Thursday, January 30, 2020

Back to Pruning

Back to the regular vineyard gig again, this being my first day back. As always, any new event, be it a new job, job location or even a resumption such as this, begets extra imposed fuckery. You know, the "usual" problems that vineyard pruners face, e.g. making mistakes (cutting the wrong cane). Except that I know this place, the vines, and have sufficient experience that I would not ordinarily make these mistakes. Funny how the "mistakes" rolled off after a few hours. The next day the assholes fucked me out of taking my regular ADD medications, which was when the new boss lady dropped by. (She is working at the other vineyard).

A Monday, and yoga in the evening, and in concert, an extra large crowd. So many new faces at this shit show tonight and at least 20% were utterly hopeless and if not for a practice session (my supposition, as many seem to know the next move before the instructor), I would think they would be best suited for couch surfing. So what is yoga class but a "TI Gangstalk Tour" for the invited? I was looking up alternate yoga studios, and one was attesting to their casual "vibe" and that laughter was not only common, but promoted. There ain't no laughter at the sessions I go to, just this heads down grimness, long the calling card of these orchestrated Fuckwits. Though to be fair, the staff are fine. In fact, one instructor who was making jokes, didn't last too long, even if she was cute, blonde and young.

And again at yoga, more wierds, and even compounding three profound Unfavored" features in the form of one individual; a male with tight curly hair (blonde) hair with the fugliest set of fine bluish tattoos all over his arms and some coverage on his legs. I couldn't bear to look at this multiple Unfavored freak, and yet the Psychopaths kept sending my gaze there, about three mats away.

And again, why is this class getting so full, so early? Time was that I was the first one in at 10 minutes early, but I am now pressed to find a spot leaving at my usual time. And what is with the pre-selected mat locations? One woman who came a minute or two after me, as I saw her coming through the door, (a time honored gangstalking location), just "happened" to have her studio supplied mat in place before she arrived in the practice room next to me. She put her towel on the mat, but I don't get it; how did she know the mat was there for her?

Onto the TI community. Here is a TI that managed to finish his PhD while the heat was on; individual21 -Stephen Mullet's 89pp story of how targeted abuse and arranged coincidences came down on him, and in addition, his conclusions as to the greater picture this fits into. For example, the police are a criminal organization (my own determination too, based on personal experience), and others. Some details on numeric and syntactical "coincidences", with the bottom line (mine); don't use so-called social media. Quoting from his conclusions:
 Once again, I have done the impossible.  I have proven convincingly that the U.S. government is behind nearly every mass shooting and terrorist attack on U.S. soil, and even those occurring in other nations.  Considering the sheer number of shootings, terrorist attacks, and homicides I have proven in this post, and then considering all those I have not yet addressed but have confirmed to be manipulated, we can reasonably infer that the US government is orchestrating the socio-political and cultural order through the strategic manipulation of events, including major terrorist attacks, celebrity deaths, high profile legal cases, and more, in order to control the unfolding of history as we proceed towards the New World Order, and the utopian one world government.
In this 89 page document, I have shattered the sacred beliefs of the American ideological system.  Liberty is a lie.  The American dream is a lie.  Capitalism and the free market are lies.  America is fundamentally a planned economy and social order.  The powers that be have merely deceived the public into believing that the socio-political order is being governed by the invisible hand.  In reality, it’s the government that controls everyone’s fortune.  The government has determined everything you are, everything you have ever accomplished, and everything you will ever accomplish.  This restraint upon the liberty rights of the populace appears to be accomplished through ties to the education system, workplace, interest groups, and other social outlets through the COPS program.
"Proved" is a stretch IMHO, but worth a read. I have yet to be convinced of a "one world government" master plan by anyone, but perhaps I am being contrary on this one. And as a footnote to other complaints he has stated in the document I have a warning for hm; if you suspect your girl action is orchestrated, termed as "police snitches", then prepare yourself for similar related issues that come down, e.g. no libido, no functional ephemeral bone etc.

