Post Covid-19 Scare

07-06-1954
My birthday today, double sixes in fact, and some kind of relevance to those who do numerology and all the rest of the supposed portent these numbers bring. I couldn't care less about that kind of stuff.

Even my ex sent me a birthday email, which the asshole hasn't done for the last 20+ years, so what gives?

A day in the vineyard, muscling through yet more hand tucking, as the boss man couldn't be bothered to get the second tucking wire out of the way before the tendrils latched on en masse. Normally, with the wires out of the way, preferably below, then one brings them up and the pair of them contain the shoots vertically without any tendril attachments. Some hand tucking is needed to straighten them out but not much. It could of been done in a week this way, but no, the boss said no to moving the wire and by default that meant have the vineyard worker (me) take three weeks to do it manually. Like, there isn't enough else to do? Of course there is; June and July are intense vine shoot growing periods here not to mention the so-called "suckers" (shoots from the base) that need to be removed (again). And another round of shoot thinning.

And besides, the owners (a couple) never ask me how it is going, what progress I am making, you know, the normal supervisor concern about task completion. And they rarely visit me while doing the job, like they don't need to know what quality level I am doing. Bizarre to say the least. Even last Friday, I come into the tasting room to purchase a bottle of wine as a visitor is in town, and the owner (female) doesn't even ask me how it is going in a general sense. I hadn't seen her in weeks, and she doesn't even ask anything about the job. I only work there M-F, 8 hours a day for crissakes.

I told the owner (male, the more active managerial one) two weeks ago he needed extra help on tucking and he told me he had someone lined up. And what do I get? One person a week later for one day FFS. It does cause me to ponder if I haven't been sandbagged in some way; keep the victim doing a job the slow way when it could of been done 3x faster. All fitting with the Psychopath's agenda of slowing up the victim in engaging in any task whatsoever.

As in competence sabotage; a simple job, now my 8th year of vineyard work, and the Psychopaths dither my finger control to cause the trellis clips (that pull the wires together to better contain the shoots so they don't move) in my hand to suddenly eject outward, and are lost for good. Thanks a bunch assholes. Which explains why I dare not take any assembly job as parts will flip, fly, or eject (beome unconventionally extra kinetic) and my finger control suddenly becomes extra clumsy. Add in the time contraint, say, of being on an assembly line, and the Psychopaths have me totally panicked, stressed and intensely annoyed. They like that, stressing the victim any which way possible, again and again, the same tasks every fucking day.

Another owner stunt was a few months ago when a colleague mentioned my boss (female) made a video on pruning vines and put it on Youtube where he saw it. It was news to me, and annoying news at that, as I had just completed pruning the whole five acres of the vineyard myself, and she never mentioned any video creation, and nor did she ask me about any input. So, the boss lady puts out an educational video on pruning and doesn't mention any of it to me who did all the pruning in the vineyard, save three rows. Pruning is like driving, you don't get any better or knowledgeable until you do it as there are a considerable number of contingent principles and rules that one must consider.

One has to laugh, but also one has to wonder why they are so disengaged when they have a four year employee who is responsible, reliable and knowledgeable, if I may toot my horn some. One usually doesn't get this in agriculture labor for long (or at all), never mind four years working there. I could go on about this perverse disconnect of my current employer association, but if nothing else it is as consistent as it is incomprehensible, given their amiable personalities. I don't get it, unless it is being governed by someone who does not want more of an engaging relationship.

Speaking of which, the First Feral Family all went sideways on me when all this harassment and abuse came on in 04-2002, and the assholes haven't let up since. Playing dumb got them a few months at first, but it became tiresome and then obvious someone was managing my family interaction to be as limited as possible. (And when I realized the assholes were in on this since the get-go, they somehow knew and cut off the last few lines of intelligent questioning and haven't mentioned a thing since, about 16 years). But not to an antagonistic level though, but I do my part at least, and maintain the perspective of Fuck Them All. I don't initiate much with them, but respond normally according to any of theirs if limited. More strange (and managed) interpersonal weirdness IMHO.

