07-07-2019
That makes me 65 yo. now, a TI pensioner, still a Prisoner in Disguise. No harassment reprieve for pensioners as I have come to know. Not that I expected any different, having been through 50, 60 and now 65 yo. and no let up. At least they didn't hammer me with planted notions of cessation of hostilities due to a round number birthdays this time, as they have in the past.
I was on wine bottling duty for the prior two days, and of course, plenty of things go wrong with washing, drying, filling, capping and labeling operations in a 30' mobile trailer. I was on the "glass dumping", unloading of the new empty bottles onto the conveyor, case by case. I don't mind it, and as it is a dog simple task, no one bothers me. At this winery that is not an issue, but at the last one, with very agitated supervisory individuals, it made a difference to have this little slice of relative freedom. Anyhow, the bottling crew changed some; the "old brown nut" as he called himself (E. Indian in fact) wasn't there, but they added a dude with extra baggy shorts and a negro in addition to the E. Indian woman who was there in the past three bottlings. The bottling crew was to do two runs from different wineries on the first day but got the winery specific corks mixed up sometime through the first bottling run. I have never seen my normally calm boss so infuriated before.
And too, with so many filled wine bottle rejects due to label and capsule application problems, in addition to the aforementioned cork problems, there were plenty of cases for each on the floor, and a whole lot of "bend overs" by our crew to deal with moving these anomalies out of the tight trailer to the case packing crew. (Not so many as at a yoga class at once, but over two days, about the same). Some bottles were to be poured back in, others were to be kept aside etc., so plenty of differing dispositions to manage. And do the perps ever love things to go wrong, never mind having extra unplanned categories of rejects as well. There is just too many perp things to love about production lines, that is, for them to go wrong, create reject variations and hold it up. This often gives the staff to come to where I was standing and stand exactly where I was, and too, swap the E. Indian woman for the male negro. And have I not complained about the constant and relentless campaign since 04-2002 to have their operatives and shills stand or walk over the very ground that I do? Countless times; attempting to replicate my energy field (I assume) with another party in the exact same spot as me has been a harassment standard, never mind attempting to get these same fuckers up my asshole in the shortest possible time, most notably at checkouts.
Said negro was up to some peculiar operational bottling line habits; doing chin ups while bottles were traveling past on the conveyor below, and also doing leg stretches on the trailer tail gate after I had vacated that patch over the 1.5 days I had spent there. Not exactly becoming or professional behavior and perhaps adding to the "strange cred". Weird to say the least, and I have never seen anyone act so perversely on a bottling line before.
There is something about glass, and glass handling (and bashing) the perps love, and all the better that it be filled with an alcoholic beverage. They are constantly on my ass in the government liquor stores (wine, beer and spirits) and no doubt obtain great benefit from me being on a bottling line. I suppose it is a testament to exchange rate manipulation, but it astonished me that some 6,000 bottles in their cardboard cases is sourced from China these days, and not from North America. All the better to have bottles of irregular shape (QC issues) that won't take a label properly (more things going wrong, and too, their endless fuckery over things from other locations.
The usual desultory perp-abetting family recognition of my birthday; no one got a card to me on time, and my daughter was a day late with a phone call. (She holding the lamest excuse of all, "I was out with my friends"). All my life I have wanted to rid myself of bozos, dipshits and other saboteurs, and here I am saddled with them as family in this too-long running abuse-athon with them as full participants.
Out and about to LD and SOF tonight, two of my regular stores. In the former case I had a Rx to fill and "somehow" it disappeared from my regular jacket pocket yesterday when I wanted to fill it, and today, why, it re-arrived exactly where I had left it. All to fuck with my timing and getting it filled today instead of yesterday. But as it is a special order item, and the order had already been sent today, the Rx won't arrive until two more days. Well done assholes; by fucking with my papers, you forced a three day delay instead of one.
That wasn't the only papers that went missing; a coupon for a discount has gone missing when I ordinarily take extreme precautions to ensure papers don't go missing. It is something I learned long ago, pre-overt harassment, as I had the most frequent "misfortune" of missing papers. Once I got organized, that was the end of it (mostly), but since the Psychopaths went berserk/overt in 04-2002, they don't mind letting me know about their teleportation fuckery, especially when it comes to paperwork. And too, in the immediate pre-harassment period in 2001, my then wife (and daughter) came to visit me in Seattle, and lo, if a number of documents weren't stolen by the ex; my visa documents, monthly bank statements, tax returns and pay stubs all went missing for 1999 and 2000 while I was at the pool with my daughter. The ex was still in my apartment, and from 40' away I could see her at my desk through the window. A week later I found my tax returns missing, but didn't look for other missing papers. All this came to roost recently, as I needed these documents for my pension application. The ex declined to reply to my request for the documents. And she did the same when my mother intervened and gave her the same letter in person. So what is it about the Psychopaths that they need to arrange stolen documents? And don't tell me the ex was just acting on her lawyer's advice. She was acting on someone's advice as she isn't that forward thinking. A devious shit yes, but not one to plan ahead though.
At SOF they had me covered even in the parking lot, by sending a red van full of dudes slowly through one row of parking stalls to then cross in front of my intened path and park next to my vehicle. I have never seen such irregular parking lot driving in all my life; one slowly drives into a stall and stops and parks. But no, these Fuckwits keep driving and cross the aisle space between the rows of stalls so they can park next to me. Another never-before behavior, this time while attempting to park their vehicle.
While in SOF they had the back-and-forth Fuckwit get in my way, all to send me down a different aisle and past the three dudes that may have been party to the above mentioned parking lot stunt. I attempted to get around the freezer case, and lo, if they didn't have two Fuckwits arrive just as I as about to go there. I went elsewhere for awhile, and lo, if the Fuckwits weren't coursing back, all in keeping with the time-honored gangstalking method of having repeat stalkings, aka redux stalking. At least two more were on my ass, and at least two around-the-corner eruptions of stalkers, another time-honored technique of having a stalker Fuckwit at a 90 degree angle about to step in my way, and a chance to get closer. An attractive blonde woman was on my ass intermittently as well, getting more positive attention than the rest of the parade of Fuckwits. She doing a head flick of her gorgeous blonde mane while momentarily stepping away from the checkout (now in front of me), and bent over at the next check out, for no seeming reason. Like WTF; she stepped out and did her head flick too fast to be bending over to look at any checkout promotion (e.g. magazine), and promptly returned to the checkout, all to accomplish absolutely nothing in conventional terms, and besides, look fucking stupid. No wonder she ducked down to hide her bizarre act. Just another day of seeming normal people doing peculiar things in my presence.
And too, I saw the oncologist at the Kelowna hospital two days ago; the PSA numbers are down both in April and June (good), and he seemed more motivated than last time to get on with the infernal bowel side effects (aka, collateral damage). Why it took him 18 months to get to this point I have no idea.
And the perp interest in clothing changing continues. As I was taking off my fleece vest at the hospital, the unfriendly nurse puts on a all too-fake throat clearing noise. Like WTF lady; don't try and tell me with a straight face that you had a throat issue just then when I have been relentlessly hounded at this juncture for 17 years. And too, all this while, never mind the procession of Fuckwits (bizarrely) wearing horizontal and vertical partial shirts, no shirts or every other excuse to change clothing, usually adding or subtracting a sweater or coat in my presence. This latest example of clothing changes goes to show how close the Psychopaths have my every move covered for their purposes.
I caught Winnie Brave at a local venue two days ago; a pre-birthday treat for myself, though I paid for it the next day in terms of the radiotherapy bowel damage issues. A great show, and well worth the impromptu (seemingly) decision to go.
Anyhow, another week passes of being Victim Central of the Relentless Abuse-athon,
knowing (yet again) that round number birthdays count for nothing. I really don't want to be 70 y.o. and be still kept under the Psychopath's thumb. Not even for another fucking day if I had my way.
Showing posts with label blonde woman gangstalk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blonde woman gangstalk. Show all posts
Sunday, July 07, 2019
Sunday, December 03, 2017
Clutch Play
11-27-2017
Back to gratuitous mention games, as in dropping specific words that happen to be topical, when the perpetrating party should have no idea of such. Or aka, managed coincidences. To wit, I had the clutch in my vehicle replaced, and they finished it early, so my fickle friend drove me to the shop and I paid for it, and it drove my just-repaired vehicle up to Kelowna for my radiotherapy treatment visit today. I had to do a lot of prior online research on clutches to get the one that wasn't ridiculously expensive, nor a cheapie. I expressly wanted to avoid the latter, as this vehicle has had two clutches in 118k km, and they shouldn't wear that fast. (My perp abetting parents owned the vehicle until Jan. 2017). Needless to say, between researching, obtaining, and finally getting the repair finished this morning, the term "clutch" (as in driveline vehicle part, not the woman's purse thing), has been germane for at least three weeks.
And so today at the radiotherapy waiting room, this logger guy was holding forth, and a guy opposite him was detailing his woes about his chainsaw and that it bogged down under load. The logger then started into attempting to figure the problem out; "does it have a clutch on the drive shaft?". The perps now wipe me out so I don't notice these "name droppings" at the time, and only let me in on it later in the day. No doubt this one still has some legs, but I hope it isn't the new drive line clutch that begets more mention.
And the above mentioned logger guy kept banging on the arm rest of the sofa we occupied, and of course, the vibration transmits over to me. Normally I avoid shared public furniture for that very reason. Now in the sixth and last week of M-F radiotherapy, they finally herded me onto this particular seat. Its the same at concert venues, aircraft and like shared seat situations; some asshole starts up the seat banging in order to have the vibrations transmit to me. Said logger guy also did his best to do some arm waving in my peripheral vision; we did that at least twice before in the past two weeks, though not with him. Why does this insane shit go on relentlessly now for 15 years?
I feel fatter than ever today; the radiotherapy has already puffed me up by 15lb, and that was last week. Given the past transgressions of clinical criminality of giving me dopamine blocking medications which puffed me up 30lb, I suspect the gamma radiation of the radiotherapy is depleting my dopamine in and around my prostate. This is a focused beam, aka, conformal external beam radiotherapy, and is aimed at my prostate by way of a prior CT scan that determines its precise location each visit, with a little extra outside tolerance. So... it is clear to me that this whole radiotherapy is all about depleting my dopamine, this time in a very specific location. (Dopamine is a hormone, and not just a neurotransmitter in the central nervous system). Haven't we done this shit before? Yes; 5 months of illegal incarceration in 2003 to give me dopamine agonists that beat the hell out of me. And IMHO this whole prostate cancer would of never happened had I been allowed my very effective dopamine agonist medication, as dopamine mediates the immune system, one of its many hormonal effects. And it simply isn't enough to be dopamine deficient all one's life, and be ADD and dysthymic. Then they jump on the victim, harass the living shit out of him, and then deplete yet more dopamine, all the way to radiotherapy.
Yoga tonight; the usual high turnover where there is 80% turnover each visit. They put on two dudes, one of them going shirtless halfway through. Neither seemed to be much into yoga, and ditto for most of the class. I ended up in front of the instructor, as my usual two locations were taken up, even if I got there early. The dude behind me needed to hover all around me after class, at the pinch point where the coat rack and the couch to sit down and put my boots on. Been there, had it done to me.
Though arriving at yoga seemed to be a big deal for the perps; the former instructor walked out as I walked in without so much as a hello or a glance, aka the pretend-not-to-know-me gambit. The current instructor, young and easy to look at, then glided into my peripheral vision and said hello, with a smile. Normally she is at the front desk and says hello, as I would see her when I enter and approach the desk to sign in. For some reason the perps had me initially freaked out by her entering my visual field, and blanked me out for a second or two as to who she was. I don't ever make those mistakes; once I see someone I don't ever forget them, especially a yoga instructor whom I see all class, now for at least six classes. I just don't appreciate in any way having my recognition fucked with, and nor do I appreciate being planted with inappropriate reactions.
11-28-2017
Another radiotherapy treatment trip today, now the 4th to last. Owing to "hygeine" apparently, they removed all the magazines and the jig saw puzzle which I never bothered with. So... I was suddenly bereft of reading material for my 40 min. wait, and there was always something interesting. And to add to the waiting room blues, the usual radiotherapy machine was unexpectedly down, so the appointment was about 10 min. late. And then to add to the drama, so to speak, the guy next to me screwed off with my clothes in the standard issue plastic bag. They were there at my feet, and his were on the couch beside him, and "somehow" he made a mistake. Anyhow, the RT technician retrieved them shortly, while the E. Indian woman RT technician began to set me up in in the adjacent (to the usual) room. This one was a mirror image of the usual radiotherapy room I have been treated in for the past five weeks. No big deal, and the RT machine was the same, just that its paneling was a blue-green, instead of grey.
Anyhow, I got done, changed, and then on the way out the clusterfucking began; first at the doors with an elder dude on a walker and attendant, who then dithered and then stalked still outside, which by then, I had sufficient room to walk around them and walk through the parking lot instead of the sidewalk. By the time I got to my vehicle, it was a four vehicle clusterfuck, keeping me in place, and then when I was about to exit, it became a six vehicle clusterfuck in this too small parking lot. Then the elder duckie's attendant backed out, and then the duckie on his walker did a protracted vehicle entrance, having to put the walker away in the trunk as well. Why they didn't make use of the roundabout at the rotunda entrance to the cancer clinic I have no idea. A major vehicle pod around me in getting out of Kelowna as well, all at 1240h on a week day for crissakes. The traffic was traveling at a good clip, but even at that, the elder duckie and his attendant somehow kept immediately in front of me for another 15km. This pair covered me at the entrance doors in the cancer center, in the parking lot with their unnecessarily extended vehicle egress, and then when in their Volvo, from the parking lot through 6 blocks of traffic to the highway for 15km. Not bad, it could of been for further.
On the vehicular stalking show, platform tow trucks seem to be playing big; I must of seen at least 10 en route today. (I won't count the ATV in the back of the pickup truck, but there is always two or three of those).
Later, when back in Penticton, the "need" came on to get a salon tan, and lo, there was major traffic trains in place for that. Then the loafers in the waiting area, and another woman (blonde) walking at me and then cutting to my R side in the classic perp stalker move. Even more vehicle trains when headed back to my place. Somehow, I forgot to take my phone, and lo, there was a message from my fickle friend that our former employer had sold his winery to a major player in the Okanagan Valley. As to what was all important to the perps in all of that, I have no idea. I suspect the above mentioned change in the radiotherapy treatment room just might of got them started.
And what is with the older blondes of late? Mid-40's to 60 y.o., shorter hair, no longer than shoulder length, and sometimes deliberately standing around for no reason. Hair is "roughed up", shredded, or whatever the term is for loosely arranged straight hair, but not in uniform cascades. I have been getting more of them at yoga of late, and also at the cancer center waiting room. Yesterday, after finishing my gamma ray treatment, dressed and heading out, (prime gangstalk moment) one was standing in the hallway looking away, leaning on something, and seeming waiting for someone. Not dressed as a patient, but someone who might be helping one, but the waiting room was only 10' away with plenty of seats, so why stand in the hallway? I was looking at her, though there wasn't much to see with her puffy red down coat on, and just then she turned her head to catch my eye. I kept on walking, not wanting to make any further contact. So what was the point of that? To provide me some kind of older blonde visual bait, at the soonest moment of post-irradiative treatment? Had she been in the waiting room there wouldn't of been any likely visual contact, and certainly not from 3' away. There does seem be an older/elder blonde woman show going on of late, though I am hardly looking for anyone. Perhaps the perps are extrapolating my attraction to younger blondes to older ones. I don't know, or care; just leave me alone.
Ditto for yoga last night; the older blonde with the short shredded hair next to me, and her gorgeous daughter one mat removed. Another family gangstalk event it would seem.
And speaking of blondes; the RT technician who sorted out the swapped clothing bags for me was blonde, and young too. Stocky, and not the quintessential model frame, but genuinely pleasant, a rarity. And big on touches too, not just the usual prodding and positioning while I am on the table, getting positioned with the lasers.
11-29-2017
... radio therapy, ... doctor visit, waiting room ... ambulance chasing... A real one today, with lights flashing on the highway etc. not just the ones cruising around for no seeming reason. Sometimes they follow or lead me to the hospital from 10 miles or more.
For some reason I ended up at LD in mid-day, when normally I go in the evening. The place is becoming a total gangstalking show. And worse yet, they set me up for a total gangstalking skunk. Not only were the two checkouts plugged up, and no end of Fuckwits in pretend shopping mode, but they posted Fuckwits at each of the four shelf locations I wanted to go. Once I saw the crowd at the checkouts, I dumped my intended chocolate purchase and split. Not only extra vehicles, extra aircraft coverage, even a co-worker "chance" meeting in the parking lot. Another fuckwit standing at his Volvo wagon outside with the door open, and a cold wind outside, and not even smoking, the usual excuse for looking stupid while loitering, other than vagrants and doddering duckies. This post-radio therapy treatment return outing in Penticton is highly stalked as I have come to experience over the past five weeks.