Speaking of orchestrated/planted girlfriends, back before the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, they planted two girlfriends over a three year span. One stayed in circulation after the apartment invasion, and who alternately stated she wanted to help me (har, har) and then would be clearly abetting the Psychopathic torturers. And she wasn't too big on empathy when the chips were down, as they were so often in those helter-skelter days of intense and unconventional abuse. That would be Ms. C of my story, (elsewhere in the blog), and when I departed her place in 2003 with some of my belongings of my own apartment, she claimed that she loved me etc. A ridiculous proclamation to say the least, especially given her spotty track record with the truth and obvious perp abettance. To this day I cannot fathom why the Psychopaths would put on that highly absurd and transparent act for so little outcome. Because when I attempted to return two weeks later and pack up the rest of my belongings and clean out my apartment, (and also visit her) the border patrol pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever. So her absurd statement of fond attachment was the last time I saw her, though some emails and phone communications persisted for three more years with declining content. That is my biggest WTF moment of this whole abuse-athon of its nearly 18 years (and running). And will likely be the biggest WTF moment of my existence.

Interesting that individual21's harassment started in 2002, when mine did, as I term it, they  "went berserk/overt".

Onto the more mundane but repeated fuckery; the assholes lost my keys to the landlord's house I am looking after. Which meant that I took their mail to my place for safe-keeping, which is probably the plan in the first place. I just don't know what it is about mail, but the perps are berserk over it, and handling someone else's mail is cause for them to ramp up the fuckery and idiocy. Last year I picked up a parcel for the landlady, and having the same street address on my ID allowed me to pick it up for her. That event brought me all kinds of gangstalking action and a "hold-up" at the pokey, (normally not busy) PO. A "hold-up" at cashiers and public counters is my term for when they plant a Fuckwit ahead of me who has a "difficult problem" that requires extensive time to resolve. Another variant is stacking the line ahead of me with a Fuckwit/gangstalker surge, for the same reason; to keep me waiting in line for this blatant obstruction to conclude. And do the Psychopaths ever love to have me in a queue so their Fuckwits can slowly tread over top of where I was standing.

The missing keys may be findable at the location where I parked my vehicle at the vineyard; I take much care in handling my keys, and ensured they were in a zippered pocket with my car keys so they don't go missing in the vineyard or other such unfindable location. But "somehow" the keys just flipped out on their own, "somehow" unnoticed. The assholes also pulled this shit with the same zippered ski pants about four weeks ago, with a different key. I figured the key was lost for good in some vineyard location (prior gig with many vineyards), but were found in the snow once it melted near my parked vehicle at the landlord's house.

And what is it about keys that so fixates the Psychopaths? Co-workers leave their keys in ridiculous places in the vineyard (on the ground FFS), then another time, unintentionally as it seemed as I "found" her keys at her locked vehicle when I was on a weed whacking job that morning. Another time, she lost her keys at her place and another co-worker drove her to retrieve them.

Which is a segue to this same (key misplacing) co-worker who I "happened" to meet at a supermarket after work yesterday. You know, the designed coincidence; I stopped at this particular grocery store after work that I had never patronized before as it had sausages that were particularly good, and lo, she was there shopping too. As it turns out, she is pruning the other vineyard. We met with a hug, another long running perp stunt, though it was an entirely appropriate greeting in the context. (I just cannot stand these orchestrated "huggie" events the Fuckwit gangstalkers put on with such frequency in my proximity). So here I was, involved in the same.

And as it "so happens" as part of the lead-up to permit my after work grocery shopping and co-worker hug (per above), I did not have the usual urgency to get to the bathroom after work. For the past two weeks, it has been such that I need to get to the crapper within a minute or less of my return to my residence, every work day. This is highly unusual timing, especially the forced bowel movements, and the assholes usually don't permit me to remove my ski pants (over my running tights as long underwear), or my large boots. One day they even pulled a double; a forced crap as I was about to head out the door, forcing me to remove my coat, though without sufficient time to remove my ski pants or boots. Then when I came home that same day, another forced crap similarly attired given the imposed urgency. The Psychopaths insane and relentless fixation in defecating and shit is limitless. And I don't think it is just me, given the profusion of street crapping in California that has been making the news for the last few months. It was to the degree that it even spawned an app for one's phone spotting the latest crap locations.

Then if the fuckery over losing the keys today wasn't enough, the assholes struck again this evening with another stunt; the "forget the wallet" jerkaround. And of course I was caught out big time as I had a basket full of groceries that I was about to pay for, and lo, no fucking wallet. I am sick fucking fed up of the insane fuckery over what is in my wallet, and the forced "forget" games over having it on my person. Just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough. And if you really want to unpack my grocery basket for me, just come by, introduce yourself and wave a $1000 bill and I won't ask any questions, as much as would like to. You fucking insane assholes.

