Tiresome Tie-downs

03-20-2018
Somehow I cut my finger with the pruner blade (another forced fumble) just after they had been sharpened, and then they pulled a phlegm emitting cough, then pulled another bowel sensation, related to the post radio-therapy side effect issue now four months long. I find it fascinating they can script all these bodily sensations/events within a minute. This has happened in the past, again, phlegm related as it seems it can arrive in one's through without benefit of cold or any lung congestion sensation.

I then got a band-aid from my vehicle to then slow me up and the other guy caught up and then passed me when his row was shorter, so he went to the adjacent row, instead of us alternating rows. All these games over who starts what row, and the relative timing with respect to co-workers has been going on for over a decade of farm work now.

As for vineyard work and tying down; every year it is the same; this activity requiring lots of fine motor coordination gets dithered and fumbled to piss me off. In 2015 and 2016, the boss lady was a productivity maven and was on my ass both years as I wasn't fast enough. In fact it is the perp assholes who are misdirecting the tool, pulling my hand off the cane (and having it hit me in the face), moving the cane so it isn't held down, breaking the tie down wire etc., so of course it takes longer. I average about 4-6 mis-directed events per vine; sometimes the delay is minimal, sometimes longer, but it adds up when one is doing this all day long. No wonder no one gets a tying machine that would be faster, then there would be considerably less opportunity to harass the victim.

The vine on the right is pruned, but not tied down to the trellis wire, but the others are, except those of the yellowish color in the background which have not yet been pruned.

03-21-2018
Tying down, not nearly beset with forced finger fumbling as yesterday. But instead, an increase of an extant problem; the bowel damage from last fall's radiotherapy is still a problem, and was made worse today. Am I ever fed up with pissing and poo-ing problems, something the perps have hammered me with since they first went berserk/overt in 04-2002, nearly 16 years ago. And of course, they exploit the side effects of the radiotherapy treatment, just as I predicted. Its just that it was four months ago and should be getting better. Had I a spare $85k USD sitting around, I would of got proton beam therapy and avoided this latest exacerbation of the ongoing shit show.

03-22-2018
Can we have enough pit-lamping the victim when in his vehicle having lunch? Apparently not, as the assholes laid on two pickup trucks who offloaded insulation from a delivery truck that ferried the smaller loads to the house being built, 200m away on a muddy road. As if that wasn't obvious, one pickup was white, the other red, all in keeping with popular gangstalking vehicle color combinations. (And emulated by backup lights and brake lights on together). And to make it more obvious, one pick up truck had some items in it, and the driver placed them 6" from my parked vehicle while I was inside having lunch. One item being a ladder, an exceeding popular gangstalking accessory.

A rainy day today, on and off, and then it got serious at 1630h, just when we were about to finish up at 1700h. The boss man joined us, and we then finished tying down this block of vines. I did not have rain gear on, though a ski coat which is breaking up (somehow) held up for the most part. The driving rain of the last half hour ran through my pants, long johns, and into my boots. Well done; any earlier and I would of got my serious rain gear.

Some strange emanations are coming off this LCD display tonight, and last night. Back in 2005-2006 this was especially noticeable when I returned from a hike, usually 5 hours. They would just hammer my eyes with some kind of emanations off the LCD display to the point that I could not read it at times. Though this time, in keeping with the latest BS stream of ceasing hostilities "soon" (they say), they are winding me down, as in diminishing my level of being charged. I don't know of course, and couldn't give a shit, with the usual rejoinder of; leave me the fuck alone and everything will be just fine. Though with a lifetime of covert harassment, these assholes don't have a concept of that in the least. They keep using the word "soon" in all of this, and I keep telling them that "soon" means tomorrow to me, so quit using this ridiculous generality. After nearly 16 years of this intense abuse, aka, abuse-athon, another day of it is too much. So if they are telling me they are dialing down the irradiation (of whatever kind it is), it probably means they are really increasing it again, just like in the days of 2005-6 for increased rounds of whatever nonconsensual research they are doing. The increase in pit-lamping since early 2018 seems to support this. But as always, this is one big poker game, and the deception plan is as important as the real plan, even if I don't know the difference.

And onto the long game prediction; I see that the black colored ski jacket I purchased for winter time vineyard work is breaking up; that is, the seams are somehow wearing out and the whole thing is going to literally fall apart at the seams. So... after extensive looking at my usual sources and coming up with nothing, I go to a reputable manufacturer and find a suitable ski jacket on sale. And in three colors, and lo, if the all black version, my preferred color as the work scuzz won't show, isn't available in my size, but blue and black combination is. And lo, if it isn't the same blue as the solid color ski jacket I have for street wear. (Which was purchased for vineyard work, but I liked the color and realized that it would get scuzzed up). So it would seem they are preparing me for next year's vineyard work in the winter time by wearing a jacket that is the color combination of two of my former solid color ski jackets. All in keeping with their infernal and relentless games over which color of clothing I wear.

 This jet black ski jacket has the sleeves folded together to show the wear, (imposed wear IMHO) on the sleeve seams and cuffs. The fabric is worn through where it is light colored, yet nowhere else on the garment. Can we have enough ski jacket fuckery?