11-30-2017
Thursday, and the penultimate radiotherapy treatment today. The waiting room was relatively unpopulated, and perhaps it was the higher elevation snow that deterred out of town patients. It was rainy for most of my journey, though not seriously so. Though, I didn't get into treatment any earlier. It was the two dudes show, the radiotherapy technicians who get to move me into position and line up my markers they tattooed on me back in September. One new to me today, hanging back in the room when I entered with the one that I knew. They seem to like to bring on the Unfavoreds in this furtive manner for some reason.
I got the hallway ditherer buzzing around me when dressed in my togs and ready; the doddering geriatrics are the best excuse for loitering Fuckwits after vagrants. This geriatric stalker was on me when I wanted to exit the waiting room to get loaded up on water (full bladder is a requirement), then again when at the water cooler down the hall. There she asked me about where to pick up the bus. Like WTF; I don't take the bus so how would I know? Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed with my water intake and where I get it from, and what vessels, pipes, filters etc. that it has passed through. And one cannot trust anyone in these circumstances of being stalked and harassed all the time.
And for once they cleared the hallway once my treatment was over and I got to walk at my normal comparative (this is a hospital) fast pace. Absolutely no one stepping in my way, though a few "crossovers", (crossing my path), one being yesterday's medical assistant who got to ask all those questions before the doctor came in the room (and pretended not to know me).
But the perps weren't done yet, as they pulled a two lane closure on the Kelowna (Bennett) bridge S bound, when I was home bound. Only the R most lane was available, and I had to move over two lanes as there aren't any prior overhead lane indicators. And it was the most ridiculous set up of a "traffic accident"; one grey min-van and six (yes) black vehicles were parked up against the barrier, 1' or so apart, and no sign of any collision, not even road debris. And the ambulance, (remember them, driving up and down every day nearly for five weeks), was in the center lane, and the traffic control people were out too. Plenty of flashing white, red and yellow lights of course. As I drove by, one elder male with white flowing locks was being ushered into the ambulance on my side, the putative patient was mobile and on his feet. And the attendant fireman (fire truck in front, blocking both lanes) turned his head to look at me while I drove by. Like WTF; attend to your job, and why single me out with no end of vehicles slowly streaming past. One of the six black vehicles, (all the black vehicles were in a contiguous line, and the one grey colored van at the E end), was a black Suburban with full tinted windows, not unlike the one that would cruise around me four years ago. I have been through so many faked vehicle accidents I have given up counting, though I haven't seen a larger one like this for a few years.
But the perps weren't done yet; two minutes later a Fuckwit pulls and no-notice lane change in my face just to piss me off, just as I was accelerating in the L most lane, and then the truck in front of him drives within 1" of the concrete barrier so he could throw up sand and grit that was there in the lane median next to the concrete barrier. How fucking stupid was that? He could of flipped the thing, he was that close. I need to get a dash cam to record the vehicular stupidity outbreaks, though with my usual (enforced) bad luck, the only time they would put on stunts would be when it wasn't working.
Then as I cruised through my last traffic light of my 80km trip, the perps put on a real accident. A woman in a black vehicle shot out from the fuel station into the path of a oncoming white vehicle, and they contacted front bumpers. She stopped broadside to the traffic to then hold up it more, but eventually they both crossed the road in front and pulled over so I could drive past them and witness some real, but minor, vehicle damage.
And what is it with black and white vehicles of late? Six black vehicles were clustered around me when setting off yesterday to keep me stuck behind a redi-mix truck, a long standing perp prop. Today, it was four black vehicles while I was kept behind an tractor trailer at the same location. Yesterday, a strange driving behavior was on show, where the Fuckwit would change lanes at each curve in the road, this at 100km/hour, when there was no other traffic an the lanes were plenty wide and the curves were gentle enough to keep one's speed up. I have never seen anything like this before; normally if someone gets "afraid" of a bend, they put on their brakes instead of crossing over to the next lane, and the weather wasn't a factor either.
Red and white vehicles are also common, arranged together in a single visual field. And then they add in Alberta vehicles with their white and red lettered license plates.
My local fickle friend was hanging out at the mall waiting for his car to be fixed and wanted company, so I obliged with a rendezvous at Starbucks there. Another post-treatment outing as it turned out, and what a holy vehicular gangstalking it was. While at Starbucks I also got to see the construction babe from last year's job site, as she "happened" to be on her way out. We chatted briefly, which is kind of like what it was last year at this very same location; I was headed out and she had just arrived. No time for an extended chat in either instance, but what a coincidence, the only two times I have been to that particular Starbucks, and she flits in or out.
So there I was in a public busy area for about 1.5 hours as no end of customers happened to be passing by, and the close-in backpack sweep didn't go unnoticed either. Even my former boss' wife stopped by without so much as a hello. Another pretend-not-to-know me stalker was the green and black haired woman, a cashier at SOF, whom I connected with at least twice (over ADD), who stood 3' away and didn't bother to look up from her smart phone.
12-01-2017
Friday, and my last day of radiotherapy, now six weeks of driving to Kelowna each day is over. I see they had all the plastic bins, possibly for laundry, lining the hallway on my way in, constricting hallway width by 3'. The waiting room crowd was much diminished, only one other. But I do find it curious as to the number of passing Fuckwits that need to stare in while looking back, or stop and look in for nothing, as they are on their way out, post treatment. (I recognized the patients doing this).
Just when I thought I saw the end of Ms. Cne last week, the purposely unpleasant radiotherapy technician of two weeks ago, who only attended me one time, she just "happened" to cruising the hallway oncoming on my last 30' before the doorway of my last radiotherapy session. I didn't bother to glance at her as I knew she would be in her grim countenance state. After her back-and-forth hallway strut of two weeks ago when she put on the grimace for me, she also "happened" to be doing her heading away hallway strut last week as I was signing in one morning, and as soon as I formulated an internal "who cares" thought, a thump noise came from somewhere. Back to thought stalking, or at least, being aware of it. She is attractive somewhat, and I do find her hair especially interesting, but beyond that I have no interest, and yet she plays this unpleasant card. The generalized term for her would be "bitch", but my benchmark for that term is higher than most, so I don't use it as I really had no major interaction with her, apart from a one-time event on the radio-treatment bed and for some reason, she had to apply a solution to my freckle sized positioning tattoo in the middle. Needless to say, the perps played her in mind all the way back, some 50 minutes of driving.
Immigration and the attendant over promotion on CBC and in the media all over; I don't get it as this piece, Immigration Is Destruction articulates. And the civil authorities bend over backwards to "accommodate" the excesses of the perpetrators. Here is the report on what happened in Rotherham in the UK:
Mexico City was the most "diverse" city in the world in 1650, per "1493" by Charles Mann) and look at them now. The violence and corruption is rife, and the place is an armed camp. And they still cannot literally get their shit together, as the extensive barrios don't have a sewer system, so fecal dust is flying all over the place in the summer when the weather systems keep it in the basin where Mexico City sits.
12-03-2017
More troving on Jasun Horsley's Auticulture.com, and listening to the podcasts with Ann Diamond, (parts 1,3 and parts 3,4) a Montreal native in the 1950-50's, and an MKULTRA experimentee, though seemingly she didn't suffer too much and had parents who took a responsible role once they began to notice some peculiarities. She and her brother were twins, always of significant interest to nonconsensual human experimenters, and as far as I could tell, weren't long term patients. Later, she hung out with Leonard Cohen off and on and has some interesting observations to offer on him. Interestingly, he also seems to be an MKULTRA victim, as mentioned to friends and associates of that time and place. Ann Diamond also confirms what I learned from Carol Rutz' book, A Nation Betrayed; that the criminal clinician Dr Ewan Cameron, at the CIA's behest, was working on children. The public version (first known in 1974, but not in Western Canada as I can personally attest), was that he was working on "disturbed" adults, or late age teenagers, some of whom didn't have psychiatric issues. But somehow, the net was in place among clinician, and the ideal patients/victims got scooped for his "treatment". "In the Sleep Room", and "I Swear by Apollo" are two books about this CIA sponsored Canadian infamy that fail to mention that children were part if this Machiavellian nightmare that had the knowledge of the highest in the land at the time.
I also learned from Ann Diamond's ("My Cold War") podcast on Auticulture, that McGill Unviversity in Montreal, or more accurately, the Allen Memorial Institute, threw out all the patient/victim records. So much for finding out if I was there for the duration I lived in Montreal, aged 2-5, 1956-59. I did write them once about eight years ago, and all I got was that there was no record of me. Of course they didn't say that they threw out all the records of this CIA sponsored infamy in about 1970, before it went public. It shows just how thin the veneer of civilization is, when they "need" to throw out the medical records of patient/victims over 10 years in one big purge. (The CIA did this too for all MKULTRA records. Another CIA "scoop" is The Strange Story of Sally Hartman). And to date, despite the current high drama of the politicians over aboriginal abuses in residential schools, and now the deemed LBGT abuses, (the PM shedding tears in Parliament for crissakes, he being a "B" or a "Q" IMHO) they still haven't addressed the outrageous abuses of the Duplessis orphans, (the supply of children for these medical atrocities), or those of the MKULTRA in Canada. No wonder the Duplessis Orphans have taken the Canadian government to the UN Court a hearing over these abuses. (For graphic eye witness details of these atrocities see Silvio Day's account at the link). Let's see if our self-declared "caring and sharing" PM can summon the gumption to deal with this one, though I doubt it, as he must be reporting to someone who has been keeping the lid on, just as the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) has.
Anyhow, I have only begun troving through Auticulture.com, and it is worth a read/listen for those who have come to their own determination that nothing is what it seems. He is from the UK, now living in Canada, and has a childhood cultural prop kicked out from under him, specifically, the children's TV program host, Sir Jimmy Savile. From what I can tell, he was an extreme pedophile, with abettors at the highest level in the UK, and Europe to some extent. And he gets knighted, ("Sir") for his charity work; surely the Royal advisors must of known this, as it went on for so long, and was so prevalent. Which casts deep aspersions as to what the Royal Family is all about, and who they really serve.
Besides cigpapers, Aangirafan and Mother of Darkness have provided some interesting reading of late. One has to wonder if pedophilia isn't prerequisite for high office, Pizzagate being another example. Its dark down this rabbit hole, and I exist in only one corner of it.
Back to gratuitous mention games, as in dropping specific words that happen to be topical, when the perpetrating party should have no idea of such. Or aka, managed coincidences. To wit, I had the clutch in my vehicle replaced, and they finished it early, so my fickle friend drove me to the shop and I paid for it, and it drove my just-repaired vehicle up to Kelowna for my radiotherapy treatment visit today. I had to do a lot of prior online research on clutches to get the one that wasn't ridiculously expensive, nor a cheapie. I expressly wanted to avoid the latter, as this vehicle has had two clutches in 118k km, and they shouldn't wear that fast. (My perp abetting parents owned the vehicle until Jan. 2017). Needless to say, between researching, obtaining, and finally getting the repair finished this morning, the term "clutch" (as in driveline vehicle part, not the woman's purse thing), has been germane for at least three weeks.
And so today at the radiotherapy waiting room, this logger guy was holding forth, and a guy opposite him was detailing his woes about his chainsaw and that it bogged down under load. The logger then started into attempting to figure the problem out; "does it have a clutch on the drive shaft?". The perps now wipe me out so I don't notice these "name droppings" at the time, and only let me in on it later in the day. No doubt this one still has some legs, but I hope it isn't the new drive line clutch that begets more mention.
And the above mentioned logger guy kept banging on the arm rest of the sofa we occupied, and of course, the vibration transmits over to me. Normally I avoid shared public furniture for that very reason. Now in the sixth and last week of M-F radiotherapy, they finally herded me onto this particular seat. Its the same at concert venues, aircraft and like shared seat situations; some asshole starts up the seat banging in order to have the vibrations transmit to me. Said logger guy also did his best to do some arm waving in my peripheral vision; we did that at least twice before in the past two weeks, though not with him. Why does this insane shit go on relentlessly now for 15 years?
I feel fatter than ever today; the radiotherapy has already puffed me up by 15lb, and that was last week. Given the past transgressions of clinical criminality of giving me dopamine blocking medications which puffed me up 30lb, I suspect the gamma radiation of the radiotherapy is depleting my dopamine in and around my prostate. This is a focused beam, aka, conformal external beam radiotherapy, and is aimed at my prostate by way of a prior CT scan that determines its precise location each visit, with a little extra outside tolerance. So... it is clear to me that this whole radiotherapy is all about depleting my dopamine, this time in a very specific location. (Dopamine is a hormone, and not just a neurotransmitter in the central nervous system). Haven't we done this shit before? Yes; 5 months of illegal incarceration in 2003 to give me dopamine agonists that beat the hell out of me. And IMHO this whole prostate cancer would of never happened had I been allowed my very effective dopamine agonist medication, as dopamine mediates the immune system, one of its many hormonal effects. And it simply isn't enough to be dopamine deficient all one's life, and be ADD and dysthymic. Then they jump on the victim, harass the living shit out of him, and then deplete yet more dopamine, all the way to radiotherapy.
Yoga tonight; the usual high turnover where there is 80% turnover each visit. They put on two dudes, one of them going shirtless halfway through. Neither seemed to be much into yoga, and ditto for most of the class. I ended up in front of the instructor, as my usual two locations were taken up, even if I got there early. The dude behind me needed to hover all around me after class, at the pinch point where the coat rack and the couch to sit down and put my boots on. Been there, had it done to me.
Though arriving at yoga seemed to be a big deal for the perps; the former instructor walked out as I walked in without so much as a hello or a glance, aka the pretend-not-to-know-me gambit. The current instructor, young and easy to look at, then glided into my peripheral vision and said hello, with a smile. Normally she is at the front desk and says hello, as I would see her when I enter and approach the desk to sign in. For some reason the perps had me initially freaked out by her entering my visual field, and blanked me out for a second or two as to who she was. I don't ever make those mistakes; once I see someone I don't ever forget them, especially a yoga instructor whom I see all class, now for at least six classes. I just don't appreciate in any way having my recognition fucked with, and nor do I appreciate being planted with inappropriate reactions.
11-28-2017
Another radiotherapy treatment trip today, now the 4th to last. Owing to "hygeine" apparently, they removed all the magazines and the jig saw puzzle which I never bothered with. So... I was suddenly bereft of reading material for my 40 min. wait, and there was always something interesting. And to add to the waiting room blues, the usual radiotherapy machine was unexpectedly down, so the appointment was about 10 min. late. And then to add to the drama, so to speak, the guy next to me screwed off with my clothes in the standard issue plastic bag. They were there at my feet, and his were on the couch beside him, and "somehow" he made a mistake. Anyhow, the RT technician retrieved them shortly, while the E. Indian woman RT technician began to set me up in in the adjacent (to the usual) room. This one was a mirror image of the usual radiotherapy room I have been treated in for the past five weeks. No big deal, and the RT machine was the same, just that its paneling was a blue-green, instead of grey.
Anyhow, I got done, changed, and then on the way out the clusterfucking began; first at the doors with an elder dude on a walker and attendant, who then dithered and then stalked still outside, which by then, I had sufficient room to walk around them and walk through the parking lot instead of the sidewalk. By the time I got to my vehicle, it was a four vehicle clusterfuck, keeping me in place, and then when I was about to exit, it became a six vehicle clusterfuck in this too small parking lot. Then the elder duckie's attendant backed out, and then the duckie on his walker did a protracted vehicle entrance, having to put the walker away in the trunk as well. Why they didn't make use of the roundabout at the rotunda entrance to the cancer clinic I have no idea. A major vehicle pod around me in getting out of Kelowna as well, all at 1240h on a week day for crissakes. The traffic was traveling at a good clip, but even at that, the elder duckie and his attendant somehow kept immediately in front of me for another 15km. This pair covered me at the entrance doors in the cancer center, in the parking lot with their unnecessarily extended vehicle egress, and then when in their Volvo, from the parking lot through 6 blocks of traffic to the highway for 15km. Not bad, it could of been for further.
On the vehicular stalking show, platform tow trucks seem to be playing big; I must of seen at least 10 en route today. (I won't count the ATV in the back of the pickup truck, but there is always two or three of those).
