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?