03-24-2018
Can we not have enough interruption games in the morning. I am one minute into vineyard work when the boss man comes to chat about nothing much. I just get going again, with the headphones on, and my co-worker comes to work on the tying down, to then interrupt me again. So I wore my headphones at my neck, and chatted while we worked near each other as we were starting a new block. All in keeping with the perps' long running habit of interrupting me when I start a new clone or varietal block at every vineyard I have worked in the past 6 years. After a half hour of working and chatting with my co-worker, the assholes then grind me to need to take a shit, so off to the crapper I go. This is highly uncharacteristic for me to need to go then, especially of late with the 3x/evening games that have gone on since 01-2018. Two more pit lampings from traffic passing by on their way to the house construction, then I go to my vehicle after my crap to get Immodium, and lo, if there isn't the vineyard owner there putzing with the garbage cans she somehow "forgot" to attend to when she has been absolutely on top of it every time before, as the garbage cans are out when I get there every Friday morning. Then she decides to putz with the adjacent landscape plant and prunes the part that is passing through the fence. Does this intense victim coverage ever fucking end?

03-25-2018
Sunday, and I did 6 hours of work on tie-downs in the vineyard. Only because it was nice weather, unlike two days ago when the snow was flying, and the day before that, when the rain came down sideways. A relatively calm day from the gangstalking coverage, though someone next door saw fit to pit lamp me as I was leaving and was momentarily held up when finding a vine that wasn't tied down, and then attending to it for all of a minute or less. The perps' timing is impeccably precise, every time. And if they go off time, say I speed up, they will dither my fingers to then slow me down again.

A calm day in the vineyard, but the vehicular gangstalking was on in streams of black vehicles, then white ones, then black ones. They were all over my ass two nights ago when I set off to the grocery store, so it seems that vehicular gangstalking is playing big. (And exposures to headlights are inevitable).

Last night when in bed they were keeping me awake and agitated (turning over and over) and I told them out loud to let me get to sleep and leave me the fuck alone. It was most astonishing, because within two minutes they let me fall into sleep. I cannot count the number of times they have kept me up for hours, and I tell them, and scream at them, that I want to get to sleep, all to no avail. And sometimes they have me stay awake all night for whatever reason. (And I routinely don't suffer a sleep deficit either). This would be the first time EVER that they have respected my request to let me sleep.

Back in the high disruption days of 06-2003, it was very noticeable that I was being kept awake and it occurred after swimming at the pool with the swim club. I was staying at my perp abetting parents then, (somehow couldn't find a place) and after an hour of thrashing around in bed, my father would go downstairs to the half basement and putz there for a minute, and come up the stairs with someone else, either following or beside him. The configuration of the stairwell was that it passed by my bedroom (other side of the wall), turned on the main floor, and then passed underneath my bedroom. Within five minutes of these peculiar excursions, with outside "help" (gangstalking by an external operative/shill- maybe someone I would of known), I would routinely fall asleep for the night. There were at least ten of these events and they were exactly consistent. It was only in 09-2003 when the new swim club season started, and after they took my fees for the year, that it was apparent that the swim club members were gangstalking too, that is, closing in on me uncharacteristically. So I gave up that. My discussions with the treasurer of the swim club were such that I indicated that I was getting gangstalked (like I had been in Seattle), and he said "hang in there, its worth it". Not that he returned my fees of course, all in keeping with the financial screw-over component of this senseless and relentless abuse-athon.

As mentioned in prior blog postings of late, and above, I am consistently getting the "vibe" (aka, planted notions, even momentary and passing ones) that all the perp hostilities are going to cease, "soon". (Perhaps 150x/day, rather high.) Again, it is a notion that I routinely reject as I have been through many of these imposed scenarios, and all have come to naught.

Given the mouse sabotage of late on this PC, even after I cleaned it out of gobs of debris, it is time to call this posting done for the week.

Feral Family Visitations

12-28-2012
Back from a trip to Kamloops for Christmas, such that I regard these events, as from this perspective they seem to fit perp purposes of new juxtapositions of objects (e.g. trees, holly in the house), and of course, all the packaging in its myriad of colors and materials.

I drove my perp-abetting mother's Ford Escape with the new snow tires, certainly a big perp event given their games over tires, rotational objects, and the very ground I stand or drive over. They organized some drivers to pass, then slow down, and then speed up when I passed them. One vehicle/driver did this four times in 15 minutes, ahead of a long sweeping 90 degree arc into Kamloops. For the most part, the perps cooperated on the weather as I climbed the mountain pass, so no undue manipulations there thankfully.

But it was an all in the family gangstalking, plus a friend of my bother came to stay for two days. He of the boarding house reach, just about planting his armpit onto my Christmas dinner, the fucking asshole. Why I didn't jab the fucker with my fork and do a "sorry" is a tribute to mindfucking. He knew he was going to get away with it in advance.