Later, when back in Penticton, the "need" came on to get a salon tan, and lo, there was major traffic trains in place for that. Then the loafers in the waiting area, and another woman (blonde) walking at me and then cutting to my R side in the classic perp stalker move. Even more vehicle trains when headed back to my place. Somehow, I forgot to take my phone, and lo, there was a message from my fickle friend that our former employer had sold his winery to a major player in the Okanagan Valley. As to what was all important to the perps in all of that, I have no idea. I suspect the above mentioned change in the radiotherapy treatment room just might of got them started.
And what is with the older blondes of late? Mid-40's to 60 y.o., shorter hair, no longer than shoulder length, and sometimes deliberately standing around for no reason. Hair is "roughed up", shredded, or whatever the term is for loosely arranged straight hair, but not in uniform cascades. I have been getting more of them at yoga of late, and also at the cancer center waiting room. Yesterday, after finishing my gamma ray treatment, dressed and heading out, (prime gangstalk moment) one was standing in the hallway looking away, leaning on something, and seeming waiting for someone. Not dressed as a patient, but someone who might be helping one, but the waiting room was only 10' away with plenty of seats, so why stand in the hallway? I was looking at her, though there wasn't much to see with her puffy red down coat on, and just then she turned her head to catch my eye. I kept on walking, not wanting to make any further contact. So what was the point of that? To provide me some kind of older blonde visual bait, at the soonest moment of post-irradiative treatment? Had she been in the waiting room there wouldn't of been any likely visual contact, and certainly not from 3' away. There does seem be an older/elder blonde woman show going on of late, though I am hardly looking for anyone. Perhaps the perps are extrapolating my attraction to younger blondes to older ones. I don't know, or care; just leave me alone.
Ditto for yoga last night; the older blonde with the short shredded hair next to me, and her gorgeous daughter one mat removed. Another family gangstalk event it would seem.
And speaking of blondes; the RT technician who sorted out the swapped clothing bags for me was blonde, and young too. Stocky, and not the quintessential model frame, but genuinely pleasant, a rarity. And big on touches too, not just the usual prodding and positioning while I am on the table, getting positioned with the lasers.
11-29-2017
... radio therapy, ... doctor visit, waiting room ... ambulance chasing... A real one today, with lights flashing on the highway etc. not just the ones cruising around for no seeming reason. Sometimes they follow or lead me to the hospital from 10 miles or more.
For some reason I ended up at LD in mid-day, when normally I go in the evening. The place is becoming a total gangstalking show. And worse yet, they set me up for a total gangstalking skunk. Not only were the two checkouts plugged up, and no end of Fuckwits in pretend shopping mode, but they posted Fuckwits at each of the four shelf locations I wanted to go. Once I saw the crowd at the checkouts, I dumped my intended chocolate purchase and split. Not only extra vehicles, extra aircraft coverage, even a co-worker "chance" meeting in the parking lot. Another fuckwit standing at his Volvo wagon outside with the door open, and a cold wind outside, and not even smoking, the usual excuse for looking stupid while loitering, other than vagrants and doddering duckies. This post-radio therapy treatment return outing in Penticton is highly stalked as I have come to experience over the past five weeks.
11-30-2017
Thursday, and the penultimate radiotherapy treatment today. The waiting room was relatively unpopulated, and perhaps it was the higher elevation snow that deterred out of town patients. It was rainy for most of my journey, though not seriously so. Though, I didn't get into treatment any earlier. It was the two dudes show, the radiotherapy technicians who get to move me into position and line up my markers they tattooed on me back in September. One new to me today, hanging back in the room when I entered with the one that I knew. They seem to like to bring on the Unfavoreds in this furtive manner for some reason.
I got the hallway ditherer buzzing around me when dressed in my togs and ready; the doddering geriatrics are the best excuse for loitering Fuckwits after vagrants. This geriatric stalker was on me when I wanted to exit the waiting room to get loaded up on water (full bladder is a requirement), then again when at the water cooler down the hall. There she asked me about where to pick up the bus. Like WTF; I don't take the bus so how would I know? Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed with my water intake and where I get it from, and what vessels, pipes, filters etc. that it has passed through. And one cannot trust anyone in these circumstances of being stalked and harassed all the time.
And for once they cleared the hallway once my treatment was over and I got to walk at my normal comparative (this is a hospital) fast pace. Absolutely no one stepping in my way, though a few "crossovers", (crossing my path), one being yesterday's medical assistant who got to ask all those questions before the doctor came in the room (and pretended not to know me).
But the perps weren't done yet, as they pulled a two lane closure on the Kelowna (Bennett) bridge S bound, when I was home bound. Only the R most lane was available, and I had to move over two lanes as there aren't any prior overhead lane indicators. And it was the most ridiculous set up of a "traffic accident"; one grey min-van and six (yes) black vehicles were parked up against the barrier, 1' or so apart, and no sign of any collision, not even road debris. And the ambulance, (remember them, driving up and down every day nearly for five weeks), was in the center lane, and the traffic control people were out too. Plenty of flashing white, red and yellow lights of course. As I drove by, one elder male with white flowing locks was being ushered into the ambulance on my side, the putative patient was mobile and on his feet. And the attendant fireman (fire truck in front, blocking both lanes) turned his head to look at me while I drove by. Like WTF; attend to your job, and why single me out with no end of vehicles slowly streaming past. One of the six black vehicles, (all the black vehicles were in a contiguous line, and the one grey colored van at the E end), was a black Suburban with full tinted windows, not unlike the one that would cruise around me four years ago. I have been through so many faked vehicle accidents I have given up counting, though I haven't seen a larger one like this for a few years.
But the perps weren't done yet; two minutes later a Fuckwit pulls and no-notice lane change in my face just to piss me off, just as I was accelerating in the L most lane, and then the truck in front of him drives within 1" of the concrete barrier so he could throw up sand and grit that was there in the lane median next to the concrete barrier. How fucking stupid was that? He could of flipped the thing, he was that close. I need to get a dash cam to record the vehicular stupidity outbreaks, though with my usual (enforced) bad luck, the only time they would put on stunts would be when it wasn't working.
Then as I cruised through my last traffic light of my 80km trip, the perps put on a real accident. A woman in a black vehicle shot out from the fuel station into the path of a oncoming white vehicle, and they contacted front bumpers. She stopped broadside to the traffic to then hold up it more, but eventually they both crossed the road in front and pulled over so I could drive past them and witness some real, but minor, vehicle damage.
And what is it with black and white vehicles of late? Six black vehicles were clustered around me when setting off yesterday to keep me stuck behind a redi-mix truck, a long standing perp prop. Today, it was four black vehicles while I was kept behind an tractor trailer at the same location. Yesterday, a strange driving behavior was on show, where the Fuckwit would change lanes at each curve in the road, this at 100km/hour, when there was no other traffic an the lanes were plenty wide and the curves were gentle enough to keep one's speed up. I have never seen anything like this before; normally if someone gets "afraid" of a bend, they put on their brakes instead of crossing over to the next lane, and the weather wasn't a factor either.
Red and white vehicles are also common, arranged together in a single visual field. And then they add in Alberta vehicles with their white and red lettered license plates.
My local fickle friend was hanging out at the mall waiting for his car to be fixed and wanted company, so I obliged with a rendezvous at Starbucks there. Another post-treatment outing as it turned out, and what a holy vehicular gangstalking it was. While at Starbucks I also got to see the construction babe from last year's job site, as she "happened" to be on her way out. We chatted briefly, which is kind of like what it was last year at this very same location; I was headed out and she had just arrived. No time for an extended chat in either instance, but what a coincidence, the only two times I have been to that particular Starbucks, and she flits in or out.
So there I was in a public busy area for about 1.5 hours as no end of customers happened to be passing by, and the close-in backpack sweep didn't go unnoticed either. Even my former boss' wife stopped by without so much as a hello. Another pretend-not-to-know me stalker was the green and black haired woman, a cashier at SOF, whom I connected with at least twice (over ADD), who stood 3' away and didn't bother to look up from her smart phone.
12-01-2017
Friday, and my last day of radiotherapy, now six weeks of driving to Kelowna each day is over. I see they had all the plastic bins, possibly for laundry, lining the hallway on my way in, constricting hallway width by 3'. The waiting room crowd was much diminished, only one other. But I do find it curious as to the number of passing Fuckwits that need to stare in while looking back, or stop and look in for nothing, as they are on their way out, post treatment. (I recognized the patients doing this).
Just when I thought I saw the end of Ms. Cne last week, the purposely unpleasant radiotherapy technician of two weeks ago, who only attended me one time, she just "happened" to cruising the hallway oncoming on my last 30' before the doorway of my last radiotherapy session. I didn't bother to glance at her as I knew she would be in her grim countenance state. After her back-and-forth hallway strut of two weeks ago when she put on the grimace for me, she also "happened" to be doing her heading away hallway strut last week as I was signing in one morning, and as soon as I formulated an internal "who cares" thought, a thump noise came from somewhere. Back to thought stalking, or at least, being aware of it. She is attractive somewhat, and I do find her hair especially interesting, but beyond that I have no interest, and yet she plays this unpleasant card. The generalized term for her would be "bitch", but my benchmark for that term is higher than most, so I don't use it as I really had no major interaction with her, apart from a one-time event on the radio-treatment bed and for some reason, she had to apply a solution to my freckle sized positioning tattoo in the middle. Needless to say, the perps played her in mind all the way back, some 50 minutes of driving.
Immigration and the attendant over promotion on CBC and in the media all over; I don't get it as this piece, Immigration Is Destruction articulates. And the civil authorities bend over backwards to "accommodate" the excesses of the perpetrators. Here is the report on what happened in Rotherham in the UK:
The scale of the abuse was horrendous, the violence harrowing... The key fact about this brutal crime wave was that almost all the predators were men of Pakistani and Kashmiri origin, while the majority of their victims were white.I am not the first to mention this, but it seems that these targeted rapes (e.g. Rotherham) that this whole government promoted multiculturalism is nothing but a takedown of the West. Hasn't anyone figured out the irony of the African migrants flooding into Europe in droves of late, (though having paid for passage), so they can get away from their own kind and their own behaviors? And somehow they expect it to be different? Meanwhile the do-gooders and the do-nothings prevaricate and equivocate. Di-worse-ity, and still the media saps spout this rubbish that serves their masters.
That is precisely why the abuse went on so long and the terrible suffering of the girls was ignored. The authorities in Rotherham failed to act because the race-fixated dogma of anti-discrimination meant that they had completely lost their moral bearings and every last vestige of compassion
Mexico City was the most "diverse" city in the world in 1650, per "1493" by Charles Mann) and look at them now. The violence and corruption is rife, and the place is an armed camp. And they still cannot literally get their shit together, as the extensive barrios don't have a sewer system, so fecal dust is flying all over the place in the summer when the weather systems keep it in the basin where Mexico City sits.
12-03-2017
More troving on Jasun Horsley's Auticulture.com, and listening to the podcasts with Ann Diamond, (parts 1,3 and parts 3,4) a Montreal native in the 1950-50's, and an MKULTRA experimentee, though seemingly she didn't suffer too much and had parents who took a responsible role once they began to notice some peculiarities. She and her brother were twins, always of significant interest to nonconsensual human experimenters, and as far as I could tell, weren't long term patients. Later, she hung out with Leonard Cohen off and on and has some interesting observations to offer on him. Interestingly, he also seems to be an MKULTRA victim, as mentioned to friends and associates of that time and place. Ann Diamond also confirms what I learned from Carol Rutz' book, A Nation Betrayed; that the criminal clinician Dr Ewan Cameron, at the CIA's behest, was working on children. The public version (first known in 1974, but not in Western Canada as I can personally attest), was that he was working on "disturbed" adults, or late age teenagers, some of whom didn't have psychiatric issues. But somehow, the net was in place among clinician, and the ideal patients/victims got scooped for his "treatment". "In the Sleep Room", and "I Swear by Apollo" are two books about this CIA sponsored Canadian infamy that fail to mention that children were part if this Machiavellian nightmare that had the knowledge of the highest in the land at the time.
I also learned from Ann Diamond's ("My Cold War") podcast on Auticulture, that McGill Unviversity in Montreal, or more accurately, the Allen Memorial Institute, threw out all the patient/victim records. So much for finding out if I was there for the duration I lived in Montreal, aged 2-5, 1956-59. I did write them once about eight years ago, and all I got was that there was no record of me. Of course they didn't say that they threw out all the records of this CIA sponsored infamy in about 1970, before it went public. It shows just how thin the veneer of civilization is, when they "need" to throw out the medical records of patient/victims over 10 years in one big purge. (The CIA did this too for all MKULTRA records. Another CIA "scoop" is The Strange Story of Sally Hartman). And to date, despite the current high drama of the politicians over aboriginal abuses in residential schools, and now the deemed LBGT abuses, (the PM shedding tears in Parliament for crissakes, he being a "B" or a "Q" IMHO) they still haven't addressed the outrageous abuses of the Duplessis orphans, (the supply of children for these medical atrocities), or those of the MKULTRA in Canada. No wonder the Duplessis Orphans have taken the Canadian government to the UN Court a hearing over these abuses. (For graphic eye witness details of these atrocities see Silvio Day's account at the link). Let's see if our self-declared "caring and sharing" PM can summon the gumption to deal with this one, though I doubt it, as he must be reporting to someone who has been keeping the lid on, just as the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) has.
Anyhow, I have only begun troving through Auticulture.com, and it is worth a read/listen for those who have come to their own determination that nothing is what it seems. He is from the UK, now living in Canada, and has a childhood cultural prop kicked out from under him, specifically, the children's TV program host, Sir Jimmy Savile. From what I can tell, he was an extreme pedophile, with abettors at the highest level in the UK, and Europe to some extent. And he gets knighted, ("Sir") for his charity work; surely the Royal advisors must of known this, as it went on for so long, and was so prevalent. Which casts deep aspersions as to what the Royal Family is all about, and who they really serve.
Besides cigpapers, Aangirafan and Mother of Darkness have provided some interesting reading of late. One has to wonder if pedophilia isn't prerequisite for high office, Pizzagate being another example. Its dark down this rabbit hole, and I exist in only one corner of it.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Monday Hijinx Confluence
05-12-2014
A busy Monday for the perps, and I haven't made it to yoga yet. After work I exchanged screws I bought three days ago as they scrambled me into getting the wrong size. Then to an agricultural equipment supplier and lo, if they weren't out of the very color of flagging tape I wanted (for work), and out of Atlas Thermofit gloves, size L, So off to another store that has them, and lo, if they didn't obstruct the checkout with some 8 Fuckwits all waiting there. At the gloves display, they had a woman in a dayglo shirt hunkered down and attending to her young child the entire two minutes I was there. A obstruction as I found the gloves but put them on a nearby display and walked out of the store empty handed. Then to the liquor store to get a particular kind of beer to pay the guy who drilled 24 holes into my brackets for my rackmount project. (A computer rack that will hold both stereo gear and computer gear in one cabinet. At the liquor store checkout a hefty 6'6" idiot was getting way too close, plus they added a lead-ahead tail on me getting out. The gangstalking got heavy once I found the particular kind of beer and went to the checkout. Heavy vehicular swarms coming and going.
Once I got to my residence, there was a new CD in the mail, time to play it while typing this, male Country and Western singer, first time I bought his music. Taking posession of something is a huge gangstalk/harassment moment for the perps.
Then more invasive coincidence; Yahoo is forcing a new password entry today, and given that I have a theme to keep them memorable, I had to do some reworking with the letters, numbers and special characters.
Back from yoga; a blonde exited her parked white pickup, timing it to get ahead of me at the sign-in desk, as in lead-ahead gangstalk mode. It turned out she had tattoos on her calves, revealed by her capri tights. She takes the location in the practice room where Her Blondeness was usually stationed for well over a year of classes. She is a tall 6' blonde woman with tattoos on her wrists only. And as it "happened' the younger regular blonde woman who also had tattoos on her calves (also revealed by capri tights) wasn't there today when she had been a regular for some 3 months. Anyhow, I can barely keep on top of the blondes, their relative sizes and their tattoos at yoga, so why would I expect my readership to? Don't worry, I will call it the Yogic Tattoo-ed Blonde Rotations, and leave it at that.
Only seven other classmates at yoga tonight, one being one of the regular males. He was in his usual spot, putting on his heavy breathing act again, even in child's pose for crissakes. If he was that winded in this Power Yoga class, he shouldn't be there. But of course, he was there to put on the breathing noise, and for whatever purpose that serves the perps and their abiding interest in "the breath", and all those fundamental yogic associations.
One class member was my ex-coworker on the vineyard of two years ago, returning from the University of Chicago with a Masters degree in journalism. As usual (as of two weeks ago) she was evasive and made sure there was minimal interaction, like I was toxic waste, which I might be for all I know in this rabbit hole, as a Prisoner In Disguise.