And a continuing level of weirdness and fuckery in my existence. The Covid plandemic in all its much hyped "second round", "rebound" and the rest of the Lamestream Media information feed, has kept the physical distancing going, with the odd Fuckwit suddenly erupting to get in close. The gangstalking has become more obvious, but not more frequent, and the "usual" tag teaming is more subtle. One Fuckwit in the supermarked did an 180 degree turn around behind me as I was about to pick an item off the shelf. This would of been a decision moment (for me), a much stalked and harassed moment of High Fuckery for the Psychopaths. Said Fuckwit continued to keep hanging around and seemed to know what aisle I would be in next after bailing on my intended path after seeing the Fuckwit posted exactly where I wanted to go. A straight giveaway are the Fuckwits who stand there at the chocolate section, always a regular stop for me, and so I bail and go elsewhere to finish my shopping, and the same Fuckwit is still standing there some 10 minutes later.

The 180 degree turnarounds by vehicular stalkers has also increased. Today, when departing the vineyard parking lot at 1600h, a white vehicle drives in and I figure they are going to the winery tasting room. But no, the Fuckwit turns around and follows me out, having just got a break in the traffic on Naramata Road, the Fuckwit going back the way he came. If I get too pissed with these fucker they invariably have them take a turn before long. Whether this is to defuse my annoyance or to lower the obviousness level I don't know. Same difference to me; quit fucking stalking me asshole. There have been other winery parking lot turnaround episodes, about two per month, and have increased over the past 4 months. All to do with the ansiotropic properties of space, and having different energy properties in different directions.

A blatant extraconventional piece of fuckery a few days ago. I was lying in bed intending to sleep and they must of telepathically posted something humorous in my subconscious. I was aware of a (seeming genuine) humorous thought, but I could not say exactly what it was (conscious thought), and it was slightly funny, and they must of re-posted it or else augmented it slightly, and I still thought it was humorous. And then poof, some kind of EMF pulse (or like) went through my whole head and a coincident knock on a panel some 20' away. I have had these before, more in the earlier days when a conscious thought got the same Psychopathic extraconventional reaction; a flash of light and a noise and a sensation of a pulse of something traveling through me. This seems to be the first time they have done this test with a planted subconscious telepathic notion.

The last one like this was about a year ago when they put a pair of nice looking babes in front of me at yoga and I was checking them out, and liked what I saw, re-affirmed it, and then poof, a sudden one second burst of a plasma cloud in front of me. No pulse though.

Other fuckery that has increased of late is the existence of plasma and light properties altering events. The masers, the black fuzzy or sometimes linear features, that float around with abandon, and can even track my vision on a printed page. Time to put down the book then when it gets down to point-of-vision stalking. I come in the door at my residence, and they put on this squished up, or crinkled light distortion pattern inside. The same one for three days running.

Long time readers and TI's will know that ANY passage through a doorway or even a gate will cause the Psychopaths to put on extra noise-stalking and other fuckery. Never mind the fact that they routinely (near 100%, normally they don't like to keep a regular harassment beat) piss me off when getting out the door to work every day. I could be late, the shoelaces flip all over the place (extra kinetic), the bootlaces keep missing the hooks on the boots, something is forgotten and just recalled, and hundreds of other jerkarounds to piss me off, usually intensely before getting out the door. Add in a few back and forths to/from the vehicle to get another "forgotten" item, and I am rage-ified every work day in getting there. Thanks bunch assholes. All about exiting one place and passing through a door to crossing the outside lawn (20') and then through a gate (also a moment of high fuckery as they like to pull the keys from my fingers) and getting to my vehicle, another 20' away. And what is it about these simple actions of leaving a house and entering my vehicle that so interests an annual billion dollar budget Psychopathic organization that they need to hound the absolute piss out of me for 18 years and counting?

I have no idea, and don't care. Just leave me the fuck alone, I have been abused enough for 100 lifetimes. As I mentioned in an earlier posting; I'd rather done my time in Guantanamo Bay; I would of been out in seven years and set up on some faraway place, courtesy of Uncle Sugar.

On a more analytical note, I suspect one's energy interactions with the ground energy (charge field in the parlance of Miles Mathis' profound work) in passing from living quarters (on a carpeted concrete pad) to lawn to gravel to asphalt and then seated in a vehicle. If nothing else, the Psychopaths have been very persistent and consistent in hounding my ass at moments of egress (buildings, between rooms, in and out of vehicles etc.). And also getting out of my vehicle, as often one of my employers "happens" to be passing by.

And so it goes, and I will call this a posting, even if I intended to keeping this one ticking over for a few more weeks. Here it is, back to life as a prisoner in disguise. Or, more accurately, as a human nonconsensual experimentation subject, in situ.