What was interesting to know was that one of them would tail me down the stairs each night I went to bed. Then in the evening when I was headed downstairs, before bedtime, the 7 yt.o niece was tailing me. I look back, and I get this guilty stupid face and then I got it; the freaking kid is on gangstalking duty now. Some Christmas, everyone in the family plus one, gangstalking me. My brother was in on getting way too close, doing mysterious "stand there" stunts and moving his feet toward mine under the table. The perps had me busy doing audio digitizing on a laptop while there. Then they fucked me in attempting to write the files to a DVD disc, something they  have done at least 40x before in the last ten years of this insane abuse. Somehow, I didn't remember that in advance, and so the files just sit there, of no use to me. The notion of bypassing this fuckery by getting a USB stick somehow didn't "happen" until today, two days after the fact.

As part of the play games there, the WII Fitness measured me at 96kg, some 10kg more than last year when I visited them. And so it would seem that the perps put 22lb onto me over the last year and no one has mentioned a thing. I started farm work earlier this year, in April, and worked outside on farm/viticulture until early November. More physical work activity this year than any other since this insane abuse began in 04-2002, and "somehow" I got puffed up for an extra 22lb. Lucky me, as I was 190lb before, already 15lb overweight to begin with. But as obesity is nearly an North American epidemic, it strikes me that this would be yet another perp movement to study the population large, so to speak.

And for the record, the perps won't let me get in shape; any running or treadmill activity is met with a sudden wall of feeling tired after a few minutes, to to the point of not being able to continue. I never experienced this level of exhaustion in my whole life prior to the perps outing themselves as the master of all my activities and thoughts.

Other bullshit over the First Feral Family get together was an increase in dumbshitting me; playing extra dumb for whatever reason, if nothing else, to annoy me. Why is every one going stupid on me? All to set me up to have someone tell me that I am smart if past history repeats, as it surely will.

A stay-in day mostly; just when I was set to do backyard work, why, the rain started up. Funny how that happens.

Other low-lights from the FFF abetting; my perp abetting mother brings along a 2 liter insulated jug of tap water for the drive from Victoria to Kamloops, (5 hour drive, plus a 1.5 hour ferryh ride). And lo, if the only thing she takes from the vehicle to my brother's house is that same jug, as I did all the other unpacking, she of apparent limited arthritic ability. And she dumps the water down their kitchen sink; we hadn't drunk from it, or used it any way. I never buy her dithering dipshit act, as this kind of perp abetting testing of transported water is straight of the perp testing regimen.

On the second day of the parked and mostly emptied vehicle, my perp-abetting mother goes on about her sweater being in the vehicle and some other items. It is true that I left them in the vehicle, but I didn't see a compelling need for them. But I didn't quite get how she knew those items were in the vehicle in the first place as she hadn't a need for them. Normally, this might of begun as "have you seen my xxx sweater somewhere, as I had it out when in the vehicle". Then I could understand how she came to miss it, and then ask for it. All these little tells to go along with the faux coughing games.

And too, the hot water supply downstairs where we were staying went on the fritz. No shower for the last two days, and the last one with no shaving at all. Straight out of the perp harassment play book.

12-29-2012
My perp-abetting mother has cranked up the hindering games now; this unerring knack of being exactly where I want to go, or was, is getting so tired. Not bad for the chronic ditz act.

A full-on freakshow at the grocery store; not too mention the stocking/stalking carts being in each aisle I went to. Then an obstruction stunt at the checkout with my mother doing the extra protracted dither-about stunt after paying. Clearly, the perps are still onto something as to what financial transactions are.

Then leaf raking in the afternoon, the rain coming on just before getting outside and continuing all the time.

Then to visit my in-town brother for dinner, he of the perennial orange colored food; carrots and yams, and the same vegetables each time we visit. His sort-of girlfriend was there for dinner and then retired afterward, doing her incessant TV watching and whatever service for the perps as a brown skinned person of Thai origin.

12-30-2012
I got moderate coverage after fueling up my perp-abetting mother's Ford Escape, including one LH drive vehicle circling all the pumps before stopping to fuel up. Why LH drive vehicles are allowed here, or anywhere in North America for that matter, without conversion to RH drive is a tribute to perp machinations IMHO. Then onto the chocolate section of the LD store, the scene of last week's blunder-into-me stunt, I was still accompanied by the faux shoppers, aka dumbstruck gangstalkers. Then back to the First Feral Family house where I got the TV and DVD working together from a single remote control with the new HDMI cable. Truly a major event in perp games.

And I see that in-town brother got himself a TV yesterday, and passing on advice on how to link up the digital converter box. Within a week of my mother getting a new flat-screen TV, he gets a new one when he already had one. He said he was using up a store credit after his PC died twice in succession. Given the ongoing perp inanity over how and where they deliver signals to display devices, and the significant number of laptop packing/viewing gangstalkers, his new TV must be emulating whatever is going on here at the FFF house.

Other pedantic perp-important activities were raking leaves (think brown), digging soil, pulling weeds in the backyard. A third invasive weed in three years has to be pulled. All this in aid of building the compost pile, now 4' tall. As usual, the aircraft and vehicle noise started up, as did the adjacent neighbor yapping dog, and kiddie chatter from next door. The perps had me eat a 100g Milka chocolate bar before heading out, the first one in three weeks, and so it would seem they wanted a brown color signature while I was outside doing landscape upkeep work. And my mother had a red-coated friend come over while I was working the backyard.