More rude shit in this town after yoga, in a grocery store; a woman coming in close on my L side and then going around me to the R side at the grocery store, as in personal space violation. Like WTF; I got out of there, and lo if the cashier wasn't opening the checkout in advance of me arriving. Funny how they know.
I see my CD jewel case, brand new as of today, has four cracks and a corner crunched when I got back from yoga. I don't know why the perps like to crack plastic objects, but CD cases usually get the "fumble treatment"; they cause it to leave my hands and land on a hard object and then crack it. Not this time; no apparent cause, just out-and-out sabotage, aka "welcome back, look what we did".
05-13-2014
Tuesday, my assigned day of feeling sluggish, as if "from" yoga, which it isn't. Sure, the yoga instructor has something new and different each week, but it isn't that radical to cause all of me to be tired/physically slow. And forgetful, as evidenced by the number of repeated trips along the irrigation rows. Though to be fair, I was hand packing all the tools as the RTV was tied up on fertilizing duty.
I also trained and oversaw the Albanian guy who started today on "suckering", that is, de-suckering or removing the shoots from the trunk region. Shoots from the tied down canes is what we want of course, as that is where the grapes grow. My four year daughter at the time pointed out that "dusting" (removing dust from indoor surfaces) should be called "un-dusting" to be grammatically consistent. I had to agree with her on that point. The perps just love these semantic confusions.
On irrigation duty today at the vineyard, getting the drip systems going. A number of them have been disrupted by winter weather, and the little sprayers are getting clogged up. Even sand grains in the water supply line, which means filtering isn't really happening. The perps just love water interactions, especially after it travels through plastic pipes and sprinkler heads. Back in 1996 I bought a farm and took on significant upgrades to the irrigation and main lines (and to the house). It cost me at least $5k for the excavator and trucking, and here we still are, having the victim (me) putzing with irrigation parts. This is the water supply from the lake, some 120' elevation above, and I expect to be working on a nearby creek to get its water supply to the property. Combine that with overhead power transmission lines, and it would seem this property is a slice of perp heaven for examining these two significant variables of all things energetic, etheric or otherwise.
On the drive home, a white and almond vehicle pair ahead of me, after three vehicles (silver grey, deep red, deep green) peeled off in making the same L turn at an intersection. As it so "happens" I have a white face cloth sitting on an almond colored pedestal sink in the bathroom, so perhaps the perps were attempting in the wild to whatever color reactions they can detect here in my residence.
And some eight vehicles ahead of me and at least four following; it is rare to have the latter for extended drives, save intersections. Two whites immediately following me to keep my "white" color reading, in advance of the above mentioned white-almond pair that was revealed.
05-14-2014
I helped out doing the vineyard fertilizer spreading today. The fertilizer is in the form of prills, small round slow release balls, and lo, if wasn't plenty of spilling as it was hand applied, even in my boot and on my clothes. I suppose fertilizer mus interact with the chemical ether, as very often there is fertilizer applied near where I am walking or passing.
I stopped at the R**a big box hardware store on my way home, and the same blonde woman cashier bitch that pulled the reciept from my hand to put her finger nail scratch on the reciept from a few months ago "happened" to be the only available cashier. I usually avoid her, but this time there was no other choice. Sure enough, just as she was giving me change, she leans in some 6" toward me and then stares at me. Fucking creepy, this strange public behavior.
At the gym tonight; the same routine of the shiftless males coursing around me, doing nothing but looking into the distance. Multicultural games too; an E. Indian male comes toward me and then stops and does a 180 degree turn and heads back to where he was. Some two minutes later, after I has gone elsewhere he then re-walks the same path, but going to the exercise balls and then sitting on it, doing nothing else, just looking around, for the next five minutes. Unbelievable.
05-16-2014
I cannot get to my email via my so-called smart phone; Yahoo had me changed the password (per above) and the one special character I used is not on the Android keypad for crissakes. What a coincidence, as in staged adversity.
Then the vineyard office PC wasn't running/usable for me to get to my email either. All this extra daytime email "need" was about a job posting, all to no avail as it later turned out.
Another delay in getting to my email this evening, the (new) 4x1 HDMI splitter failed and I had to rewire it directly from the PC to this LCD panel instead of going through the switch. Which is a major pain in the ass as now I cannot get the Oppo player to switch to this same LCD display, and instead, re-connect more cables. The very thing I bought this infernal HDMI switch for isn't doable. Infuriating, especially when waiting 5 weeks for thing to arrive. This switch was to be the heart of my "digital convergence"; playing internet, TV and video through the same display and speaker set up. And have I mentioned the perps just love to mess with switches, wire signal/power paths, cable colors, lighted buttons and the like? Way too often I suspect.
Finally, I get to my email at home and after switch cables, and there is no message from the person I was expecting one from. I wonder if this job opening will suddenly go dead; that is, a promising job posting and an encouraging reply, to which I confirm that I am interested, and then poof, nothing happens at all. The black hole of the internet comes on. All arranged immediately prior to a three day weekend, the Victoria Day holiday, all to sustain the suspense/annoyance. Totally predictable in a hindsight kind of way. They don't sabotage everything, all the time, but instead allow a sliver of hope at the begining, and then hit the victim with a jerkaround/go dead/sabotage stunt. Aka FUD swamping the victim.
Brown box games; two vehicles arriving, one each side of me as I finished packing a blue jacket (one size too big) in it to send back for a size L. A green dressed ambulatory stalker on me at the next stop in the parking lot and then "happening" by when I finished up at the LD store where the post office is. It is a rare event that I purchase a pack a brown box in a parking lot, having brought my tape dispenser and felt pen to address it.
At the vineyard today, extra obvious stalking by the Albanian, somehow stopping in mid-row so he could start in the row immediately behind me after I began a new row of vines. (Have I mentioned that a direction change is a big perp harassment moment, aka, anisotropic event? Too often) Earlier, this half-wit took his morning break immediately following me. I worked to 1030h (0700h start) and took my break (much later than usual), and lo, if he didn't come in as soon as I sat down. He eats in his red metallic maroon vehicle (prime gangstalking color), and parks in the strangest places, eg. where everyone turns their vehicles and a half-assed transverse to the only paved driveway. Yesterday, his parking was at least 10 rows removed where he finished up, meaning extra walking time to get to it, and from my experience, sane farm laborers don't ever do that, especially a certain Asian group.
And at my residence, what it with the headphone wire suddenly going on the fritz and the music dropping out? This insane shit has gone on before, and it is consistent with other sources/devices/headphones suddenly
05-17-2014
Saturday, and so far (1100h) a day of fucking hell. It began with the mold I found (again) in the NW corner of this place, on my suitcase which was stored there 2" away from the wall. There is no way mold should of been there, but it was.
Then the detergent jug leaked in the laundry duffle bag, and had to be cleaned up. (This being laundry day). The change machine at the laundromat was on the fritz again, so I had barely enough change to start the clothes in two washing machines.
My vehicle had a layer of yellow pollen on it, and so with the grey and yellow mold on the suitcase, I decided to take it to the car wash though the instruction signs make it clear that one is to wash a vehicle only, nothing else. The change machine there didn't take my $20 either, and I went to the attendant's office, but the door was locked. On my way back he (in a fugly ponytail, ballcap and shorts, -count four Unfavoreds) caught up with me and I gave him my $20. After two attempts he finally got it to make change after several attempts at a different machine. I washed my vehicle, and when ready to wash the briefcase I checked around, and he was busy outside washing a vehicle. I cleaned the suitcase up for some two minutes, and put it back in the trunk. About a minute later he comes through my bay for no seeming reason, and did this at least twice more as I continued with washing my vehicle. When I exited in my vehicle, why, he was standing at the wall with his hands on his hips as if fed up with me and my non-car cleaning (which he never saw. I just don't understand these kind of arranged events where someone acts if they know what I did but did not know in conventional physical terms.
The HDMI switcher began working as "somehow" the power cord was pulled out of the transformer box by 1/4", an old time perp trick which I somehow forgot. Now that the switcher is working (can be turned on/off) why, the signal won't go to this here PC, and I had to yet again re-route the wires after I had undone yesterday's re-routing
1645h
I got major stalked on a three stop out more chase down, this time at athe bank, and the hamper thing, rolling it just past me, getting it closer than the stalker dragging could. Then behind me, a fat elder Fuckwit in red and on his cell phone. Four same red vehicles dispersed in the parking lot, and lo, if my phone camera didn't work at that moment. And the outdoor lighting isn't on any more, the sodium arc lamp outside was on in day time for the past two years, but isn't now.
I got screwed out of an additonal errand due to a forced "forget"; this is for wall anchors, an ongoing hassle in getting the right size to mount towel rails in the bathroom. Then too, I got screwed out of a plastic bag (sack in US) to pack my groceries out to the vehicle. They always ask me, and suddenly they don't.
05-19-2014
Monday, and a nationnal holiday. The smoke alarm went off for no apparent reason and I had to take it down and get the battery out.
Yesterday, everyone went quiet at the R**a store checkout while I was paying cash, and too, delays, with this Fuckwit staff member in a wheelchair buzzing around the cashier, and then behind me, he in a staff yellow shirt. Then a red dressed fuckwit followed me out to the door, and then stopped and turned around in some mock interest in something. I haven't had an "all quiet" eruption occur for at least four years, and then it "happens" again.
A hike today, and hordes of vehicles on the road, along with the much loathed HD motorcycles and their noise. Another herd of at least 30 elder hikers again, this time before I got to the junction, so instead I went to a different destination. I wasn't alone as it "happened"; while eating my lunch a boy of 16 y.o. or so in shorts only runs down the trail with his dog some 150' away. I was off the trail and observing his activity (aka, constant threat assessment). Then he stops, mills around for three minutes or so, encircling a cluster of trees, and then he starts running again, but in the opposite direction, toward the way he came from. I have seen plenty of 180 degree ambulatory stalking stunts, but this one was positively berserk. It is the first time they have sent a stalker to this location, but as always, I am never alone for long.
The perps pulled a cloud to obstruct the sun while sitting down, so no tanning there. They had me get a tan back at my residence though, an hour outside and reading the McLibel story. And of course, the neighborhood noise started up; hot rod mufflers noise, no muffler noise, HD motorcycles and some lawnmower noise added in.
Time to get this posted, and slack of me to not get this done yesterday (Sunday).
A busy Monday for the perps, and I haven't made it to yoga yet. After work I exchanged screws I bought three days ago as they scrambled me into getting the wrong size. Then to an agricultural equipment supplier and lo, if they weren't out of the very color of flagging tape I wanted (for work), and out of Atlas Thermofit gloves, size L, So off to another store that has them, and lo, if they didn't obstruct the checkout with some 8 Fuckwits all waiting there. At the gloves display, they had a woman in a dayglo shirt hunkered down and attending to her young child the entire two minutes I was there. A obstruction as I found the gloves but put them on a nearby display and walked out of the store empty handed. Then to the liquor store to get a particular kind of beer to pay the guy who drilled 24 holes into my brackets for my rackmount project. (A computer rack that will hold both stereo gear and computer gear in one cabinet. At the liquor store checkout a hefty 6'6" idiot was getting way too close, plus they added a lead-ahead tail on me getting out. The gangstalking got heavy once I found the particular kind of beer and went to the checkout. Heavy vehicular swarms coming and going.
Once I got to my residence, there was a new CD in the mail, time to play it while typing this, male Country and Western singer, first time I bought his music. Taking posession of something is a huge gangstalk/harassment moment for the perps.
Then more invasive coincidence; Yahoo is forcing a new password entry today, and given that I have a theme to keep them memorable, I had to do some reworking with the letters, numbers and special characters.
Back from yoga; a blonde exited her parked white pickup, timing it to get ahead of me at the sign-in desk, as in lead-ahead gangstalk mode. It turned out she had tattoos on her calves, revealed by her capri tights. She takes the location in the practice room where Her Blondeness was usually stationed for well over a year of classes. She is a tall 6' blonde woman with tattoos on her wrists only. And as it "happened' the younger regular blonde woman who also had tattoos on her calves (also revealed by capri tights) wasn't there today when she had been a regular for some 3 months. Anyhow, I can barely keep on top of the blondes, their relative sizes and their tattoos at yoga, so why would I expect my readership to? Don't worry, I will call it the Yogic Tattoo-ed Blonde Rotations, and leave it at that.
Only seven other classmates at yoga tonight, one being one of the regular males. He was in his usual spot, putting on his heavy breathing act again, even in child's pose for crissakes. If he was that winded in this Power Yoga class, he shouldn't be there. But of course, he was there to put on the breathing noise, and for whatever purpose that serves the perps and their abiding interest in "the breath", and all those fundamental yogic associations.
One class member was my ex-coworker on the vineyard of two years ago, returning from the University of Chicago with a Masters degree in journalism. As usual (as of two weeks ago) she was evasive and made sure there was minimal interaction, like I was toxic waste, which I might be for all I know in this rabbit hole, as a Prisoner In Disguise.
More rude shit in this town after yoga, in a grocery store; a woman coming in close on my L side and then going around me to the R side at the grocery store, as in personal space violation. Like WTF; I got out of there, and lo if the cashier wasn't opening the checkout in advance of me arriving. Funny how they know.
I see my CD jewel case, brand new as of today, has four cracks and a corner crunched when I got back from yoga. I don't know why the perps like to crack plastic objects, but CD cases usually get the "fumble treatment"; they cause it to leave my hands and land on a hard object and then crack it. Not this time; no apparent cause, just out-and-out sabotage, aka "welcome back, look what we did".
05-13-2014
Tuesday, my assigned day of feeling sluggish, as if "from" yoga, which it isn't. Sure, the yoga instructor has something new and different each week, but it isn't that radical to cause all of me to be tired/physically slow. And forgetful, as evidenced by the number of repeated trips along the irrigation rows. Though to be fair, I was hand packing all the tools as the RTV was tied up on fertilizing duty.
I also trained and oversaw the Albanian guy who started today on "suckering", that is, de-suckering or removing the shoots from the trunk region. Shoots from the tied down canes is what we want of course, as that is where the grapes grow. My four year daughter at the time pointed out that "dusting" (removing dust from indoor surfaces) should be called "un-dusting" to be grammatically consistent. I had to agree with her on that point. The perps just love these semantic confusions.
On irrigation duty today at the vineyard, getting the drip systems going. A number of them have been disrupted by winter weather, and the little sprayers are getting clogged up. Even sand grains in the water supply line, which means filtering isn't really happening. The perps just love water interactions, especially after it travels through plastic pipes and sprinkler heads. Back in 1996 I bought a farm and took on significant upgrades to the irrigation and main lines (and to the house). It cost me at least $5k for the excavator and trucking, and here we still are, having the victim (me) putzing with irrigation parts. This is the water supply from the lake, some 120' elevation above, and I expect to be working on a nearby creek to get its water supply to the property. Combine that with overhead power transmission lines, and it would seem this property is a slice of perp heaven for examining these two significant variables of all things energetic, etheric or otherwise.
On the drive home, a white and almond vehicle pair ahead of me, after three vehicles (silver grey, deep red, deep green) peeled off in making the same L turn at an intersection. As it so "happens" I have a white face cloth sitting on an almond colored pedestal sink in the bathroom, so perhaps the perps were attempting in the wild to whatever color reactions they can detect here in my residence.
And some eight vehicles ahead of me and at least four following; it is rare to have the latter for extended drives, save intersections. Two whites immediately following me to keep my "white" color reading, in advance of the above mentioned white-almond pair that was revealed.
05-14-2014
I helped out doing the vineyard fertilizer spreading today. The fertilizer is in the form of prills, small round slow release balls, and lo, if wasn't plenty of spilling as it was hand applied, even in my boot and on my clothes. I suppose fertilizer mus interact with the chemical ether, as very often there is fertilizer applied near where I am walking or passing.
I stopped at the R**a big box hardware store on my way home, and the same blonde woman cashier bitch that pulled the reciept from my hand to put her finger nail scratch on the reciept from a few months ago "happened" to be the only available cashier. I usually avoid her, but this time there was no other choice. Sure enough, just as she was giving me change, she leans in some 6" toward me and then stares at me. Fucking creepy, this strange public behavior.
At the gym tonight; the same routine of the shiftless males coursing around me, doing nothing but looking into the distance. Multicultural games too; an E. Indian male comes toward me and then stops and does a 180 degree turn and heads back to where he was. Some two minutes later, after I has gone elsewhere he then re-walks the same path, but going to the exercise balls and then sitting on it, doing nothing else, just looking around, for the next five minutes. Unbelievable.
05-16-2014
I cannot get to my email via my so-called smart phone; Yahoo had me changed the password (per above) and the one special character I used is not on the Android keypad for crissakes. What a coincidence, as in staged adversity.