Speaking of that gangstalking hole, the SOF supermarket and their heads-down staff, what was the point of that ridiculous cough-stalking Fuckwit last week? A male ponytail (in grey FFS) was walking toward me in a store aisle that I frequent as my last shopping before the checkout, and here he was doing this fake cough with a consistent tone while walking along for at least 30'. It was like; I don't stop for throat clearing, because I am not really here for shopping anyhow (no basket), and besides, my throat wasn't that bad anyhow but needed to keep up the noise trace.  If I was allowed to be witty, I should of told him to keep his Corona virus to himself (a joke).

I reckon that perambulating throat clearing Fuckwit was an paid operative; they cannot rely on locals to look so absurd, never mind being able to keep a throat clearing act going for so long and consistent in tone. I have known the Psychopaths to screw with my throat function many thousands of times, at the most strangest of times, and even when on the move. I doubt if they would entrust a local person to pull this off the way they wanted, and too, reveal another of their invasive stunts; we can fuck with your throat, mucus in your throat and/or your vocal cords anytime or anywhere we want.

And what was with the dog barking coverage today? For at least two hours in the morning, a distant big dog bark that kept up. Later in the afternoon, the Pyrenees belonging to a vineyard house about 80m away, and kept in a pen, kept up the barking for at least an hour. Said dog's owner was there all the time, but she just put it outside in the pen and let it bark. Sometimes they let it out and the dog comes by and we play for a short span. And with no tractor activity these days, and the owner home, why didn't they let it out? They know I like the dog and it is no problem. (Or at least, none that I will confess to, protecting the dog's reputation and not saying anything about his tendency to chew on the vines to get my attention and keep the game going).

I met my new boss lady two days ago, in keeping with the Psychopath managed game of incremental introduction. Going back a few weeks ago I asked the vacationing boss via email who was my new foreman (woman as it turned out) and he didn't reply for a week. Another winery person I asked didn't know, and took three days to return my text. I finally got a name and a number and called the next day, introducing myself on her voice mail. A few days later I got a return call and negotiated which vineyard I was to work in. She said that she would come by Tuesday, after I started Monday, which she did. So all this back and forthing, voice mail and finally meeting took at least ten days. This kind of "incremental introduction", typically of someone I will have a longer association with, is straight out the Psychopath's playbook. In fact, nearly all my introductions to others have been like this since they went berserk/overt in 04-2002, and likely many before. Another variant is to have others talk the person up with name-dropping before I meet them.

Enough for a posting I reckon, as my regular weekly schedule seems to be getting interfered with.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Sloppy Snow

...sloppy snow, sloppy (or more like, slack) blog author...

My excuse is that I am power viewing Unsolved Mysteries, all 12 seasons on Prime. I usually catch a couple of episodes an evening and that is it for available time, such as for writing blogs. Though I must admit the comments on some of the Zero Hedge stories are quite entertaining and suit my political perspective to some extent. Plenty of shills and trolls though, and other acts promoting something irrelevant. Algorithms only go so far in being able to moderate human opinion.

Though I am coming to think that applying algorithms to apply the law and sentencing is a good idea; there are far too many shits getting away with murder from soft-on-crime judges (or just plain soft), and if they don't, they seem to end up with an inordinately short sentence. Doesn't life imprisonment mean imprisoned for life anymore? Its about time we automated the so-called justice system and quit making excuses for criminality. The only use for the judge would be to review the algorithmic determinations and/or review variances (=-10% only) and any egregious wrong outcomes, maximum of 2 per year. Otherwise, put the mofo in the clink and quit using the excuse that protracted justice is unjust, a ridiculous outcome of the Supremes here in Canada, aka, the "Jordan" decision. And quit using the Jordan decision, (or, if you prefer, the Supreme collusion for justice system sandbagging), as an excuse for the law enforcement to "focus" on violent crimes and ignore the rest. The law is written for a purpose, and as such it is expected to be enforced. More on this and related Unsolved Mystery episodes below.

Though to be fair, Canada isn't alone in its pursuit of degrading the application of the law and keeping the justice system hog-tied with slow processes and ignoring any sensible methods to radically improve throughput. That, along with the wimpy application of the law serves as another avenue to take down Western civilization IMHO. That, along with the immigration problem, another take-down avenue of significant dimension. Call it wilful self-excused incremental cultural and social degradation. FFS, weren't two world wars enough, along with the prior colonial exercises, purges, and other war campaigns of all manner of cultures and countries? ("Only" 203 million dead dead from wars , famines an purges in the 20th Century.) Apparently not enough if you are of TPTB, and have an experimental need to keep churning the human race for whatever nefarious objectives they keep.

