Sunday, January 21, 2018

Latest Long Term BS Theme

The continuing BS theme of the last four weeks isn't going away, and seems to be telepathically injected at least 60x/day, usually very subtly and in small memes. The BS theme, and the perps seem to need me to be subject to one, is that this whole harassment and abuse regimen will be lifted sometime this year. But of course, they have a long record of delivering these themes, and nothing happens. Or like last year's blatant BS stunt.

The prominent BS theme last year, going back into late 2016 in fact, was that I would get my prostate cancer treatment at a proton beam facility at LL. Well, as I found out by way of phone call in 06-2017, it was at least $85k. No way do I have that kind of cash, never mind 8 weeks of expenses away from my residence while I am kept as a vineyard laborer. As I said to myself all the while, the notion of proton beam therapy was untenable and undoable, and was certain that I would be doing my daily radiotherapy treatment at the Kelowna cancer clinic, which came to be. Sometime in 09-2017 they backed off on the proton beam BS theme, and the treatments started later 10-2017 for six weeks. So what was that all about, apart from yet another futility exercise, which I knew to be the case from the outset. The short answer is I don't know why the perps engage in senseless long term (over 2 months) planted BS themes, but needless to say, it isn't me that indulges in futility thinking.

I notice my daughter is sending more emails, and for once, taking an interest in the whole prostate cancer issue, so one has to be curious about these sudden behavior changes in this controlled and orchestrated situation that I find myself in. This from her who never sent one note or phone call of interest, never mind empathy, until treatment was queued up about 07-2017. (And to further rub the point home, the day that I found out that I had prostate cancer from the doctor "happened" to be her birthday in 06-2016, the day I was bound to phone her anyhow. It seems someone wanted to save a call, or more like, reduce the possibility of any empathy from the outset). Well done assholes.

I have been meaning to see a real psychic for at least two years now, but as so often, the more efficacious actions are curiously delayed, very unlike me. The healer guy of last week's posting got vague on me and for some reason I didn't pin him down. Funny how psychics get away with vague-isms so often.

Another cancer stunt came to fruition this morning. The boss man called off the job today because of the weather, and so I went to the doctor to get an Rx renewed, and ask about this lesion that never seems to heal on my forehead. She gets out the special light, and declares it to be basal cell sarcoma. And so a referral to a specialist to have it excised. Great. Though this spot has been around for 8 years, and it has got bigger in the last year, maybe 7mm across.

And in keeping with the prostate cancer diagnosis of 06-2016, per above, when they were all over my ass after the diagnosis including overhead helicopters, they were gangstalking my ass for the three stops I made after today's doctor's visit. The first was LD for my Rx with the E. Indian (brown skinned) pharmacy tech. And then onto chocolate, for which I paid the price at the checkout due to extended fuckery by the customer in front. Which meant the fat fucker behind me got way too close, leading with his gut. Then a walk by came too close as well, just as I was standing apart from the fat fucker. Talk about a stake out.

The second stake out was the tanning salon, and they not only had me covered with the dudes sitting around for no seeming reason, the woman who runs the show yet again, somehow "forgot" to set the timer, so I had to get dressed with the cream on me, and wander out to the front desk to get her to turn it on. Perhaps I should walk out with nothing on and fix that problem for good. Needless to say, two more gangstalkers were there at the desk too. She gave me a diversionary deflecting question, not bothering to say sorry this time. This lady does not make these mistakes, and is the third fucking time she has pulled this shit. One of the tanning salon gangstalkers was the dude who runs the 10 bay car wash across the street, just sitting there. As I get up to go to the tanning room he is staring at me so I stared right back at him, and so he diverted his gaze. Which raises the point, what was he doing there anyhow as he has a full time job running the show across the street with all the things that go wrong. I know, because that is where I take my vehicle to get washed,and he is always putzing around my bay when I am there. Or else the change machine fucks up, and I need to find him. And even more disconcerting to me is that I never forget a face, and "somehow" I did, and did not recognize this Fuckwit and his ridiculous  bob-job of reddish hair (not exactly a tanning type) until I got home. That is very unlike me, and I'm utterly pissed my visual recall is being fucked with again.

I don't particular care for President Trump, especially when he wants to kill NAFTA and I am not even sure he knows how to spell it. Then he let the CIA rumble him by not releasing the full set of JFK records according to law, some 30k documents for what is officially a single assassin, har, har. But I will stand with him on his latest declarations on "shithole countries". He has got it exactly right, and these are the immigrants the western world does not need.  The African aid experts will say that 50 of 54 countries are not worth donating to because of corruption, violence and other security issues. Since colonialism is long over, guess what, the excuses are over as well and they are doing this all by themselves. Its their own behavior, individually and collectively, and one only has to read "Detroit, an American Autopsy" for more confirmation. Or take Haiti; now free for over 200 years because the slaves led the only fully successful revolt, also aided by the declarations of the French Revolution at the time. Anyhow, reams can be written, but I see that the happy-clappy liberal delusionals are now calling Pres. Trump a racist when it has got nothing to do with the facts. That has to be the last resort of a scoundrel, playing the race card. Too bad the media keep fomenting this, rather than offering any objective analysis and calling the BS as it is.

A day in the vineyard, and four new workers today, and I am the only "regular". The guys that are known to me from three years ago are all on other full time jobs, now that vineyard pruning has begun in earnest. I have no idea what the rotation of co-workers is all about, but is a consistent theme in this ongoing orchestration.

A job interview this morning for a full time vineyard technician gig. The two interviewer guys seemed like good folks to work with, but I came away with the distinct impression it was a big softball pitch. Asking questions as to why one applied/has interest, goals, what does one bring to the job etc. did not happen at all. In fact, very few questions about my experience or resume, which given the job, there should of been something more substantive. Those pre-smirk looks (the look of the eyes just before one smirks) didn't provide any confidence that this was serious either. So what was that all about? Either a pair of laid back interviewers or a big nothing. I suppose I shall find out in a few weeks, yes or no.

Evening time; and more password fuckery; CDBaby and Paypal forced more password changes, at least the 5 and 6th over the last month. (Plus one at the bank for my card). There is always some excuse; in the former it was that I hadn't used their service in a while, and the latter, it was the fact that I moved locations. Any excuse will do I suppose, but I cannot keep them straight any more, and the perps just love that to then exploit for yet more downstream fuckery, usually when I don't have my paper list with me. Joy of joys, I will have this one hanging over my head for the next year, all to repeat this again when I visit Victoria again.

Another day in the vineyard, this being a Saturday. In fact, we moved from one to the other when the work was finished. The new crew isn't the same as the former familiar hands, the "closet red necks" with whom I exchange ready banter. I even gave a ride to one of them, and didn't get much of a register of who he was, where he is headed etc., even if he seemed to be an articulate person.

More of the telepathic notions of a cessation of hostilities; at least 30 per day, maybe more. After 47 years of hounding my ass surreptitiously, and 15.5 years of overt abuse and harassment down to even being unable to flip a switch or turn a page predictably, I cannot believe that they would suddenly desist. And too, the romantic moments with ML are constantly planted in mind, always in the context appropriate format theme they have created. That is, if I am standing, so is she, ditto for other postures, and in black and white. Tiresome, all of it, and an abiding consideration.

Barely enough for a posting, but I shall keep this on a weekly basis.

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