Then the vineyard office PC wasn't running/usable for me to get to my email either. All this extra daytime email "need" was about a job posting, all to no avail as it later turned out.
Another delay in getting to my email this evening, the (new) 4x1 HDMI splitter failed and I had to rewire it directly from the PC to this LCD panel instead of going through the switch. Which is a major pain in the ass as now I cannot get the Oppo player to switch to this same LCD display, and instead, re-connect more cables. The very thing I bought this infernal HDMI switch for isn't doable. Infuriating, especially when waiting 5 weeks for thing to arrive. This switch was to be the heart of my "digital convergence"; playing internet, TV and video through the same display and speaker set up. And have I mentioned the perps just love to mess with switches, wire signal/power paths, cable colors, lighted buttons and the like? Way too often I suspect.
Finally, I get to my email at home and after switch cables, and there is no message from the person I was expecting one from. I wonder if this job opening will suddenly go dead; that is, a promising job posting and an encouraging reply, to which I confirm that I am interested, and then poof, nothing happens at all. The black hole of the internet comes on. All arranged immediately prior to a three day weekend, the Victoria Day holiday, all to sustain the suspense/annoyance. Totally predictable in a hindsight kind of way. They don't sabotage everything, all the time, but instead allow a sliver of hope at the begining, and then hit the victim with a jerkaround/go dead/sabotage stunt. Aka FUD swamping the victim.
Brown box games; two vehicles arriving, one each side of me as I finished packing a blue jacket (one size too big) in it to send back for a size L. A green dressed ambulatory stalker on me at the next stop in the parking lot and then "happening" by when I finished up at the LD store where the post office is. It is a rare event that I purchase a pack a brown box in a parking lot, having brought my tape dispenser and felt pen to address it.
At the vineyard today, extra obvious stalking by the Albanian, somehow stopping in mid-row so he could start in the row immediately behind me after I began a new row of vines. (Have I mentioned that a direction change is a big perp harassment moment, aka, anisotropic event? Too often) Earlier, this half-wit took his morning break immediately following me. I worked to 1030h (0700h start) and took my break (much later than usual), and lo, if he didn't come in as soon as I sat down. He eats in his red metallic maroon vehicle (prime gangstalking color), and parks in the strangest places, eg. where everyone turns their vehicles and a half-assed transverse to the only paved driveway. Yesterday, his parking was at least 10 rows removed where he finished up, meaning extra walking time to get to it, and from my experience, sane farm laborers don't ever do that, especially a certain Asian group.
And at my residence, what it with the headphone wire suddenly going on the fritz and the music dropping out? This insane shit has gone on before, and it is consistent with other sources/devices/headphones suddenly
05-17-2014
Saturday, and so far (1100h) a day of fucking hell. It began with the mold I found (again) in the NW corner of this place, on my suitcase which was stored there 2" away from the wall. There is no way mold should of been there, but it was.
Then the detergent jug leaked in the laundry duffle bag, and had to be cleaned up. (This being laundry day). The change machine at the laundromat was on the fritz again, so I had barely enough change to start the clothes in two washing machines.
My vehicle had a layer of yellow pollen on it, and so with the grey and yellow mold on the suitcase, I decided to take it to the car wash though the instruction signs make it clear that one is to wash a vehicle only, nothing else. The change machine there didn't take my $20 either, and I went to the attendant's office, but the door was locked. On my way back he (in a fugly ponytail, ballcap and shorts, -count four Unfavoreds) caught up with me and I gave him my $20. After two attempts he finally got it to make change after several attempts at a different machine. I washed my vehicle, and when ready to wash the briefcase I checked around, and he was busy outside washing a vehicle. I cleaned the suitcase up for some two minutes, and put it back in the trunk. About a minute later he comes through my bay for no seeming reason, and did this at least twice more as I continued with washing my vehicle. When I exited in my vehicle, why, he was standing at the wall with his hands on his hips as if fed up with me and my non-car cleaning (which he never saw. I just don't understand these kind of arranged events where someone acts if they know what I did but did not know in conventional physical terms.
The HDMI switcher began working as "somehow" the power cord was pulled out of the transformer box by 1/4", an old time perp trick which I somehow forgot. Now that the switcher is working (can be turned on/off) why, the signal won't go to this here PC, and I had to yet again re-route the wires after I had undone yesterday's re-routing
1645h
I got major stalked on a three stop out more chase down, this time at athe bank, and the hamper thing, rolling it just past me, getting it closer than the stalker dragging could. Then behind me, a fat elder Fuckwit in red and on his cell phone. Four same red vehicles dispersed in the parking lot, and lo, if my phone camera didn't work at that moment. And the outdoor lighting isn't on any more, the sodium arc lamp outside was on in day time for the past two years, but isn't now.
I got screwed out of an additonal errand due to a forced "forget"; this is for wall anchors, an ongoing hassle in getting the right size to mount towel rails in the bathroom. Then too, I got screwed out of a plastic bag (sack in US) to pack my groceries out to the vehicle. They always ask me, and suddenly they don't.
05-19-2014
Monday, and a nationnal holiday. The smoke alarm went off for no apparent reason and I had to take it down and get the battery out.
Yesterday, everyone went quiet at the R**a store checkout while I was paying cash, and too, delays, with this Fuckwit staff member in a wheelchair buzzing around the cashier, and then behind me, he in a staff yellow shirt. Then a red dressed fuckwit followed me out to the door, and then stopped and turned around in some mock interest in something. I haven't had an "all quiet" eruption occur for at least four years, and then it "happens" again.
A hike today, and hordes of vehicles on the road, along with the much loathed HD motorcycles and their noise. Another herd of at least 30 elder hikers again, this time before I got to the junction, so instead I went to a different destination. I wasn't alone as it "happened"; while eating my lunch a boy of 16 y.o. or so in shorts only runs down the trail with his dog some 150' away. I was off the trail and observing his activity (aka, constant threat assessment). Then he stops, mills around for three minutes or so, encircling a cluster of trees, and then he starts running again, but in the opposite direction, toward the way he came from. I have seen plenty of 180 degree ambulatory stalking stunts, but this one was positively berserk. It is the first time they have sent a stalker to this location, but as always, I am never alone for long.
The perps pulled a cloud to obstruct the sun while sitting down, so no tanning there. They had me get a tan back at my residence though, an hour outside and reading the McLibel story. And of course, the neighborhood noise started up; hot rod mufflers noise, no muffler noise, HD motorcycles and some lawnmower noise added in.
Time to get this posted, and slack of me to not get this done yesterday (Sunday).
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Early Noise Assault
0900h
The noise barrage started early this morning, before getting up at 0630h. Once up, I looked out for road traffic, and for the most part there was none. Not even the trucks and buses that made up for the apparent noise sources. The sickos had me especially cranked up about it, and then kept up the annoyances while making and eating breakfast. The usual stunts; faked noise of no ostensible cause, pulling the peanut butter off the knife, imposed finger fumbling, pulling items from my grasp, sending me to the wrong drawer or item, flicking water from no apparent source and the like. Only forty rage-ifications worth before heading to the bathroom for the shower, shave and dental hygiene routine, whereupon another twenty rage-fications were inflicted. The most gratuitous was whacking me in the dick with no apparent source. Typically, towel drying is used as an excuse to whack me, but I am now allowed to habitually control the loose end of the towel in daily anticipation of this insane stunt, and today was the same; the towel wasn't even applied in that particular region, wasn't even in motion, and then today, some unseen force field whacked me in the dick. Just like the towel games of years back. And the new razor blade today was allowed to cut cleanly, not always the case. But given the amount of perp interest in shaving every day, and the increasing abuse each day while this activity progresses, I was not surprised to see some 15 or so bleeding "cuts" on my torso, part of the shaving regimen. These are inflicted lesions, usually ovoid in shape, and erupt a few minutes after shaving and without any apparent source. They are not shaving cuts, as no pain or sensation occured when the razor was passing over, and are not the shape of a razor nick. And, it is nearly impossible to cut oneself with a modern day safety razor, and I am doing nothing odd to cause it to "happen". I suspect there are a few aims involved in this 5x weekly bloodletting; bringing various different blood sources to the skin surface; deep red unoxygenated blood and bright red blood side by side from the inflicted surficial lesions just doesn't compute. The second objective is probably the study of the trace absorption of the stypic pencil content, (anhydrous aluminum sulfate), how I staunch the blood lesions each time. And it has been noted in past blog postings that the sickos can prevent the stypic pencil from acting if they want, say, a 20 minute bloodletting to continue unabated, save applying pressure to the wound. (I have had spontaneous late evening time blood surges from a pore in my nose (no shaving association), whereby the blood is arranged to be exactly in my peripherial vision, and a stypic pencil will not work for some reason, only consistently applied pressure after some 20 minutes). Anyhow, perhaps this is all a warm up before I walk the gangstalker gauntlet into downtown, a whole two blocks, and deposit my paycheck as well as get more quarters for the laundry machine. Regular readers will know that financial transactions of any kind, including loading said quarters in the laundry machines, will be noisestalked, gangstalked or otherwise perturbed for some arcane but relentless benefit for the sickos. Just another morning in fucking living hell.
1145h
I did the gangstalk gauntlet; the usual freakshow and then the dayglo shirted woman holding the coffee cup in front of her, (aka, Coffee Corps member) inserted herself 10' in front of me just when the dayglo orange spots on the sidewalk started, about every 5' to 10' or so, for some 60' of sidewalk. That is, until I walked past her and then had the dudes' obstacle course, all five with turned backs and presenting a circituitous path to get past as they had staggered themselves across the 8' of sidewalk, all outside the bus shelter, and seemingly waiting for the bus. I got to the teller with the blue streak in her black hair, and then some matching blue on her clothing, and got my rolls of coins and deposited the paycheck. The Hispanic or Asian gangstalking male seems to be featured more often of late, and having one arrive at the next bank teller seems to replicate my experiences of yesterday on the city bus freakshow. No big deal, and I was out of the bank fast enough to witness "camping season" parked at the yellow line at the adjacent and busiest pedestrain intersections, Fort and Douglas streets. Then another 20' camper joined it in the adjacent traffic lane to be in place when the pedestrian traffic control changed for me and and my accumulated gangstalkers to pass in front of both of them. I had a mid-block attractive blonde woman gangstalker, and then the freaks (Unfavored demographic group members), filed in behind her; the dayglo dressed, the arm flinging males, the skinhead males, the vagrant males, big hats, careening walkers and a few others. Then a male blue gut (shirt) strut where I made the corner, also on Coffee Corps duty, and it was the full meal deal; freakshow a la carte. And while waiting at last pedestrian crossing on my way back, another MIB holding coffee cup in hand (again), who arrived soundlessly behind me, an increasing trait these days. For one of the few times in three years I didn't have a Monday shit (yesterday), so that might explain why the assholes were so heavy on the brown coffee packing this morning. One never quite knows for sure as they are working so many simultaneous themes. I wonder if their gangtalkers are "shit coordinated", as in having bowel movements coordinated with mine? And too, maybe their food intake.
And part of the fuckery is to make sure that I am extra reactive, as in mind-controlled "response" to the freaks, especially male skinheads of late. They are working this theme assiduously of late; not only the shiny pate style, but also moderated with 1/4" buzzcut to give the same head shape a softer reflection and coarser reflection lines. I had a three times reprising male skinhead last night when walking back and in the grocery store; as a lead-ahead gangstalker, who then "happens" to meet his vagrant pals in a cluster, and chats to them while I pass by on W. bound directions, and then again in the grocery store, "happening" to pass me by this time on a S. bound direction. The orthogonality of the gangstalking is very important to the sickos, and in the most obvious scenarios the fuckers will circle me if they can. Or else, circle one of their own, such as the bizarre driving stunt of three months ago when one of them circled the other standing in one place in a parking lot with vehicle with an open door at least three times when I was waiting for someone to arrive. This was some 70' away and opposite the apartment building, and was one of the more spectacular pieces of orchestrated public idiocy I have seen to date. They arrived at the parking lot like they were buddies, and one gets in the vehicle and the other doesn't, and stands there for the other to circle him with the vehicle.
1625h
Another cock-up with the local TI who I am not sure about. I was to video her taking measurements on her EMF instruments but that plan got changed on me as she was obsessed over getting the images from her IR camera onto a TV and then to videotape. After an hour's tumult there was no cable to port from the IR detection scope to the video recorder. Then some chocolate covered cookies she insisted on before I departed, and lo, if there wasn't yet another heavy gangstalker show, many of them in mid-brown colors, not just the tentative light brown. The latter was the subject of much gangstalking when I had tea with milk in it, which I would of never had on my own, and consequent gangstalking by sickos when I departed. The entire deal seems to be a big gangstalker show after I exit the place.
1645h
More pictures from this afternoon's meter readings below. All taken today, 06-16-2009, readings are in milliWatts per m**2. The normal background level should be 7.0, and here we have readings over an order of magnitude higher. Readings of 1996 is close to the maximum on the meter, 2,000, and then the meter seems to get controlled within 20 seconds of so to a normal background level. Something is terribly strange about such high readings, even if supposedly momentary, which I don't think they are. Readings of 1,996 831, 119 are highly anomalous in my expectations, though if someone knows something I don't, let me know. The latter two pictures show the two differing kinds of aerials/sensors that can be mounted on the power density flux meter; the glass and LED tipped (strange too) gigahertz aerial to 2Ghz, and the "tree" aerial which measures Mhz frequencies. The extra arm on the Ghz aerial has a variable slider which can be used to sample specific frequencies.
2100h
More recollections from the bank visit this morning. The teller had black hair with a 2" blue streak in it, and bare arms with at least a 100 slash marks on them, healed 1 to 3" healed scars that were parallel, all the way up her forearm to past her elbow. If that wasn't freaky enough, there was a sudden maser/plasma event in front of her that was placed over her scars which acted like anchoring points (lines actually) for the striated maser/plasma beams that were parallel. That is the best I can describe it, as it only lasted a few seconds or so, but it seemed that the astonishing parallel scar lines on both arms were for the purposes of matching to a maser/plasma pattern (striated and parallel) that was expanded beyond her arms to 12" either side of them, covering her front. The blue hair streak was a little odd, but I really didn't think anything of it until I get back to my place and a same blue plasma beam "arrived" in front of my door as I was putting the key in the lock.
Two guitar stalker dudes in the last partial block before I got back to my place. They were seemingly indendent, but there were at least two yesterday in differing gangstalk scenarios, bus and later a vagrant act with a grocery cart. I wonder why all these troubadors are erupting around me? And I see some are now slinging electric guitars in cases instead of acoustic guitars. I wonder why.
Some minor bullshit at the cleaning job tonight; I used the quieter vacuum cleaner to clean some 20' away from the nearest customer and then only for some 20 seconds or so, before shutting it down. The Sales manager came out to say that there was customers everywhere so could I refrain from using it. I complied, as I have been vigilant in the past about how close I should be if vacuuming. Anyhow, the boss man later asks me to dry mop the hallway and I ask him where to sweep it too, as the vacuum cleaner is needed to suck it all up after the moppings have been concentrated in one location. I duly comply, and run the vacuum cleaner for all of 10 seconds to get rid of the moppings and a Salesman is all over me. So, anyhow, it wasn't a big angst issue, but I have to wonder why the boss man set me up to violate the Sales manager's request, which I had told him about. I suspect I will hear more about it tomorrow and the start time for the job might be delayed by 30 minutes, very possibly to catch the sun directly in my face in the W. when I finish up. The perps make no end of this scenario, often placing their Unfavored gangstalkers to be highly backlit so I only make out the merest of features. And perhaps it will facilitate me to do a day job somewhere. We shall see.
The other odd thing going on at the part time cleaning job is that the boss man has long contended it is a 1.5 hour job, and that he resents that the Sales manager wants to only pay for a 1.0 hour job (x2, for 2.0 manhours). But of late, the boss man has been coming for only 45 minutes, which is most strange as why would he purposely work shorter hours if he is attempting the manager he needs to work for longer? Just another oddity along the way, and I suspect it has more to do with the perp's agenda and who they want to gangstalk me with, for how long, where and the rest of the myriad of variables they maintain on my behalf.
I did have one of the staff on me for at least 5x tonight, gangstalking or otherwise preceding me to my next intended location. It is fucking bizarre to have all these assholes knowing where one is going next. Then this bullshit played out again with a gangstalker dude arriving in a vehicle ahead of me by 15' and then leading me into the LD store. I split and looked for other items, and when I went to the Rx counter he was there. He gets his Rx in a minute or so, and then departs for the last time. I cannot get over how many gangstalkers are covering me for sometimes 100's of feet on-street distance and then keep showing up at my destination. It would seem the sickos are looking for some outside to inside (or vice versa) gangstalker continuity. Much like the boss man is batting .950 for "showing up" at the same grocery store after the cleaning job as I am.