Onto the prosaic; I am back in my residence in Penticton, having hustled here (driven) between the snow storms on the mountain passes to aid my landlord in driving them to the Kelowna airport so they don't have to park their vehicle for $15/day for 8 weeks. Well as it "happened", they "forgot" to tell me that I wasn't needed and came up with some lame-assed excuse as to the notion that since they aren't going for 12 weeks the "savings" can be applied to the parking charges. Like shit; when they changed their plans in mid-August from 12 weeks to 8 weeks away they re-affirmed my availability to do the airport driving and pick up, and I replied in the affirmative. So I scurried back from Victoria and took on winter driving earlier than I wanted, and lo, when on my return and asked about the arrangements beforehand, they claimed that they didn't need me. Sure, they saved paying me $200 as promised, but 8 weeks x 7 days/week x $15/day parking and we have a $840 parking bill. Or maybe they found some off-site airport parking, something I could not find when I flew from Kelowna a few years ago. Whatever; they could of told me about the change in plans, but didn't. Normal folk behaving strangely is nothing new since all this abuse and harassment came down 04-2002.

Christmas holidays are done now, thankfully. I did get to see my daughter in my once/year in-person contact, a new-found behavior enforced since this insane abuse-athon came down, as mentioned above. It just pisses me off that the one person who is fairly neutral in this has been largely kept from me, and that includes any kind of meaningful phone or other electronic communication. As an example, I heard from my mother that my daughter went to Mexico in 10-2019 about then, but my daughter never mentioned anything to me before or after. So in other words, the Psychopaths have ensured the degree of closeness is governed down, and with her, like most everyone else, I am largely kept clueless. As for the rest of the family quislings, aka, The First Feral Family, they can go fuck themselves. They were in on the scam/abuse from the get-go and knew of the intense abuse onset (perps gone berserk/overt in 04-2002) at least six years before it came down, and they said nothing. Furthermore, apart from the odd catch and curious statement, (see....) they played dumb and continue to do so. Fuck them all, everyone (daughter excepted, as she likely learned about the coming shit-storm and related fuckery only a year ahead).

 A TI recently commented on the perps' enforced estrangement between my daughter and I, and as one can tell, I am roundly pissed that my daughter has been largely kept from me and that the elephant-in-the-room, this abuse-athon in all it infamy and vileness, is never, ever, mentioned. As for the remainder of the comments, the use of psychiatric measures to contain and experiment on TI's is my experience as well. At least you have come to the personal realization that shrinks are corrupt, if not crazy. As for the remainder of the comments I could not read them as the Pending Comment page truncates the comment and I am deferring to your request to not publish them. (Only then would I be able to see them in full).

One of my Christmas visitation intentions was to find a particular photograph that was in my mother's collection of shoe-boxes. This photograph showed my younger brother at 16 months old in a stroller, myself aged 3-4 y.o, my mother and the unique backdrop of the wintertime street ice statues in Montreal. That would of unequivocally placed the photograph to early 1958 in Montreal. Which is roundly perturbing to me as this would of been my second Montreal stay, and the wintertime ice statues would of been even more vivid in my memory then. My first stay in Montreal was in 1956, and I was beginning to form my first permanent memories, and for the most part, poof they are all gone until back in Victoria in fall of 1959.

So who fucked my out of my recall from 1956 to 1959 while in Montreal for two visits, and other places as well? I know I don't ever forget where I lived anywhere, and here is a four year hole when making formative and vivid memories. As it "happens", I wasn't the only one getting recall deletion in Montreal as child then. Ann Diamond, a Canadian author, (blog also) also details some of these horrors of the McGill University's Allan Memorial Institute, the hospital where Dr. Ewen Cameron conducted his CIA sponsored brain trashing "research" from 1948-1962. She chronicles events in her book, My Cold War (another link). Another book, A Certain Girl seems to be a fictionalized version of her experiences. Also, her podcasts on this topic, and her interactions with another Montreal denizen of considerable note, Leonard Cohen, also in book form, The Man Next Door.

