from working in one vine varietal to another and the consequent orchestrated hijinx sounds a little botanical and/or academic, but guess what? This same shit erupts when I switch from one clone of one varietal to different clone, say, Clone 115 to 777 of Pinot Noir, which is the case at this vineyard. Is there a botanical "vibe" for each of species, (e.g. Vitis), genus (e.g. vinifera), variety (e.g. Pinot Noir) and clone (e.g, per above), that the perps want to detect between me and the plant, for either situation of witting (knowing about the change) or unwittting, where they make me clueless about the change in mid-row of vines? It just seems that way, as this shit show with respect to vineyard work (and coincident stalking and interuptions at varietal and clone changes) has gone on for 6 years now. By "vibe", perhaps it could be elaborated upon, and describes something like: a fundamental energetic organism interaction between humans and plants to each respective phylogenic classification (taxonomy): Kingdom, Division,... Family, Genus, Species, Varietal, Clone, not only in name, but to the actual organism. Anyhow, any outside speculation about this topic is welcome in the Comments section.

Enough for the week, and onto another of being a prisoner in disguise. Who knew such a song title would describe my, and other TI's plight so succintly? Or would this apply to everyone on this bio-lab called planet Earth?

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.