2145h
Here is a gimme that tells me what the perps are working on, or perhaps have even finished up; If The Shoe Flits, Duck: Real-life Example Of Humans' Dual Vision System. Or more correctly, Threat Assessment is separate from one's vision system. I knew that some time ago as the perps keep working on feigning threat assessment by having their thuggy weirds coming toward me and then turning back for some bizarre reason. Almost all of them aren't looking at me when doing this, but looking past me at absolutely nothing. I predict they will start on the threatening looks before long. A quote from the article;
"There is no way the brain can possibly process and analyze everything we are exposed to. We have to select what is important. In the real world you are on your own and what you pay attention to is part of survival. This experiment shows that threatening stimuli grab your attention, even those we can't consciously identify. That this is more accurate than our conscious perception is pretty amazing."
Well duh; after being hounded for over seven years by beserk assholes with an amoury that is out of Star Wars, one gets very threat sensitive. And if there are the 50 year old putative childhood traumatizations that the assholes couldn't erase entirely until the past year, then the fuckers are dutybound to put on these feigned threats and jerkarounds until they have figured out how deep they carved the traumatizations. Just leave me the fuck alone and fill up the bank account. Fucking now is long overdue.
Did I post this link earlier and get mindfucked out of my normal recollections? I might have as there has been other such events this week, but here is the link (again), and is by a TI whoe is very much fucking fed up, like all of us. Electronic Harassment is a Hate Crime. It is worse than that; it is depraved invasion down to one's thoughts, and autonomic body processes for nonconsensual gain. They called this concentration camp once upon a time, but even then, they didn't go that far, or at least overtly. It is my sneaking suspicion that past (and current) wars are nothing but a wide-scale perp nonconsensual experimentation show, obviously in more violent form, and often life terminating. And here we get all this alien talk (nonsense, IMHO) about how humans are so violent and they need to be dociled to be cooperative on a permanent basis. And who might of fomented these conflicts for ulterior motives in the first place? That was my little conspiracy rant for the month, and I don't usually go there, but every so often I am somehow compelled to do so.
2230h
Another perp "dropping"; tunable colors by magnetic interaction. Like so what; all day I deal with an imposed perversion of the entire physicality of my existence, usually with malevolent intent and adverse outcome, and I am supposed to find such "nano-putzing" interesting?
2240h
More ponderings of the earlier visit to the TI and the cross purposes confusion as to what was to be accomplished and then finding out it couldn't be done in any event as a vital porting cable was lost. Is she a perp's cooperating TI, or is she a total quisling, or is she a controlled plant? I don't know, but offering me two tone brown/chocolate cookies before I departed smacks of deliberate perp arrangement. I thought I had this one done with, as in having no more contact, but then she bought all those interesting instruments and the EMF detection they offered that you have seen in today's pictures, and from last week. Enough rambling about cookies and the rest of it, maybe I should call it off for good.
This one is done, and onto whatever fuckover games and stunts that are scripted. And as I typed that, a total tab/site change was imposed by other means than me, or any keystroke sabotage.
The noise barrage started early this morning, before getting up at 0630h. Once up, I looked out for road traffic, and for the most part there was none. Not even the trucks and buses that made up for the apparent noise sources. The sickos had me especially cranked up about it, and then kept up the annoyances while making and eating breakfast. The usual stunts; faked noise of no ostensible cause, pulling the peanut butter off the knife, imposed finger fumbling, pulling items from my grasp, sending me to the wrong drawer or item, flicking water from no apparent source and the like. Only forty rage-ifications worth before heading to the bathroom for the shower, shave and dental hygiene routine, whereupon another twenty rage-fications were inflicted. The most gratuitous was whacking me in the dick with no apparent source. Typically, towel drying is used as an excuse to whack me, but I am now allowed to habitually control the loose end of the towel in daily anticipation of this insane stunt, and today was the same; the towel wasn't even applied in that particular region, wasn't even in motion, and then today, some unseen force field whacked me in the dick. Just like the towel games of years back. And the new razor blade today was allowed to cut cleanly, not always the case. But given the amount of perp interest in shaving every day, and the increasing abuse each day while this activity progresses, I was not surprised to see some 15 or so bleeding "cuts" on my torso, part of the shaving regimen. These are inflicted lesions, usually ovoid in shape, and erupt a few minutes after shaving and without any apparent source. They are not shaving cuts, as no pain or sensation occured when the razor was passing over, and are not the shape of a razor nick. And, it is nearly impossible to cut oneself with a modern day safety razor, and I am doing nothing odd to cause it to "happen". I suspect there are a few aims involved in this 5x weekly bloodletting; bringing various different blood sources to the skin surface; deep red unoxygenated blood and bright red blood side by side from the inflicted surficial lesions just doesn't compute. The second objective is probably the study of the trace absorption of the stypic pencil content, (anhydrous aluminum sulfate), how I staunch the blood lesions each time. And it has been noted in past blog postings that the sickos can prevent the stypic pencil from acting if they want, say, a 20 minute bloodletting to continue unabated, save applying pressure to the wound. (I have had spontaneous late evening time blood surges from a pore in my nose (no shaving association), whereby the blood is arranged to be exactly in my peripherial vision, and a stypic pencil will not work for some reason, only consistently applied pressure after some 20 minutes). Anyhow, perhaps this is all a warm up before I walk the gangstalker gauntlet into downtown, a whole two blocks, and deposit my paycheck as well as get more quarters for the laundry machine. Regular readers will know that financial transactions of any kind, including loading said quarters in the laundry machines, will be noisestalked, gangstalked or otherwise perturbed for some arcane but relentless benefit for the sickos. Just another morning in fucking living hell.
1145h
I did the gangstalk gauntlet; the usual freakshow and then the dayglo shirted woman holding the coffee cup in front of her, (aka, Coffee Corps member) inserted herself 10' in front of me just when the dayglo orange spots on the sidewalk started, about every 5' to 10' or so, for some 60' of sidewalk. That is, until I walked past her and then had the dudes' obstacle course, all five with turned backs and presenting a circituitous path to get past as they had staggered themselves across the 8' of sidewalk, all outside the bus shelter, and seemingly waiting for the bus. I got to the teller with the blue streak in her black hair, and then some matching blue on her clothing, and got my rolls of coins and deposited the paycheck. The Hispanic or Asian gangstalking male seems to be featured more often of late, and having one arrive at the next bank teller seems to replicate my experiences of yesterday on the city bus freakshow. No big deal, and I was out of the bank fast enough to witness "camping season" parked at the yellow line at the adjacent and busiest pedestrain intersections, Fort and Douglas streets. Then another 20' camper joined it in the adjacent traffic lane to be in place when the pedestrian traffic control changed for me and and my accumulated gangstalkers to pass in front of both of them. I had a mid-block attractive blonde woman gangstalker, and then the freaks (Unfavored demographic group members), filed in behind her; the dayglo dressed, the arm flinging males, the skinhead males, the vagrant males, big hats, careening walkers and a few others. Then a male blue gut (shirt) strut where I made the corner, also on Coffee Corps duty, and it was the full meal deal; freakshow a la carte. And while waiting at last pedestrian crossing on my way back, another MIB holding coffee cup in hand (again), who arrived soundlessly behind me, an increasing trait these days. For one of the few times in three years I didn't have a Monday shit (yesterday), so that might explain why the assholes were so heavy on the brown coffee packing this morning. One never quite knows for sure as they are working so many simultaneous themes. I wonder if their gangtalkers are "shit coordinated", as in having bowel movements coordinated with mine? And too, maybe their food intake.
And part of the fuckery is to make sure that I am extra reactive, as in mind-controlled "response" to the freaks, especially male skinheads of late. They are working this theme assiduously of late; not only the shiny pate style, but also moderated with 1/4" buzzcut to give the same head shape a softer reflection and coarser reflection lines. I had a three times reprising male skinhead last night when walking back and in the grocery store; as a lead-ahead gangstalker, who then "happens" to meet his vagrant pals in a cluster, and chats to them while I pass by on W. bound directions, and then again in the grocery store, "happening" to pass me by this time on a S. bound direction. The orthogonality of the gangstalking is very important to the sickos, and in the most obvious scenarios the fuckers will circle me if they can. Or else, circle one of their own, such as the bizarre driving stunt of three months ago when one of them circled the other standing in one place in a parking lot with vehicle with an open door at least three times when I was waiting for someone to arrive. This was some 70' away and opposite the apartment building, and was one of the more spectacular pieces of orchestrated public idiocy I have seen to date. They arrived at the parking lot like they were buddies, and one gets in the vehicle and the other doesn't, and stands there for the other to circle him with the vehicle.
1625h
Another cock-up with the local TI who I am not sure about. I was to video her taking measurements on her EMF instruments but that plan got changed on me as she was obsessed over getting the images from her IR camera onto a TV and then to videotape. After an hour's tumult there was no cable to port from the IR detection scope to the video recorder. Then some chocolate covered cookies she insisted on before I departed, and lo, if there wasn't yet another heavy gangstalker show, many of them in mid-brown colors, not just the tentative light brown. The latter was the subject of much gangstalking when I had tea with milk in it, which I would of never had on my own, and consequent gangstalking by sickos when I departed. The entire deal seems to be a big gangstalker show after I exit the place.
1645h
More pictures from this afternoon's meter readings below. All taken today, 06-16-2009, readings are in milliWatts per m**2. The normal background level should be 7.0, and here we have readings over an order of magnitude higher. Readings of 1996 is close to the maximum on the meter, 2,000, and then the meter seems to get controlled within 20 seconds of so to a normal background level. Something is terribly strange about such high readings, even if supposedly momentary, which I don't think they are. Readings of 1,996 831, 119 are highly anomalous in my expectations, though if someone knows something I don't, let me know. The latter two pictures show the two differing kinds of aerials/sensors that can be mounted on the power density flux meter; the glass and LED tipped (strange too) gigahertz aerial to 2Ghz, and the "tree" aerial which measures Mhz frequencies. The extra arm on the Ghz aerial has a variable slider which can be used to sample specific frequencies.
2100h
More recollections from the bank visit this morning. The teller had black hair with a 2" blue streak in it, and bare arms with at least a 100 slash marks on them, healed 1 to 3" healed scars that were parallel, all the way up her forearm to past her elbow. If that wasn't freaky enough, there was a sudden maser/plasma event in front of her that was placed over her scars which acted like anchoring points (lines actually) for the striated maser/plasma beams that were parallel. That is the best I can describe it, as it only lasted a few seconds or so, but it seemed that the astonishing parallel scar lines on both arms were for the purposes of matching to a maser/plasma pattern (striated and parallel) that was expanded beyond her arms to 12" either side of them, covering her front. The blue hair streak was a little odd, but I really didn't think anything of it until I get back to my place and a same blue plasma beam "arrived" in front of my door as I was putting the key in the lock.
Two guitar stalker dudes in the last partial block before I got back to my place. They were seemingly indendent, but there were at least two yesterday in differing gangstalk scenarios, bus and later a vagrant act with a grocery cart. I wonder why all these troubadors are erupting around me? And I see some are now slinging electric guitars in cases instead of acoustic guitars. I wonder why.
Some minor bullshit at the cleaning job tonight; I used the quieter vacuum cleaner to clean some 20' away from the nearest customer and then only for some 20 seconds or so, before shutting it down. The Sales manager came out to say that there was customers everywhere so could I refrain from using it. I complied, as I have been vigilant in the past about how close I should be if vacuuming. Anyhow, the boss man later asks me to dry mop the hallway and I ask him where to sweep it too, as the vacuum cleaner is needed to suck it all up after the moppings have been concentrated in one location. I duly comply, and run the vacuum cleaner for all of 10 seconds to get rid of the moppings and a Salesman is all over me. So, anyhow, it wasn't a big angst issue, but I have to wonder why the boss man set me up to violate the Sales manager's request, which I had told him about. I suspect I will hear more about it tomorrow and the start time for the job might be delayed by 30 minutes, very possibly to catch the sun directly in my face in the W. when I finish up. The perps make no end of this scenario, often placing their Unfavored gangstalkers to be highly backlit so I only make out the merest of features. And perhaps it will facilitate me to do a day job somewhere. We shall see.
The other odd thing going on at the part time cleaning job is that the boss man has long contended it is a 1.5 hour job, and that he resents that the Sales manager wants to only pay for a 1.0 hour job (x2, for 2.0 manhours). But of late, the boss man has been coming for only 45 minutes, which is most strange as why would he purposely work shorter hours if he is attempting the manager he needs to work for longer? Just another oddity along the way, and I suspect it has more to do with the perp's agenda and who they want to gangstalk me with, for how long, where and the rest of the myriad of variables they maintain on my behalf.
I did have one of the staff on me for at least 5x tonight, gangstalking or otherwise preceding me to my next intended location. It is fucking bizarre to have all these assholes knowing where one is going next. Then this bullshit played out again with a gangstalker dude arriving in a vehicle ahead of me by 15' and then leading me into the LD store. I split and looked for other items, and when I went to the Rx counter he was there. He gets his Rx in a minute or so, and then departs for the last time. I cannot get over how many gangstalkers are covering me for sometimes 100's of feet on-street distance and then keep showing up at my destination. It would seem the sickos are looking for some outside to inside (or vice versa) gangstalker continuity. Much like the boss man is batting .950 for "showing up" at the same grocery store after the cleaning job as I am.
2145h
Here is a gimme that tells me what the perps are working on, or perhaps have even finished up; If The Shoe Flits, Duck: Real-life Example Of Humans' Dual Vision System. Or more correctly, Threat Assessment is separate from one's vision system. I knew that some time ago as the perps keep working on feigning threat assessment by having their thuggy weirds coming toward me and then turning back for some bizarre reason. Almost all of them aren't looking at me when doing this, but looking past me at absolutely nothing. I predict they will start on the threatening looks before long. A quote from the article;
"There is no way the brain can possibly process and analyze everything we are exposed to. We have to select what is important. In the real world you are on your own and what you pay attention to is part of survival. This experiment shows that threatening stimuli grab your attention, even those we can't consciously identify. That this is more accurate than our conscious perception is pretty amazing."
Well duh; after being hounded for over seven years by beserk assholes with an amoury that is out of Star Wars, one gets very threat sensitive. And if there are the 50 year old putative childhood traumatizations that the assholes couldn't erase entirely until the past year, then the fuckers are dutybound to put on these feigned threats and jerkarounds until they have figured out how deep they carved the traumatizations. Just leave me the fuck alone and fill up the bank account. Fucking now is long overdue.
Did I post this link earlier and get mindfucked out of my normal recollections? I might have as there has been other such events this week, but here is the link (again), and is by a TI whoe is very much fucking fed up, like all of us. Electronic Harassment is a Hate Crime. It is worse than that; it is depraved invasion down to one's thoughts, and autonomic body processes for nonconsensual gain. They called this concentration camp once upon a time, but even then, they didn't go that far, or at least overtly. It is my sneaking suspicion that past (and current) wars are nothing but a wide-scale perp nonconsensual experimentation show, obviously in more violent form, and often life terminating. And here we get all this alien talk (nonsense, IMHO) about how humans are so violent and they need to be dociled to be cooperative on a permanent basis. And who might of fomented these conflicts for ulterior motives in the first place? That was my little conspiracy rant for the month, and I don't usually go there, but every so often I am somehow compelled to do so.
2230h
Another perp "dropping"; tunable colors by magnetic interaction. Like so what; all day I deal with an imposed perversion of the entire physicality of my existence, usually with malevolent intent and adverse outcome, and I am supposed to find such "nano-putzing" interesting?
2240h
More ponderings of the earlier visit to the TI and the cross purposes confusion as to what was to be accomplished and then finding out it couldn't be done in any event as a vital porting cable was lost. Is she a perp's cooperating TI, or is she a total quisling, or is she a controlled plant? I don't know, but offering me two tone brown/chocolate cookies before I departed smacks of deliberate perp arrangement. I thought I had this one done with, as in having no more contact, but then she bought all those interesting instruments and the EMF detection they offered that you have seen in today's pictures, and from last week. Enough rambling about cookies and the rest of it, maybe I should call it off for good.