Back to the photograph that I was questing; I took my new flat bed scanner to Victoria on this visit and scanned a number of my mother's photographs, some being her mother's family, going back to the turn of the last century. This particular photograph "somehow" was sitting on a bureau in the spare bedroom where the shoe-boxes of photos where stored, presumably left for me to "find". It was so significant that I took it, and with a few others from my Seattle days of post 04-2002 when the Psychopaths first trashed my apartment and put on other highly invasive and unconventional displays of immobilizing technology, and got them scanned at a office services outfit. I returned my mother's photograph, (which, in hindsight, I should not of bothered with for all her disorganization), and kept the digital version. And what do I discover in my mother's photograph collection? Why, my own Seattle photographs, but not hers that I had put back. Anyhow, I did discover a few other photographs of that era, but none so uniquely definitive as the one that was placed for me to "find". And as it "so happens", the digital versions that I took "somehow" disappeared off this PC, multiple versions of them. Well done assholes; you bait me with the proof and then fuck me out of retaining a copy of it.

And somehow I thought that I had posted this aforementioned definitive photo on this here blog, and yet I cannot find it after manually searching for it.

Another anomaly in my mother's photo collection was the discovery of an envelope that contained a snippet of my daughter's first hair, before the second growth came in. This small memento was kept in my camera bag at the time, and lo, if "somehow" it didn't show up in my mother's photo album. [Re-take; perhaps this envelope was given to my mother by my ex (unbeknownst to me) and is not the envelope that went missing from my camera bag].

I have been on snow removal duty in the service of my absent landlord, per agreement. But as I have been on a propagation cane collection job in various vineyards, I have had to get up early to attend to snow clearing and then get ready for work. These 0500-0600h snow clearings are in the dark of course, but invariably there is someone with their headlights on and pointed at me from across the street or down the street each snow clearing episode. And often more than one vehicle. Just what is it that so compels the Psychopaths that they need to keep lights on me so often? This habit of theirs was evident since they went berserk/overt in 04-2002 and it has increased all the more in the last six months.

As part of the vine collection job I meet up with others at a nearby car pooling parking lot (about 0700h), and lo, if these trades dudes don't arrive with their vehicles around me, headlights on, and sit there transferring equipment and personnel around for 5 to 10 minutes. Said trades dudes also have ladders on their vehicles, another long running harassment operation prop for unknown reasons. I suppose, with all their attention on me and what vehicle I am in, they need extra coverage/energetic interaction (or whatever) while I am entering another vehicle, or else others climb into mine. They even put some babes dithering around their vehicle in some kind of ride sharing activity, all in keeping with having attractive women as a kind of foil or alternative to dude swarming me.

And the large amount of highway traffic at 0700h in snowy and inclement driving conditions has also been noticed. Again, I suppose if I am traveling with co-workers, riding in their vehicle and later working with them in the vineyard, it is just too good to give up the opportunity to grind me all the more with headlights and other selected energetic disruptions.

I was ice wine picking last week for two days as an Arctic front came in and caused temperatures to get below -8C, the "magic moment" specification for the grapes to be later pressed to extract 35Brix juice. (More like syrup). I worked two vineyards one day, and a full second day, and was roundly tired afterward. I haven't been able to partake in ice wine picking since 2013 due to timing and other issues, so it was nice to pick up some easy cash for my efforts. My crew mates from the cane propagation job were also on these crews, so I suppose it might be considered coverage continuity. And in doing ice wine picking, it is as a "flock", picking together so again, closer than normal proximity to all my picking colleagues.

I also met up with two associates from prior vineyard jobs in the past 5 years; as before, they were friendly and conversant. None of the "don't know you" act that I get so often. And too, it was nice to be a known quantity in a herd of 40 or so.

I was a big fan of Unsolved Mysteries in the 1990's, but I never got to see even half of them due to other evening commitments and events. I have long sought to see the entire series and catch up on the updates, and was glad that Amazon Prime put them on their video offerings. Hence the binge watching of Unsolved Mysteries these past three months, usually no more that two episodes per day. Since I the onset of this abuse-athon and exposure to all manner of unconventional technologies and inflictions, along with seeing a bigger picture out there in terms of human history, I don't view nonfiction shows with the same perspective as I formerly did. Perhaps one could call it a jaundiced perspective after being put through the mill (and continuing) of unconventional abuse. And I have begun to notice some common themes in the more unsavory events, excluding the "Lost Loves" and similar feel-good episodes.

One theme I notice is that the police, charged with investigating the crime, seem in many cases to be reluctant to do a thorough job, particularly with many apparent suicide events, usually disputed by the victim's family. In these, the police just don't want to know, and even the prosecutor jumps in and refuses to re-cast the assigned death as "suspicious" or "homicide", even in light of later information that clearly points to another explanation, often after the grieving family has exhumed the body and had it professionally re-examined.