I shall post this now, and call this week done.

Triathalon Tour

08-27-2012
Yesterday, I spent time with my niece and sister-in-law as my brother was partaking in the Penticton Ironman Trialtalon. He did the course in 14 hours, a little slow for him. Their motel was on the final 500m of the marathon, so I got to see the near-spent athletes chugging in. In some ways, it was heroic effort, but I also wonder what is in it for the perps. All these exhausted athletes wandering about among the ones that are just finishing. Last year, as part the First Feral Family games, my perp-abetting mother, daughter and ex came to cheer on my brother in his athletic glory. Anyhow, the perps decided to have me as part of the supporting family this year, as this is where I now live.

And I see the LCD-stalking, arranging a LCD device around me, (phones, laptops, Nitendo etc.) has gone one more beserk level in this shared house. I had just entered the kitchen after 30 min. of LCD viewing time on this here blog, when I saw the roomie-stalker with her laptop in the kitchen and running while she is dealing with greens in the kitchen. I thought it was bad enough she would be in the adjacent dining room with it on, and eating food with the headphones on and listening to her laptop, but taking it to the kitchen and then moving it closer to where I was is fucking ridiculous. Only two more days in this shared house if all goes according to plan. I moved some boxes to the new place, and the new landlady couldn't stop talking.

Plenty of vehicles in the gangstalking parade when I had the boxes loaded in the vehicle. All part of their brown box stalking games. And the new landlady is so helpful in taking my belongings inside the house from my vehicle. She seems a little grim, but did say she had insommia. She is revolting to look at, her gut being so prominent and much bigger forearms than I have.

08-28-2012
A busy time after work each day; packing and humpfing boxes to the new suite, though still not permitted to move as the carpets are drying. And because of this, it looks to be a move two days away.

The perps cooperated with my moving of boxes by throwing a thunderstorm, and all manner of lurid colors in the sky; from deep grey, to yellow lit trees, to sunbeams radiating from behind a cloud. They like to arrange extra high contrast sky colors, and all the better with some intermittent rain. The heavy rain only came on once I got back to this shared house. But two evenings in succession, the assholes have made me "forget" my cell phone in the vehicle, though tonight, it will be wet outside.

And I see my latest internet order for a 24" LCD panel is getting screwed with; the credit card company hasn't put the address change through, and that messed up the supplier, and now the supplier has sent me someone else's email by mistake, so it should be a week before it gets shipped I reckon. Just when they set me up to "think"  (read, planted ideation) that it would get here this week, and I would not need to set up this one there. This LCD that I am using now has a horizontal line across it, some 4" below the top bezel, and you wouldn't believe how often the critical information "happens" to be under the imposed dead pixel line the perps have arranged. Though to be fair, this is a 2008 LCD, that didn't quite make it to its fourth year. Why are these newer LCD panels not lasting as long as the old ones?

And it "happens" that the new LCD panel is an IPS type, the same as my new phone of two months ago. So it would seem that the type of LCD is important to whatever nasty things they are pumping through our display devices. Which might be why the Samsung Galaxy Note of April 2012 was taken out in by the perps inside of two weeks, as it had an OLED display. It was working fine, and then it started having problems with freezing up and draining the battery.

Yesterday's evening was busier; re-sorting just-picked peaches, making dinner, loading boxes and moving them, and visiting my brother and family at their motel suite, taking them the haul of peaches I was permitted to take from the vineyard, as the owners said I could, and the fruit is going to waste. No one is picking it, same as back in July with the cherries. They have apples, plums, peaches and pears all ripening and no one at the house is inclined to pick them.

Another shit game at the vineyard; less messy, but still the forced shower due to the fact they blocked the toilet again and multiple attempts to unblock it with One Second Plumber somehow "failed". Then the metal-head son came back early, so he gets to unblock it. Somehow, the perps didn't want me to succeed this time, no matter how small the volume was, and have someone else unblock it. Been there, done that; the son's father had the honors about six weeks ago, and I have unblocked the remainder, about four times. I am getting yawned upon, so to call it an evening.

08-31-2012
Moving to a self-contained suite; begining with a  cell phone takedown that complicated matters. Plus, the landlady's phone number isn't showing up for me to return calls. And as she made a vague promise to come back in the evening, I had to drive there to find out if she had returned.

With only two boxes remaining to extract from my vehicle, the perps began the sensations of needing to take a crap. I got them out and in the suite, and onto the toilet. And lo, if they didn't block the toilet bigtime.

No useful help at the phone store; one said return it and I went to the store where I purchased it to meet the Big Cleavage Blonde for the third time. She said, "a cellphone is like a computer and so one has to do a battery pull to restart it". And of course I know about this "trick", but somehow I forgot. This time, instead of hunkering down in front of me at the counter so I could see down to her navel, she had her breasts pushed up by some means, and instead of across the counter from each other, she was at the display, so I was  besider her. What I don't get is why they keep sending me to this woman who is so utterly useless in resolving cell phone problems, except "do a battery pull".

Another forced "forgot"; a single plate of the regular food at old place. And the woman in the next room had already moved into my old room. I suppose the perps wanted me to see this in person.