This one is done, and onto whatever fuckover games and stunts that are scripted. And as I typed that, a total tab/site change was imposed by other means than me, or any keystroke sabotage.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Back to Jackhammering + minor updates, 01-28-2009
1400h
A heavy noisescape today, the jackhammering noise has erupted for most of the day so far, and has been progressively getting louder over the past hour. Too loud to be blocked by earmuffs. As always, it is a moment to ponder what other events are worthy of this added attention/noise. Could it be the long running interest in laundry the perps have? Hard to know for sure, but it was a sheets laundering day, and the assholes continue their sustained interest in this activity. No doubt bedsheets have plenty of bearing on one's bioenergetic signature, and as I haven't slept in the newly laundered sheets yet, this noise might be a "warm up", aka, prepatory barrage. See a Summary of Perp Obsessions for a list of known fixations they have.
Other possible perp excitement factors might be that I cut my fingernails this morning, trimmed my eybrows with a shaving razor (the stylist of two weeks ago had "forgotten"), and began a new supply of the regular medications today, the assholes flipping one capsule out of my hand and onto the edge of the enamelled sink. Funny how some things can roll and flip long distances and at other times they just stop where they fall. There is nothing conventional in the behavior of gravity in my circumstances I learned when they first struck in 2002.
And they have arranged for me to miss eating chocolate this afternoon, so perhaps the absence of this brown colored food has also heightened the perp's experimentation angst. And it seems to be another shut-in day until 1715h when I head off to the car dealership to do my one hour cleaning job. I suppose that the perps know I have never been able to afford a new vehicle, and this is their way of getting me close to this item, and the rotational color games that go with the exercise. Vehicles are a huge part of the gangstalking, and the perps still devote much gangstalk time to having the vehicles parked and the driver and other passengers loitering with the doors and trunk open. And I suppose that might be the reason they place new interior door panels in my proximity at the car dealership, isolating them from the vehicle entirely. Since 2006 they have had me with no vehicle, ensuring there are no monies to even consider it.
Other action today was a notice from the landlord to up the rent by $24/mo. in three months, which might be the impetus to move once again to a well prepped location, one where they have replaced all the pipes and other supplies and connections. (They put in a new 400' connecting twinned sewerline after I moved in here, and still connect to that pipe via manholes and associated working staff and equipment). The next housing situation would be a "disability" situation, and I might come out of it with substantial savings in rent. Though, I am sure they have other spending plans for me to keep me using up my line of credit.
1430h
The jackhammer noise finally abated after a few attempts to block it out with earmuffs and then had it go louder so it could get through again. Now the voice noise; street shouters, hallway talkers, and the seagulls mewing and squealing. And I see that the perps also "force grew" my beard; I shaved this morning and I have stubble as I type this, something that doesn't ordinarily occur until over 24 hours later. Again, this is not new, and the perps have this ability to grow hair wherever, in various colors and at a prescribed rate.
2030h
Another confluence/swarm of males around me, this time at the cleaning job. I was drawn back to where my coat was hanging up to let the boss man in with his scooter, and lo, there was something to talk about, and he stood in front of my coat, and when the conversation ended he stayed put while I attempted to get past him with a vehicle parked behind us. There were two other individuals circulating nearby, and were arranged to be around me as I headed to go back to fill the mop bucket. And lo if the blonde saleswoman appears at the place I had been standing, wallking through my tracks. And if you are wondering what this is about, the details are in the posting, the Favored and Unfavored.
And after work, also a prime gangstalking time, I stopped at the supermarket to get some chocolate. And lo, if they didn't have two male gangstalkers arranged there, one on the stocking/stalking duty with a stack of flattened (brown colored) cardboard boxes, the lingua franca of reference color objects after envelopes in yellow or white.
Then they had me covered elsewhere in the store, and when I got outside they had a pair of drunken (seeming) native Indians outside at the closest side of the driveway walking route, and a pair of blonde women doing the "street debate" stunt of stopping and talking at the other side of the driveway. So I was made to walk between these two clusters, one Unfavored, and the other Favored respectively in the dimmed down lighting conditions. And one native Indian had a guitar with him, and regular readers will know that I get "guitar stalking" often, at least twice per week.
2305h
A listen to Karla Anderson tonight, easily a repeat play for the kind of music I like (usually not rock, but melodic). This has distracted me tonight, and perhaps that is a good thing when being fucked with when dotting "i"s and crossing "t"s, turning on light switches and everything else that normals are allowed to do without hindrance.
A heavy noisescape today, the jackhammering noise has erupted for most of the day so far, and has been progressively getting louder over the past hour. Too loud to be blocked by earmuffs. As always, it is a moment to ponder what other events are worthy of this added attention/noise. Could it be the long running interest in laundry the perps have? Hard to know for sure, but it was a sheets laundering day, and the assholes continue their sustained interest in this activity. No doubt bedsheets have plenty of bearing on one's bioenergetic signature, and as I haven't slept in the newly laundered sheets yet, this noise might be a "warm up", aka, prepatory barrage. See a Summary of Perp Obsessions for a list of known fixations they have.
Other possible perp excitement factors might be that I cut my fingernails this morning, trimmed my eybrows with a shaving razor (the stylist of two weeks ago had "forgotten"), and began a new supply of the regular medications today, the assholes flipping one capsule out of my hand and onto the edge of the enamelled sink. Funny how some things can roll and flip long distances and at other times they just stop where they fall. There is nothing conventional in the behavior of gravity in my circumstances I learned when they first struck in 2002.
And they have arranged for me to miss eating chocolate this afternoon, so perhaps the absence of this brown colored food has also heightened the perp's experimentation angst. And it seems to be another shut-in day until 1715h when I head off to the car dealership to do my one hour cleaning job. I suppose that the perps know I have never been able to afford a new vehicle, and this is their way of getting me close to this item, and the rotational color games that go with the exercise. Vehicles are a huge part of the gangstalking, and the perps still devote much gangstalk time to having the vehicles parked and the driver and other passengers loitering with the doors and trunk open. And I suppose that might be the reason they place new interior door panels in my proximity at the car dealership, isolating them from the vehicle entirely. Since 2006 they have had me with no vehicle, ensuring there are no monies to even consider it.
Other action today was a notice from the landlord to up the rent by $24/mo. in three months, which might be the impetus to move once again to a well prepped location, one where they have replaced all the pipes and other supplies and connections. (They put in a new 400' connecting twinned sewerline after I moved in here, and still connect to that pipe via manholes and associated working staff and equipment). The next housing situation would be a "disability" situation, and I might come out of it with substantial savings in rent. Though, I am sure they have other spending plans for me to keep me using up my line of credit.
1430h
The jackhammer noise finally abated after a few attempts to block it out with earmuffs and then had it go louder so it could get through again. Now the voice noise; street shouters, hallway talkers, and the seagulls mewing and squealing. And I see that the perps also "force grew" my beard; I shaved this morning and I have stubble as I type this, something that doesn't ordinarily occur until over 24 hours later. Again, this is not new, and the perps have this ability to grow hair wherever, in various colors and at a prescribed rate.
2030h
Another confluence/swarm of males around me, this time at the cleaning job. I was drawn back to where my coat was hanging up to let the boss man in with his scooter, and lo, there was something to talk about, and he stood in front of my coat, and when the conversation ended he stayed put while I attempted to get past him with a vehicle parked behind us. There were two other individuals circulating nearby, and were arranged to be around me as I headed to go back to fill the mop bucket. And lo if the blonde saleswoman appears at the place I had been standing, wallking through my tracks. And if you are wondering what this is about, the details are in the posting, the Favored and Unfavored.
And after work, also a prime gangstalking time, I stopped at the supermarket to get some chocolate. And lo, if they didn't have two male gangstalkers arranged there, one on the stocking/stalking duty with a stack of flattened (brown colored) cardboard boxes, the lingua franca of reference color objects after envelopes in yellow or white.
Then they had me covered elsewhere in the store, and when I got outside they had a pair of drunken (seeming) native Indians outside at the closest side of the driveway walking route, and a pair of blonde women doing the "street debate" stunt of stopping and talking at the other side of the driveway. So I was made to walk between these two clusters, one Unfavored, and the other Favored respectively in the dimmed down lighting conditions. And one native Indian had a guitar with him, and regular readers will know that I get "guitar stalking" often, at least twice per week.
2305h
A listen to Karla Anderson tonight, easily a repeat play for the kind of music I like (usually not rock, but melodic). This has distracted me tonight, and perhaps that is a good thing when being fucked with when dotting "i"s and crossing "t"s, turning on light switches and everything else that normals are allowed to do without hindrance.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
New LCD Panel
1530h
The big excitement for the perps was the arrival and fraught set up of my new 22" LCD panel. As I type this, the snow shovel banging is continuing, and before that it was a supposed steer skid tractor to move the snow about. The latter seemed like a noise event, as I never saw it working and looked a number of times. The sirens also came on to join in, at least two cascades. Most of the elevated noise levels were the "usual" kind; overhead pounding that tracked me from desk to kitchen when having tea and chocolate after the install, then heavy duty vehicles were idling outside, then 15 seagull were careening about in flight with a full noise repetoire, a file of 10 or so gangstalkers was on the sidewalk on the snow with one of them walking by the group, thumpy "neighbor" stereo noise also joined the fray, outside male voices and a few others that cannot be recalled.
As usual, it was a nonstop hassle to put this new monitor together; cables became tight, the instructions were terrible and didn't follow the Windows standard, and the entire process of keeping me hyperalert while another jerkaround comes along is just too tempting for the assholes to pass up. That is the way it goes with the Fuckwits; everything new has to be a hassle, and even routines get totally jerked with. And this new LCD monitor is huge compared to a 15" predecessor, and intensely bright as well, with the native menu commands seeming to be mysteriously disfunctional. Bigger than Christmas it would seem, this new monitor, and offering all manner of stunt opportunities by way of stretching the fonts, adding in extra whitespace, then coloring the whitespace a light blue, and last, but not least, a big oversized 1/2" long blue on/off switch that is brightly lighted all the time. With a blue glow to the PC switch, and now this one on the LCD panel, they seem to be adding more bright colors into my peripherial vision as constant references. The good thing is no more horizontal scrolling; this has become a huge pain in the ass, and many of the regular websites had increased their text display width to create this hassle of late. I will have to see how all this goes, and I am sure acquiring new progressive lens eyeglasses about two weeks ago also fits some kind of related agenda with respect to this monitor display, associated text display and the rest of it. And too, with no digital display, that might be the next upgrade some day, hopefully when I can afford it this time. An acquisitional gloat, in part, all the above I am ashamed to say as some TI's don't have a regular place to call home, never mind the bling to fill it. Such is Christmas in TI Land; it is a indulgence for the complicit and the ignorant compared to these circumstances of constant duress.
Another siren cascade as I am about to blog off for now, through the earmuffs even.
2240h
More games and stunts tonight at my one hour per day job; the paper towel rolls somehow tumbled down on me and slightly sprained my right thumb, bringing back an injury they arranged in 1964 by way of brotherly rambunciousness. Only a slight sprain tonight, and matches my right small toe sprain that came from nowhere yesterday. The boss man finally let me in on the intensity of the work he was expecting, rather than rattling on as to how the job would only take 45 minutes when it took 75 minutes. This is a car dealership and it affords all the props the perps have been using for the last six years, specifically vehicular gangstalking. I have long noted the one component of the vehicular gangstalkers as the "Ladder Patrol" as they are often packing an excess of ladders on vehicles that are not even of a commercial nature, and often in sequential configurations that also involve varying ladder stringer compositions and colors. There are wood ladders, aluminum, non conductive fiberglass in yellow and an orange-red color. And for the last three days in the Service shop there has been a deep metallic red colored Mazda Tribute, same as a Ford Escape (parent's have this vehicle), with a pair of yellow fiberglass stringered ladders on it. The first night they even put one ladder exactly over the yellow painted concrete which denotes a caution area for a steeper slope in the concrete floor. Mighty accurate placement to say the least, and for the last two work evenings plus an off-day in between, both ladders have been on the roof rack, one cantilivered off the rear of the Tribute by 6'. It would seem to be another (oddly) extended "service job" on a common gangstalk vehicle color and configuration that just doesn't match the expectable (mine at least) reality of a busy downtown car dealership. There will be more yellow fiberglass stringered ladders parking outside my apartment soon, if the past is prologue.
All the automotive black body panel parts are ususally wrapped in brown paper or cardboard and many are rotated around in the parts section in differing orthogonal orientations along with the strange but persistent presence of two grocery shopping carts, the faux vagrant on-sidewalk "vehicle" of choice to deliver black plastic bags full of recycling returns, pop cans, plastic bottles etc. Regular readers will know that the perps are consumed with presenting brown colors and that they seem to view corrugated cardboard as their greatest leverage in impressing my (seeming) subconcious with the neutrality of this particular brown hue. A primer on the perp's brown color fixation is here. And yes, I did extra lugging of cardboard boxes today at work, and not forgetting that this very LCD panel is fresh from being packed in a brown cardboard box with white styrofoam inserts. An all-out brown cardboard show that was later eclipsed by the blondes.
They put on at least a dozen blonde women on my 10 minute walk back from the car dealership; through the window of a restuarant, a pair on the street doing seeming shopping, one just "hanging around" in the same dark and unpopulated corner as one last week in the same circumstances with her young son, both most strange that any woman would put themselves in this situation, putzing around in the dark on the periphery of downtown. And a final blonde driving from a parking lot to cross my path some 8' in front of me. Then an Asian show at my apartment; two coming out when I was entering, and then another showed up on my tail on his cell phone, and takes the adjacent elevator at nearly the same time I was taking one. The elevator control logic has been changed of late to have both open on the main floor when only one would open for all passengers. Thankfully, he wasn't exiting when I got to my floor, though who knows what is going on the instant I exit the situation. And for those irregular readers, brown skin tones are as much as part of the "brown stalking" as cardboard boxes; see the above linked posting to the right to get up to speed on this if you wish. (The role of blondes as gangstalkers, that is, attractive female blondes even in dimly lit situations and/or fleeting glances, seems to be as "starter stalkers", or as I usually refer to them as members of the few Favored demographic groups which often precede Unfavored groups, the latter partially characterized by brown skin tones). I don't mean to incite any kind of racial friction, but only relate this as a matter of observation that may have some basis as long ago traumatizations that remain in my subconcious, the reason these varying "brown elicitations" are arranged and/or paraded in my proximity. (See the lastmost link for a possible perp rationale).
Time to call this one done for now, and wonder what else the Fuckwits brought me for Christmas, that illusion/delusion that has long been dispensed with as most TI's can attest.
The big excitement for the perps was the arrival and fraught set up of my new 22" LCD panel. As I type this, the snow shovel banging is continuing, and before that it was a supposed steer skid tractor to move the snow about. The latter seemed like a noise event, as I never saw it working and looked a number of times. The sirens also came on to join in, at least two cascades. Most of the elevated noise levels were the "usual" kind; overhead pounding that tracked me from desk to kitchen when having tea and chocolate after the install, then heavy duty vehicles were idling outside, then 15 seagull were careening about in flight with a full noise repetoire, a file of 10 or so gangstalkers was on the sidewalk on the snow with one of them walking by the group, thumpy "neighbor" stereo noise also joined the fray, outside male voices and a few others that cannot be recalled.
As usual, it was a nonstop hassle to put this new monitor together; cables became tight, the instructions were terrible and didn't follow the Windows standard, and the entire process of keeping me hyperalert while another jerkaround comes along is just too tempting for the assholes to pass up. That is the way it goes with the Fuckwits; everything new has to be a hassle, and even routines get totally jerked with. And this new LCD monitor is huge compared to a 15" predecessor, and intensely bright as well, with the native menu commands seeming to be mysteriously disfunctional. Bigger than Christmas it would seem, this new monitor, and offering all manner of stunt opportunities by way of stretching the fonts, adding in extra whitespace, then coloring the whitespace a light blue, and last, but not least, a big oversized 1/2" long blue on/off switch that is brightly lighted all the time. With a blue glow to the PC switch, and now this one on the LCD panel, they seem to be adding more bright colors into my peripherial vision as constant references. The good thing is no more horizontal scrolling; this has become a huge pain in the ass, and many of the regular websites had increased their text display width to create this hassle of late. I will have to see how all this goes, and I am sure acquiring new progressive lens eyeglasses about two weeks ago also fits some kind of related agenda with respect to this monitor display, associated text display and the rest of it. And too, with no digital display, that might be the next upgrade some day, hopefully when I can afford it this time. An acquisitional gloat, in part, all the above I am ashamed to say as some TI's don't have a regular place to call home, never mind the bling to fill it. Such is Christmas in TI Land; it is a indulgence for the complicit and the ignorant compared to these circumstances of constant duress.
Another siren cascade as I am about to blog off for now, through the earmuffs even.