Often in these cases, the victim seems to signal themselves in advance by doing something peculiar to attract attention, though unrelated to their later demise. In one instance, a young man traveling  by vehicle from Alaska to Washington State through British Columbia, Canada, is stopped at the Alaska-Yukon border because he is carrying a handgun which is not permitted in Canada. (The border officials always ask Americans if they are carrying firearms into Canada, and as he was the son of two medical doctors, surely he would of been better prepared). Said man later ends of dead from a hitchhiker he took on, but even the nature of picking up this person just seems odd in detail, and not filling up at this outpost when it was his intention to do so. With long distances between settlements in northern BC it is imperative that one fill up one's tank. I found there was some discontinuity in the details, and of course, the perpetrator was never found.

In another Unsolved Mysteries episode, a military soldier hangs himself, which "happens" to be three weeks before his good friend at another base also does the same. The story focuses mostly on one of these two apparent suicides, but what I found curious was that it was on a Sunday, and the soldier happened to forget that he was to be on duty that morning and someone from the unit went to his on-base accommodation to inform him that he was required for duty. The soldier was dressed in civilian clothes when he was informed, and said that he would change into uniform and join his unit. He never did, and was later found dead from a self inflicted hanging. It just seems so curious that this soldier with an impeccable record somehow "forgot" to show up for duty that morning, was clearly unprepared when informed, and then suicided. Like as if he wanted to be noticed before he did himself in, a highly unlikely scenario IMHO. For the record, there were many other anomalies that put this apparent suicide in the suspicious column, not just my own perspectives.

Another example of signalling was a victim, who in advance, visits a number of colleagues in the small Colorado town where he lives, and then heads out hiking, and not particularly dressed for the conditions, at about 1600h into the mountains in winter. That is absurd; any winter time hiker would set of early, be well prepared and supply a route to another party. A few years later his body is discovered in the woods.

In at least two other instances of Unsolved Mystery episodes the police seem genuinely reluctant to consider other evidence and testimony related to deaths from satanic abuses. Perhaps nothing new there for those who know more about this particular angle, though it is not one I have known in any way. Perhaps this link (warning:a horrific read) to the goings on in Asheville NC would explain more. You know, just the "usual; members of the judiciary, police, hospital, school system etc. are in on it.

I could do a lengthy TI's analysis of many Unsolved Mysteries episodes from the perspective that "nothing is what it seems", which is where TI's come from, almost by definition. But I shall refrain, as this would be surely an arcane and speculative thread that only TI's would benefit from.

And another online discovery of all things unconventional is this corker of a treatise by Donald Marshall. The gist of story seems credible, though quite unconventional, gruesome and ultimately perturbing; e.g. cloning of humans, alien invasion of humans (body snatching), gladiator fights to the death, etc. Some of the historical speculations are a little off IMHO. And the particular underground military base cannot be far from where I live, or where my brother lives. It is quoted as "five hours from Vancouver" (BC), which places it either near Kamloops or Kelowna (assuming it is driven). The former is at the confluence of the Thompson and Fraser rivers, and becomes the Fraser River from there to tidewater at Vancouver, BC and may explain the incidences of the severed feet showing up on coastal shores.

The theme of cloning humans and the clone's particular inability to have consciousness while the subject (a "real") is awake does seem to play into the Psychpaths nonconsensual human experimentation objectives as I have come to know them as an experimental subject/victim. Specifically the perps' need to noisestalk me (or applying other coincidental intrusive external stimuli, eg. maser balls flying at me) at the very moment of awareness (consciousness) has long been noted. It is also curious that they had me watch Spartacus series recently, having a blood and gore component that I didn't care for, but which is part of these profoundly disturbing regular viewing events of the selected audience at this military base. It brings me back to the film, "They Live", and this select group who live among us who are in the know and are called for at certain times. Though who would of dreamed up this macabre activity theme? Obviously, (to me at least), it is the continuation of the perps' well established need for having life snuffed out while viewed by others, be it entertainment, war or other means, simulated or real. And now, with another parameter, is the life a clone or the original?

So which is it, Kamloops or Kelowna? (you will need to zoom in somehow on the above map; since MS Snip is such a wretched piece of ergonomic obstruction, I could not put geographic markers on. And MS Paint won't save anything any more). The "missing feet" discoveries identified in the above link point to Kamloops by way of these body parts floating down the Fraser River and mixing with the tidewaters surrounding Vancouver Island, both north and south. Though Kelowna has the second most frequent UFO sightings in Canada, a party that doubtless has a huge interest in all this covert and depraved activity. I don't know for sure, but for other experiences I won't get into, I pick the former. And too, one must keep a perspective that this too may all be disinformation.