09-01-2012
A Dell Ultrasharp 2412M monitor now, an IPS type of display, powered with LED lighting instead of florsescent bulbs, and lo, if the light images don't suddenly project off the screen like traffic lights and city transit bus lights (back end, brake, and turn signal lights), nice and bright and crisp and the usual delivery strangeness, 24" diagonally instead of 22", a minor upgrade for the perp games.

The new landlady didn't mention the parcel until I discovered she left me an email after going around the garden with her for an hour. This classic missed communication stunt caused me to connect the old display first, for a short session, and then to put the new Dell display in its place. It seems that the perps wanted a direct serial comparison between the two displays/

And so many visual abberations with masers floating around, plasma images ghosting in and out of view, and the overall speckled vibratory look of everything if I just sit and look at one thing, and so it goes, living in a containment-verse, as opposed to a universe.

The Firefox browser locked up when visiting a frequent TI blogger; reboot the browser, and lo, if all my opens tabs didn't get wiped. Welcome to your new place.

09-01-2012
The house owners took off for a four week vacation. Which usually means trouble harassment-wise, as they like to get me to yell when there is no one else in the house. The provocations have increased for sure, as they normally do for at least the first week of moving into a new place. Fruit fly bombardment is a big deal now, and they materialized from nowhere and run into my face, and if I attempt to snatch them in in mid-flight, why, a blackish maser of about the same size and flight pattern erupts in mid-air and simulates said fruit fly as if it escaped from my hand.

09-02-2012
Sunday, a day off from the regular vineyard gig, but I was busy on the many fronts that I am entangled with. The move in to this place is still in progress, the toilet is on its second major obstruction/blockage stunt, more storage things need to be acquired to get things organized, and there was yoga after last week's class was cancelled, and then onto suburban yard duties

A near collision in Walmart with a female Fuckwit-operative who nearly ran into me, seeming to be testing my peripherial vision for threats and did a good job, coming within 12" of me before I noticed as I was engrossed in merchandise evaluation, close to the shelves. There were no other aisle obstacles or personnel that would of caused her to be on a collision course, as sometimes the assholes will "wrong foot" me, and have me off balance in dodging the choreographed clusterfuck. No such excuse for her, and I was close to the shelves and not standing stunned in mid-aisle like the Fuckwits are and their Nonstop Public Rudeness Tour. This was all about testing my peripherial vision and all the better that it was a dye-job redhead, about 5'4" or so, and when she first appeared in p.v. I was looking down on the top of her red dyed (hair) head. I said, "what are you doing?" and she says "sorry" and proceeds onward down the aisle. And in a red smock for crissakes, as the regular Walmart staff blue color wasn't provocative or threatening enough. Just plain bizarre, just like the Fuckwits who do 360 degree spins in front of me on the sidewalk for no apparent reason and then stare at me afterward.

Still at Walmart, another choroegraphed cluster fuck on the way to the checkout while following babe bait, she doing her second reprise gangstalking. Then another one cutting through the checkout I was at while engaged in paying for the merchandise, who reprised in the parking lot near my vehicle. My vehicle was parked next to silver grey Mercedes E class, and who in this above $100G vehicle would be seen in a Walmart parking lot for crissakes. These  are rare as hens teeth in this town, and here it was at a Walmart pl.

Yoga was relatively calm, only about seven other class members, all women. The dude crush of past yoga classes might be over for good. But they did bring back the woman with the grotesque tattoos; down her left arm to her wrist and joined with those on her left shoulder to her left chest. Fugly to say the least, but she did place herself to my back, 10' away, and slightly to my right, so there were much less opportunities to see this disgusting disfigurement (IMHO).

09-04-2012
No web access last night, my ISP cell phone connection just didn't connect. So I attempted to catch up on my yard duties, per the hand written notes I had taken on the walkabout with the landlady before she took off for a four week vaction with her elderly mother.

Vineyard duties are getting mundane, and so I could listen to my phone/player. The perps like to put on throbbing two-cycle engine noise concurrently, but if it gets too loud I take the headphones off and don't listen to music. much of this music hasn't been listened to in over ten years, since they went overt-beserk on me, starting out with the plasmic home invasion of significant proportions in 04-2012.

I will get this launched (aka posted) so to not carry this one on for another week.

Petrovoltaic Stone Mason

2125h
A rare day when the perps let me out to do something new, and didn't frustrate me at every turn, only every other turn. This was the event of building a 8' long wall some 3' high and tie it into the remaining wall that didn'f fall down this winter. This is at my in-town brother's place, he putting on this constant act of loathing house and property maintenance when he is a die hard garage sale wheeler and dealer. In his day job he works at a hospital to clean and prepare all the surgery equipment. And he gets seven weeks of annual vacation because of his seniority there. But he is a strange case; job loathing but not doing anything about it, and constantly complains about the vagaries of garage sales, his obsessive hobby. So when it comes to house and property maintenance, I get the call if it fits the perps' objectives of course.

The plant pruning certainly does, as they were all over me with noise at the moment of severing the excessive branches, and once my brother even timed his squirrel abatement activity to the moment I was cutting a branch off nearby. But today, it was on to masonary, playing with motar mix and pre-mixed concrete, and regular readers will know that the perps are plenty beserk about these products and placing them around me, including putting gangstalking redi-mix trucks through downtown to "join me". They love to have me witness major public construction road works and the like, to have me there for a big pour day along with the concrete finishers. And then have me walk on fresh but firm concrete a day or so later, and keep me walking on these surfaces, in some cases for over three years. There are many sections of public sidewalks that get dug up for no seeming reason, 4' or so to 20', sometimes with more than one pour, or perhaps, source of concrete. They also like to arrange "grind downs", where the concrete edges have lifted, and the surface is levelled by grinding down the raised edges.

So...., making up concrete from the bags got me extra noise attention today, but my in-town brother was "hanging around", smashing old mortar off the rocks of the former wall section, and then had to answer a cell phone call and then circulate around me while I was mixing concrete, pacing around and circling me, just like a downtown gangstalker. As there are plenty of EMF signals with an cell phone transmissions, and that the perps are keeping me in a densified magnetic field (over 1600 Gauss), it is important for them to have cell phoning Fuckwits posted around me, especially for big events (for them) like entering or exiting buildings, moving from room to room, and when the bus is turning corners. I reckon that cell phones are good for the asshole's electromagnetic investigation games, as well as whatever reaction one has from whatever they do to the LCD displays on cell phone, just like on this here PC. There is something that comes off LCD displays that is of use to the perps, as they will often have a Fuckwit standing in mid aisle or nearby on the bus, just looking at the screen on the cell phone. Or else, in more limited ways, do the same with the laptop, having them open and active two seats next to when on the bus.

I have never built a rock wall before, but as we had gathered the rocks two days ago, I reckon the perps convinced my brother that I was up for the job. Why else would he hand this task over to me when I am totally inexperienced? Over the course of six hours I had made a passable foundation of rock bedded in by mortar, and had poured concrete into a gouge in the bedrock to level it up. I asked my brother to put in a stringline for where he wanted the wall, but by the time that I had need of it he had strung it skewed, so it was useless to me. But useful for the perps to have a brown string just over my head and then brown vertical string as well. Regular readers will know how much the perps covert having brown things around, me, but not worn by me, and the rest of their beserk fascination with all things brown, especially when in the bathroom.

I used my new gloves for the rock wall job, as the other pair I keep at my brothers has been trashed by someone cutting holes in two fingers of the left hand. This new pair is of the same type of yellow leather, but with black stretchy panels on the backs of the hands. And I should not of been too surprised to find that the gloves, likely via the perps, had made my hands yellow from "dye bleed off" by the end of the day. This then fed the Fuckwit Frenzy at the bus stop. I arrived at the bus stop at 1700h, just missing one because of the traffic light timing. within five minutes, five Fuckwits had arrived at the bus stop, mouths agape, bald head on display, or otherwise seeming totally odd. One had a yellow shirt on and was determined to step into the center of the sidewalk and block my view of any oncoming buses. And he seemed also determined to block the sunlight as well, until I leaned forward and put an end to that bullshit. After waiting some eight minutes for a bus, another Fuckwit arrives with a folded yellow T-shirt in hand, coming closer that the yellow shirted Fuckwit. And that was the signal it was time to go, and walk back into town, as waiting for a fucking bus turns into a sicko feeding event, color coordinated to the dye they put on my hands.

A forty minute walk into town didn't ensure that I was Freak Free (aka gangstalker) by any means, as there were all manner of weirds stationed at the bus stops when walking past, but at least I didn't have to deal with their fucking stake-out games. The perps don't normally let me do much exercise, especially running and walking,  as it seems they cannot get enough of their irradiation fuckery on me while moving. Sure enough, when I get back to my apartment and onto this PC, some kind of vision buggering irradiation is coming off this LCD panel, just like in the days when they did let me out for extensive (greater than 30 minutes) of walking. Back then, 2006 and 2008, after each walking outing, they would hammer me with some kind of eye-buggering irradiation off the LCD panel, as it seems that exercise has a dissapative effect, as well as they cannot measure me accurately when I am moving. The stopped me running in 2003, as presumably that presented even more technical challenges for the Fuckwits.


It was interesting to note the noisestalking timing today while rock wall building. Anytime rocks were grinding or binding was a big deal for the assholes by adding more noise, the reasons noted in the recent blog posting, introducing the concept of petrovoltaics, rock sourced electromagnetics, which isn't new, it is just that it also likely serves the perps' agenda, as they like me to be exposed to soil and rock diggings as much as they can arrange. (wikipedia has it as petravoltaics, misspelled). And to have me get rocks from one location and place them on bedrock at another location is just too exciting for them. And to add mortar mix and cement into the picture, and then to have me later walk home for 40 minutes on all kinds of new streetwork poured concrete surfaces, why, it it just too much for a perp sicko to contain themselves.

I am getting the knee pain jabbings tonight, and the ear ringing noise is getting way to vexing, so it is time to make excuses and blog off.