But, should human clones be a reality, it would serve the purposes of conventionally bound law enforcement organizations to find a heavily decomposed  body a few years later for which the DNA matched the victim/subject's. Hmmm.... a little too out-there to put that on Unsolved Mysteries.

Anyhow, a tour through recent goings on as well as some of my more recent macabre findings and speculations on possible connections. What this blog is about, if it is not recording the slings and arrows of being a TI and all its unconventional experiences, and thereby, perspectives.

Sunday, January 05, 2020

They Live; indeed they may well do

I saw the film "They Live" (1998) tonight. Both the main actor Roddy Piper and the director, John Carpenter, later said it was as documentary. Call it street people meeting up with science fiction, though not too much fiction given my experiences as a TI. Teleportation of personnel on demand; seen it. The police as the lap dogs of TPTB; had it done to me. Ubiquitous Fuckwits in a curious choreography that has  the target's every move anticipated; I live it. The film has been called the original "Matrix". No choices in colored pills in my experience though. Nowadays it is down to a dull roar of gangstalking my ass, even for the little that I get out and about, especially in the guise of current Christmas time activity. And those funky sunglasses of the film, where the protagonists discover them and then are able to see aliens from normal humans, as well as the subliminal advertising. Just could be a "coincidence", (a loaded term, if there ever was), but a considerable number of the Fuckwits/gangstalkers do wear sunglasses in the most absurd circumstances; rainy winter days or when there is low and dingy overcast in the winter here.

But for FFS, why so much coverage of me with lighting pointed at me (aka pit-lamping) now? Every time I enter or exit my vehicle, the shopping mall, or other buildings. And not just one set, often a vehicle, but now two sets, usually at right angles or thereabouts. And across the street in the opposite lane-way, there has been someone "happening" to be in a vehicle with their headlights pointed at me about 80% of the time for the past six years when I get in or out of my vehicle where it is parked at my residence. Well, I suppose that got tired, so they replaced this over-obvious activity with a set of three newly-installed fixed lights on a garage that seem to be on all the time at night. Which may well complement the recent (09-2019) garage to two storey carriage house conversion in the adjacent back lane that "happens" to leave their outside lights on all the time, day and night. As to why the Psychopaths need to pummel me with bright lights all the time, especially for moments of vehicle and building egress, I don't know, but they have been absolutely consistent with this from the day they first went berserk/overt in 04-2002. That is, the onset of overt and highly abusive harassment.

And the parked vehicle squatting/stalking has increased of late. I first noticed this change in public behavior a week before the onset of their berserk/overt abuse-athon of 04-2002. I was at a grocery store that I formerly frequented when I lived in Everett WA, even though I was living in Seattle WA at the time. (I would drive S from the border on Sunday evenings  on the I-5 and get my week's groceries there, as I knew the store and could get off and on the freeway readily). I could not figure out why all these males were sitting in their vehicles in the parking lot outside the grocery store, like there was some kind of drug distribution  going on. I even mentioned it to my boss, who surely must of known that I had noted it anew, and he was possibly assigned to elicit my suspicions. Dial it forward some 17.5 years of relentless harassment and fuckery, and this public behavior, at this aforementioned level of occurrence, has returned anew. Obviously I am going to park in more remote areas of  parking lots and draw them to me to make it more obvious, something they don't like to do. (Which they will likely counter by populating the parking lot with more vehicles and ensuring their wider dispersion).

Two days of highway blocking snow storms, today and yesterday, have prevented me from traveling to Victoria, as if this junket wouldn't be short enough. Yesterday all three routes were blocked, the lowest elevation route happened to have an rock fall rather than a snow storm. Well done, coincidence managers.

I saw the oncologist yesterday in Kelowna; my PSA score went up a little, when it had been down below 1.0 for the last two biannual visits. More tests and wait and see. Other diversionary banter took up the time, and likely I got mind-blanked too, as I wanted to get on with these infernal side-effect symptoms that have annoyed me for the last two years. I was told that would take two years to ameliorate, which they haven't. And now that two years is done, I want some action. But no, not allowed.

 New Year and all; same harassment shit. They even made a point of this on New Year's eve, then 30 minutes into the New Year, by scrambling me over my usual bedtime routine. The forced "forgets", forced finger fumbling, etc., just the "usual" shit. "Happy New Year" came through on the telepathic channel. "Fuck You" was my response on the native channel.