Leaf Raking

2130h
Late to start blogging, but I did get some gainful time in today, leaf raking at my in-town brother's place. And of course, the folks with the brown color harassment campaign (among others), had some chocolate arranged for him to share with me. Then later, he had a Kitkat bar the same time I was eating said proffered chocolate. The differing red colors of the respective packaging was no doubt important too, or at least for the criminals who have invaded my life with their extra conventional gravitic harassment games. Though, to be fair, the harassment was on the light side except at lunch at my brother's place. When having canned salmon, it kept rolling off my fork, even if the fork wasn't moving. "Self propelled" food is nothing new in my contained existence, but the frequency of it was escalated for some reason. Perhaps it was the food color, or the rare visitation I make to my brother's place.

I had the usual noise parade when raking leaves in his backyard; hot rods and other "performance" mufflers, two cycle motorcycles, and an abundance of aircraft, real ones in fact, and not just the noise as is usually the case. I suppose the real agenda was that I be exposed to plastics of all colors and types; garbage bags, plastic garbage bins, some garden hose and a few other remnants to deal with. The noisestalking was especially evident when pulling the plastic garbage bags from the plastic garbage bins. All too exciting for some covert agency.

Other arranged events seemed to be parallel pee-ing; I was using his toilet to pee, and lo, if he didn't suddenly have a "need" too, and was pee-ing the same time as I was, exactly overhead of me, the toilets with the same respective configurations. That too is exciting for those covertly surveilling the anisotropic properties of the ether (it seems) in my proximity.

Another possible excitement for the perps might have been the fact that I was wearing my brother's black fleece vest with brown leather shoulder patches. The perps won't let me own brown clothes, so this must of been a special event for them. I have blogged in the recent past about the profusion of wandering males with black colored jackets with red shoulder patches, and so this particular fleece vest also could be an augmentive clothing item in the long running gangstalking game.

Later, I enjoined in the city bus freakshow to find my way back to my place, though I would have to say the freak component was reduced somewhat. They even put on a blonde babe standing behind the bus driver on a cell phone the entire time. That she had a vacant seat behind her was most curious, though I suppose she was doing some "body blocking" as this too is a long running gangstalker trait.

There is something decidedly odd tonight about this LCD display as I am typing; I am getting some fierce irradiative "something" coming off the display (screen), and it is bothering my eyes. I swear that the perps are now using LCDs to bombard their selected targets, and this has been verified to some extent in Vera's Story, as she was gangstalked and rendered homeless for a time. It is a fascinating and lucid tale, and she even is relieved of the harassment by some means, though she doesn't say how. There is hope for us yet, but I am not optimistic as there seems to be too many perp objectives riding on my back to consider that they are anywhere close to completion to being able to invoke total life rape remotely, as opposed to 98% life rape which they can do. I am their guinea pig for their considerable backlog of technical adversities, some being associated with cosmic rays, neutrinos and nanoparticles. This is what they tell me, and the consistent harassment methods seems to verify their story. Other adversities seem to been have created by the perps themselves, no matter their abilities to wipe my recall clean from ages three to five. I have no idea what happened then, not even the place we lived in, nor the arrival of my first youngest brother. I do have some recall of living in Montreal when aged two, but it is fragmentary, and doesn't include anything that might have been applied by the infamous Scotsman, Dr. Ewen Cameron, who was resident at McGill then. The perps do like to ply me with freaking Scottish accented gangstalkers and make sure I react to this in a most visceral way. Thankfully, nothing recent, as the summer's daffodil bulb picking crew had one such Scot, though I did notice that he toned it down, and refrained from speaking as much as he had.

When I came back from my brother's place via the bus I got off one block early as the bus sits there at the timing point. I had my usual flurry of gangstalkers outside the rear exit door, and set off to walk the last two blocks back. I noticed a negro dude on a bicycle standing at the intersection, and who stayed there when the pedestrian signal indicated "Walk". I looked back while crossing the street and he was still there. This reminded me of yesterday's stunt where a similar situation unfolded; a overweight Caucasian dude was holding two Starbuck's coffees up at shoulder lever, one in each hand, and stayed in place while I walked away from him as he stayed in place in this absurd stance. I have found coffee to be a ersatz brown color reference, and I also thought it curious that in both instances, I was E. bound. It would seem the perps are working on E. bound distance dependent brown color testing, and of course the negro would of offered much more brown than the two coffee cups. Also of interest, the perps planted a negro kid behind me on the bus, in shorts for crissakes in this damp weather. Should I call it "brownstalking", "browning around", or just plain deranged assholes without an apparent day job? No contest; they are fucking sick to be hounding anybody for six years while they play fucking games with various colors, planting them around me in varying orientations, and haven't the gumption to front for their relentless turptitude.

Time to call this posting done for the day, lest it get anymore venomous or plain dull.

Dropping In

1345h
The hallway "air freshener" spraying has erupted, this curious habit of putative housework that occurs outside my room and always (somehow) leaks into my room and up my nose.