I am now back in my residence in Penticton, having drove Hwy 5 on 01-02-2020. I got ahead of a incoming storm, though in places at the lower elevations it was decidedly wet. The Coquihalla Pass route was slippery in sections with packed snow on the surface. The "usual" problem in these circumstances is the greater variation in driving speeds. The scared shitless creepers through to the senseless "just like dry pavement" drivers. Add in some highly annoying twits that have a habit of braking excessively for no reason, aka the "binder minders", and it is just like past winter driving experiences. I also saw a upside down vehicle in the opposite lane, but thankfully it was a freeway section. About a half hour I saw an ambulance on its way. But given the peculiar behavior of some drivers on this route in winter, who decide to ignore lane signs and park in the third lane for whatever reason, no wonder there are problems.

Two weeks with my perp-abetting mother doddering about, and not seeming to use her hearing aids, was sufficient to do my Christmas visitation duty. The city of Victoria was at its gangstalking best, per usual. I didn't get out much due to my limited visitation time, the inclement weather, but as always, I was forced to because of some items I "forgot". And the gangstalking assholes poured it on the most at the LD store; at least 8 of these Fuckwits "shopping" by standing around and doing their bend overs and no picking anything up. I had three locations in the store to go to, one of them being obscure, and they had Fuckwits posted at each of them for extended durations for no seeming reason.

I took my flatbed scanner down to digitize a number of my mother's pictures, but in keeping with the usual perp fuckery, the job didn't get finished because they NEVER let me finish a new job. They just love to have uncompleted work hang over one's head for as long as they can. I could never figure this one out, but it has been so highly consistent that it a given. An alternative in the work site is to have someone else finish my work. Whatever. Just go fuck yourselves and leave me alone.

The one picture that I wanted to find and digitize was the one that was formerly digitized back in about 2009, and "somehow" disappeared off my computer. It showed me at about three years old, with my 16 month old brother in a stroller, with my mother in front of a backdrop of Montreal's wintertime frozen public sculptures. For "some reason" my mother had left it out and I saw it, and I at once realized that the photo placed me in Montreal in 1958-59 for which I have no recollection for. I was aware that I have a three year recall deletion over this period, but this photo unequivocally placed me in time and location and yet I have no recall of being there then. And I have never, ever, forgot where I lived at any location, and I was first forming permanent memories aged 26 months, that being Montreal. As best as I can recall, this was a first Montreal stay, my father beginning his PhD studies  at McGill. The aforementioned photo shows that my brother was about 16 months old, so it had to be a second and later stay, as I don't recall having any sibling the first stay.
At the time I digitized the above photo I also digitized some of my Seattle photographs of 2002, that detailed the anomalous "modifications" the assholes did to my apartment after they went berserk/overt in 04-2002. (I took the photographs to digitizing service then, as I did not own a scanner then).  [And I thought that I had posted this photo to this blog at the time, but cannot find the posting].

As to why my photos got mixed with my mother's I have no idea. I wouldn't be so stupid to take my mother's photo, "borrow it" in effect, to scan it with some of my own, and then "somehow" dump all of them back when returning my mother's photo. I should of just kept it, for all that she remembers them anyhow, though her capacity for recall of this era seems to be highly variable. And perhaps for strategic purposes and not revealing as to what went on, and was I given the Dr. Ewen Cameron treatment, Canada's very own brain damaging doctor, supposedly in the cause of research, who also "happened" to be at McGill, during his reign of terror and error. Abetted by visitations of Dr. Mengele if the many sightings of this uber-mind damager doctor are correct, which I believe they are. Surely there must be a specialist category of doctors who engage in non-consensual human experimentation and too, cause brain damage? I don't know Latin well enough to develop a clinical category that adequately describes this particular form of clinical treachery.

Though I did find some photos that placed me in snowy conditions during that period, but none that unequivocally place me in Montreal. Once I get the digitized photos compiled, I shall put some in this blog.

Another "find" was an envelope of my daughter's hair, aged two. (Her first crop of hair was being replaced by a second crop at the time). This envelope was always in my camera bag but mysteriously went missing, and I assumed the ex had stolen it. Again, I don't know how she knew it was there as I never told anyone. But "somehow" in the middle of my mother's photo collection, there it was. This wouldn't be the first time that something was mysteriously went missing and was found in peculiar circumstances, and won't likely be the last.

Anyhow, enough of this posting and to get it launched.