This is the post lunch surveillance period and a unique one at that. I went to the "drop in" center as part of my requirements for subsidized housing, and had a lunch after the outing that I went on before that. As a consequence, I am getting a heavier dose of irradiation of this LCD display, akin to the post-hiking sessions before 06-2006

I went with the Government House landscape restoration group, who volunteer to pull invasive weed species from the wildland areas, the Garry Oak (aka Oregon White Oak) meadow areas. As this 20 acre property lies in the heart of a residential area, it is prone to infill from invasive exotic species. So this morning, I joined the crew of 10 or so to participate in the activity. For the most part I got a informative history of the wildland restoration activity, and that of the ecology of this area. Next time, I suspect, I will get to pull weed species. But of course it was an exalted gangstalking event, and with the "mental illness" label attached to this center, it is a continuation of the cast of strange characters that packed around me when I was incarcerated at the hospital.

There were the usual feints and games of walk ahead, then behind, walk between operatives, switch positions, and the background chatter while I was speaking and listening to the group leader, who has an impressive knowledge of the project. And too, there was the color of clothing games, one operative/patient in a crimson red that was kept in constant proximity, the hat show (e.g. bright colors through the glass, then directly, and then hat is taken off for another troll by for each of those two instances.) Other examples were the red hat, the black hat, the day-glo rainbow hat, the plum-pink on a native Indian variation, and a few other combinations that were evident. A blue-grey dressed gangstalker got ahead of us and put on the distance dependent color test for the 10 minute walk back to the drop-in center.

One of the more obvious stalking method changes is that they like to get more stalking time in, and also have them move inside a building, then outside and even through a doorway. The manager of the facility who I met last week in his office was adroitly positioned some 30' away, through the open door, visible from my inside table to him, outside in the gazebo. And the door was partially closed, so I would only see a narrow window of him. All part of the fuckery, and all the time.

Another feint/method was to have the ever present city streetsweeper out again, this time on the walking route to Government House. As mentioned before, it is normal early morning activity, when the streets are free of parked vehicles, and is now "showing" up in the residental areas that I inhabit, and now, those that I walk through.

And more joggers than ever before today; one each of the four legs of my perambulating to the drop-in center and then again, to/from Government House.

Aftwerward, I had lunch there, which is about the only way the perps can get eggs into me, as they have their food/color testing regimen, and they are resuming where they left off about three years ago when I last had egg as a protein source. One sandwich in white bread, the other with brown bread. Lunch time was a real crush, there had to be at least 40 of the "drop-in" patients/operatives when we got back, and this is in a old house living room and dining room area. And I got to aquaint myself with the "weirds", the ones who have half an excuse to stare at me, blabber on without consequence, and the rest of the strange behavoirs that the perps introduced me into early in this 4.5 year and running fuckover.

All to keep me circulating, especially in tight quarters where the "inadvertent" bumping is erupting with an ostensible reason. Though, it seemed to be especially prevalent at lunch, and why the lunch server had a leather backpack on has yet to pass some rationality test. All jolly fun for the perps and their games, and their aerialed highrise HQ (they tell me via thought planting) wasn't very far away in this location. It looks more like a military operation if the rooftop were the only criteria to judge it by.

And with some old house stained glass, there is a cover story to have a reddish splash of light on the floor, not far from me, one of the constant games that goes on, as anytime I close my eyes momentarily, the perps usually introduce a red flash as if it were from the underside of my eyelids.

1730h
As I write this the noise flurries have begun; and another fuckover in taking a shit, a three-fer; blocking the toilet, removing the plunger and forcing a shower to clean up. This time, and it is not any consolation, only one plunging was needed, not the 20 minutes or so of the last two times. And I had my noise flurries going on while on the crapper, the same ones that they had on me when in my room beforehand. Seemingly, some kind of noise to neural correlates mapping over two locations and activites. And as "I" typoed that last phrase, the"n" word, the overhead noise maker laid on a few clunks to piss me off and end this under-the-microscope session.

1850h
I am getting the post-mealtime gangstalk, overhead clunking and coincident zapping. And the perps make sure to piss me off enough to program my vocalized complaints about this fuckery. And more clunking as I write this.

1905h
The operatives are on the move again; egressing in serial fashion, 1/3 minutes, and now adding a squeak into the front door slamming which also "incurs" a room shake (mine), and for an extra bonus, they shake this LCD display for a few seconds longer than the furniture and room. Meanwhile, the overhead clunking thoughtstalks me at any uncontrolled thinking, as well as the tried and true intervals when I bookmark a web page, select a new web page display, decide to mouseclick etc. More of being under the microscope, and they want me to know that. And the typo sabotage is getting intense.

A more recent jerkaround that is incrementally gaining prominence is the touches and/or tickles as if my hand, or other, is touching something when it is not. And when I look to see if there is a real world source of the problem, the perps start slamming a nearby wall. Endless variations on noise and vibrations, all over any minutia that they deem noisestalkable.

2005h
More coughing and more ass jabbing plus a few other noises, the regular ones.

Another noise flurry; the pop can bashing and feet scuffing in the hallway have been added to the noise mix with the overhead pounding in there too. Masers are flitting about, especially if I vocalize my annoyance with mind-fuck typos that are dogging every word. One more thought, and another clunk. Time to stop encouraging this idiotic act.

2300h
A dull roar of the above mentioned noise flurries and some respite, though with at least two vocalizations over the hammering noise above me. All too repetitive. Time to blog off.