2240h
More games and stunts tonight at my one hour per day job; the paper towel rolls somehow tumbled down on me and slightly sprained my right thumb, bringing back an injury they arranged in 1964 by way of brotherly rambunciousness. Only a slight sprain tonight, and matches my right small toe sprain that came from nowhere yesterday. The boss man finally let me in on the intensity of the work he was expecting, rather than rattling on as to how the job would only take 45 minutes when it took 75 minutes. This is a car dealership and it affords all the props the perps have been using for the last six years, specifically vehicular gangstalking. I have long noted the one component of the vehicular gangstalkers as the "Ladder Patrol" as they are often packing an excess of ladders on vehicles that are not even of a commercial nature, and often in sequential configurations that also involve varying ladder stringer compositions and colors. There are wood ladders, aluminum, non conductive fiberglass in yellow and an orange-red color. And for the last three days in the Service shop there has been a deep metallic red colored Mazda Tribute, same as a Ford Escape (parent's have this vehicle), with a pair of yellow fiberglass stringered ladders on it. The first night they even put one ladder exactly over the yellow painted concrete which denotes a caution area for a steeper slope in the concrete floor. Mighty accurate placement to say the least, and for the last two work evenings plus an off-day in between, both ladders have been on the roof rack, one cantilivered off the rear of the Tribute by 6'. It would seem to be another (oddly) extended "service job" on a common gangstalk vehicle color and configuration that just doesn't match the expectable (mine at least) reality of a busy downtown car dealership. There will be more yellow fiberglass stringered ladders parking outside my apartment soon, if the past is prologue.
All the automotive black body panel parts are ususally wrapped in brown paper or cardboard and many are rotated around in the parts section in differing orthogonal orientations along with the strange but persistent presence of two grocery shopping carts, the faux vagrant on-sidewalk "vehicle" of choice to deliver black plastic bags full of recycling returns, pop cans, plastic bottles etc. Regular readers will know that the perps are consumed with presenting brown colors and that they seem to view corrugated cardboard as their greatest leverage in impressing my (seeming) subconcious with the neutrality of this particular brown hue. A primer on the perp's brown color fixation is here. And yes, I did extra lugging of cardboard boxes today at work, and not forgetting that this very LCD panel is fresh from being packed in a brown cardboard box with white styrofoam inserts. An all-out brown cardboard show that was later eclipsed by the blondes.
They put on at least a dozen blonde women on my 10 minute walk back from the car dealership; through the window of a restuarant, a pair on the street doing seeming shopping, one just "hanging around" in the same dark and unpopulated corner as one last week in the same circumstances with her young son, both most strange that any woman would put themselves in this situation, putzing around in the dark on the periphery of downtown. And a final blonde driving from a parking lot to cross my path some 8' in front of me. Then an Asian show at my apartment; two coming out when I was entering, and then another showed up on my tail on his cell phone, and takes the adjacent elevator at nearly the same time I was taking one. The elevator control logic has been changed of late to have both open on the main floor when only one would open for all passengers. Thankfully, he wasn't exiting when I got to my floor, though who knows what is going on the instant I exit the situation. And for those irregular readers, brown skin tones are as much as part of the "brown stalking" as cardboard boxes; see the above linked posting to the right to get up to speed on this if you wish. (The role of blondes as gangstalkers, that is, attractive female blondes even in dimly lit situations and/or fleeting glances, seems to be as "starter stalkers", or as I usually refer to them as members of the few Favored demographic groups which often precede Unfavored groups, the latter partially characterized by brown skin tones). I don't mean to incite any kind of racial friction, but only relate this as a matter of observation that may have some basis as long ago traumatizations that remain in my subconcious, the reason these varying "brown elicitations" are arranged and/or paraded in my proximity. (See the lastmost link for a possible perp rationale).
Time to call this one done for now, and wonder what else the Fuckwits brought me for Christmas, that illusion/delusion that has long been dispensed with as most TI's can attest.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Pound Ceiling When Victim's Online Image is Changes
1045h
The title is a putative instruction I concocted that could be in the harassment procedures manual. Have a web image of two attractive women, have me mouse click on it, and then swap the image for a bald headed negro male, a three times Unfavored image (bald, negro, male). And while conducting this illegal computer intrusion, pound the ceiling at the same time. Obviously the perps are attempting to link my reaction to the imagery swap to the ongoing noise imposition, ceiling pounding (of concrete no less), being a standardized noise. Anyhow, it is a small example of the detail the perps go through in evaluating my reaction to the Favored, and then immediately thereafter, the Unfavored, details availible at the link.
I had another example of this stunt, and it was blanked out of mind.
1115h
I am getting a persistent pain in my left jaw joint region, which might be a perps continuation of the left side temple pains they laid on me yesterday. And along with that, they are also persisting in placing a fuzzy maser ball in my central vision that tracks exactly where I am reading. More fuckery from sick minds.
1130h
More painful left jaw hits; one pain burst was timed for when I was reading the word "magnetic", one of the core technologies that the perps use to apply their extra-conventional gravitic fuckery as well as localized pain and noise.
Yesterday evening, the perps hit me with some head pain for which they had me ranting about, and while doing so, they directed my attention to the picture of an attractive blonde woman who was the web author. This is a new combination of harassments, directed attention while enraged after being provoked. It never ends, the combinations and permutaions of being totally fucked with.
1645h
Back at my desk, and getting a steady stream of vehicles with loud muffler noise of the unmaintained kind. These hoarse muffler noises seem to be "in" of late, and the two cycle motorcycle noises of lesser importance, though I cannot stand either of them.
I was out at the doctor's office today, doing a 30 minute walk to get there, and had the usual 600 to 1,000 vehicles on gangstalking duty, perhaps more, as I took a different route as I had come from a social workers' office.
My prior short in-town walk to that office was gangstalked in the extreme; it was about 1250h, and the cover story would of been that these folks were on their lunch break. I had two ambulatory male oversized waddlers on the sidewalk who then "showed up" some 20 minutes later on my walk to the doctors. An obvious planting of the same operatives, as no one walks as fast I as do nowadays. As always, the surfeit of waddling males is nothing new. It was a worse freakshow at the social workers' office; one male came at me from across the office to the office door, and then returned to a seat. This strange behavior was all about getting me to see the ugliest hairdo yet; green corded hair like some kind of clown. I got another corded hair job yesterday, this one with natural colored brown hair, on "door duty", keeping the apartment door open for me when I arrived as she "happened" to be departing. I have met this same woman three times in the apartment lobby, passing by each time, and getting her ugly hairdo seen when I enter the building. This must still be a large energetic transition moment for which the perps cannot yet figure out.
For today's outing I got the four gangstalkers in the elevator again, one a child in a transparent plastic covered stroller. I have seen a number of these plastic rain covers over strollers in the past few days, and it does not make any conventional sense, as there is no threat of rain. My assumption this is an emulation of the plastic pollutants in my system, and having the child as a gangstalker and behind plastic just might help the perps in their remote assay games. Regular readers will know of the perps' obsessions over placing plastics around me and the various games that go on to flick and otherwise accelerate the movement of said plastic props in my proximity.
I got more brown color treatment when out; after making a 90 degree turn, there was a brown colored Volvo at the curb, and the brown dressed owner had just opened the door with more brown colored trim, and only 10' distant was a male brown dressed gangstalker standing still in mid sidewalk on his cell phone, typically used for creating extra electromagnetic field around in the local area. And lo, if there weren't countless brown colored soil-like dust clots on the sidewalk, "browning in" more of the immediate scene. This was a big deal I suppose, as this little scene was set up and timed to the fraction of a second.
Today's vehicular gangstalking was full of Volvos (l like them, and owned them for 20 years) and BMW 3 series, especially the wagon version. The perps even put the BMW's in clusters of two's and threes, something I hadn't seen before. And then come similarly shaped models from other vehicle manufacturers, and often these are scaled down versions, such as the Mazda three door model, the name escaping me for the time being, even if I pass a Mazda dealership often.
And my doctor is moving on he stated; no difference there for me, I was talking to a wall anyhow. He is Asian, and I considered this to be Asian male "face time", my once per month session at the behest of my mind-keepers. Interestingly, the perps are moving me up the brown (skin) scale, as the next doctor will be and East Indian; this is a repeat of their doctor visit stunts of 1997 to 1999 games when I had an obdurate East Indian woman doctor who kept blowing me off about my complaints. I always wondered why she was often looking at the ceiling each time she spoke with me, and it confirms what I have noticed about other shills; they must be getting a text script feed on the retina of their upper eye. Now, it is going to be a deeper shade of brown skin color, and a male doctor. That is likely to serve for another 18 months if the current doctor's duration is a guide. Then who knows, a deep dark skinned African doctor after that, and by then, the perps' brown fixation should be over. Lucky me, only another three years of unmitigated hell from the sickos that created these problems in the first place, and then have trashed the hell out of my existence while they attempt to figure out the pychic damage. Not my problem, and why am I being involved in it?
That stock rejoinder of the above paragraph gets routinely trotted out by way of planted thoughts, and today, I got special noisestalking while keying it in, so there must be something more that the perps want other than controlling me as to what they are scripting me to type.
I told my doctor about various financial needs, most related to the harassment; the frypan with the self-popping spot welds, the self-shredding sheets and the accelerated wear down of my last pair of runners, all perp invoked by remote means. He didn't even blink as to these incredible oddities, indicating to me this was all scripted, as the perps would choke me down if I got into unscripted revelations. The doctor was also doing his best to put his head in front of his LCD display on his PC, moving it back and forth with partial overlaps of the blue colored screen. My perp abetting mother does similar actions; "explaining a problem" with her PC, and flicking her hands in front of the CRT display in an over-obvious attempt to do the perp's bidding. The obvious incidence of hand waving and flicking behavior began when this harassment began.
I got more "blonde stalking" today; one on lead-ahead duty was tailing me for 10 minutes, counting the alternate routes we took around the same block, "showing up" again, aka reprising herself on an unlikely route by anyone's standards who knows this town. They are now appearing as the lastmost gangstalker before my apartment block it seems. After the above mentioned blonde crossed paths with me some 100' from my apartment building, a clip clopping (footwear noise) blonde woman in light brown, red shoes and red lipstick followed me into the building and into the elevator, carrying a Starbuck's coffee (brown color reference) in a grey tray, making her as a member of the Coffe Corps. She looked way overdone for this building; in her late 50's, nice clothes, and coming into a predominantly studio suite building. Anyhow, strange behavior of others in my proximity is nothing new.
1955h
The kerchunk noises are coming on; this particular back beat sound is like no other, and has followed me from Seattle in 2002, to every residence (now seven) since to the present. It is truly amazing that my "neighbors" can make the same sounds with the same coordination with other events, e.g. web page changes, an uncontrolled thought, a pain twinge, reading specific "hot" words, and so it goes. I might as well as be talking to the wall, just like the above mentioned doctor, as none of this makes sense in any scenario except persecutorial harassment in the service of nonconsensual human experimentation and no one wants to hear about it.
The left jaw pain has been coming and going all day, and it often gets invoked in similar circumstances as per above mentioned kerchunk sounds.
2030h
And here is James Henry Graf, the eloquent activist that I know of describing the same pit of hell that I am in Your Brain Is the Battleground;
More of James Henry Graf's pithy and eloquent treatise is at this link as well, Virtual America. Make that Virtual Canada as too, as I have been equally harassed in both countires. Here is a particularly resonant quote from the linked page; based on my experience, he does not exaggerate in the least;
2320h
Time to call this done; my YouTubing is getting hacked more often now. I get audio and vison desybchronization, darkened down stage shots and smeared over personages. All part of the functional decomposition of my bioenergetic being, down to everything I see, hear, think or conclude.
The title is a putative instruction I concocted that could be in the harassment procedures manual. Have a web image of two attractive women, have me mouse click on it, and then swap the image for a bald headed negro male, a three times Unfavored image (bald, negro, male). And while conducting this illegal computer intrusion, pound the ceiling at the same time. Obviously the perps are attempting to link my reaction to the imagery swap to the ongoing noise imposition, ceiling pounding (of concrete no less), being a standardized noise. Anyhow, it is a small example of the detail the perps go through in evaluating my reaction to the Favored, and then immediately thereafter, the Unfavored, details availible at the link.
I had another example of this stunt, and it was blanked out of mind.
1115h
I am getting a persistent pain in my left jaw joint region, which might be a perps continuation of the left side temple pains they laid on me yesterday. And along with that, they are also persisting in placing a fuzzy maser ball in my central vision that tracks exactly where I am reading. More fuckery from sick minds.
1130h
More painful left jaw hits; one pain burst was timed for when I was reading the word "magnetic", one of the core technologies that the perps use to apply their extra-conventional gravitic fuckery as well as localized pain and noise.
Yesterday evening, the perps hit me with some head pain for which they had me ranting about, and while doing so, they directed my attention to the picture of an attractive blonde woman who was the web author. This is a new combination of harassments, directed attention while enraged after being provoked. It never ends, the combinations and permutaions of being totally fucked with.
1645h
Back at my desk, and getting a steady stream of vehicles with loud muffler noise of the unmaintained kind. These hoarse muffler noises seem to be "in" of late, and the two cycle motorcycle noises of lesser importance, though I cannot stand either of them.
I was out at the doctor's office today, doing a 30 minute walk to get there, and had the usual 600 to 1,000 vehicles on gangstalking duty, perhaps more, as I took a different route as I had come from a social workers' office.
My prior short in-town walk to that office was gangstalked in the extreme; it was about 1250h, and the cover story would of been that these folks were on their lunch break. I had two ambulatory male oversized waddlers on the sidewalk who then "showed up" some 20 minutes later on my walk to the doctors. An obvious planting of the same operatives, as no one walks as fast I as do nowadays. As always, the surfeit of waddling males is nothing new. It was a worse freakshow at the social workers' office; one male came at me from across the office to the office door, and then returned to a seat. This strange behavior was all about getting me to see the ugliest hairdo yet; green corded hair like some kind of clown. I got another corded hair job yesterday, this one with natural colored brown hair, on "door duty", keeping the apartment door open for me when I arrived as she "happened" to be departing. I have met this same woman three times in the apartment lobby, passing by each time, and getting her ugly hairdo seen when I enter the building. This must still be a large energetic transition moment for which the perps cannot yet figure out.
For today's outing I got the four gangstalkers in the elevator again, one a child in a transparent plastic covered stroller. I have seen a number of these plastic rain covers over strollers in the past few days, and it does not make any conventional sense, as there is no threat of rain. My assumption this is an emulation of the plastic pollutants in my system, and having the child as a gangstalker and behind plastic just might help the perps in their remote assay games. Regular readers will know of the perps' obsessions over placing plastics around me and the various games that go on to flick and otherwise accelerate the movement of said plastic props in my proximity.
I got more brown color treatment when out; after making a 90 degree turn, there was a brown colored Volvo at the curb, and the brown dressed owner had just opened the door with more brown colored trim, and only 10' distant was a male brown dressed gangstalker standing still in mid sidewalk on his cell phone, typically used for creating extra electromagnetic field around in the local area. And lo, if there weren't countless brown colored soil-like dust clots on the sidewalk, "browning in" more of the immediate scene. This was a big deal I suppose, as this little scene was set up and timed to the fraction of a second.
Today's vehicular gangstalking was full of Volvos (l like them, and owned them for 20 years) and BMW 3 series, especially the wagon version. The perps even put the BMW's in clusters of two's and threes, something I hadn't seen before. And then come similarly shaped models from other vehicle manufacturers, and often these are scaled down versions, such as the Mazda three door model, the name escaping me for the time being, even if I pass a Mazda dealership often.
And my doctor is moving on he stated; no difference there for me, I was talking to a wall anyhow. He is Asian, and I considered this to be Asian male "face time", my once per month session at the behest of my mind-keepers. Interestingly, the perps are moving me up the brown (skin) scale, as the next doctor will be and East Indian; this is a repeat of their doctor visit stunts of 1997 to 1999 games when I had an obdurate East Indian woman doctor who kept blowing me off about my complaints. I always wondered why she was often looking at the ceiling each time she spoke with me, and it confirms what I have noticed about other shills; they must be getting a text script feed on the retina of their upper eye. Now, it is going to be a deeper shade of brown skin color, and a male doctor. That is likely to serve for another 18 months if the current doctor's duration is a guide. Then who knows, a deep dark skinned African doctor after that, and by then, the perps' brown fixation should be over. Lucky me, only another three years of unmitigated hell from the sickos that created these problems in the first place, and then have trashed the hell out of my existence while they attempt to figure out the pychic damage. Not my problem, and why am I being involved in it?
That stock rejoinder of the above paragraph gets routinely trotted out by way of planted thoughts, and today, I got special noisestalking while keying it in, so there must be something more that the perps want other than controlling me as to what they are scripting me to type.
I told my doctor about various financial needs, most related to the harassment; the frypan with the self-popping spot welds, the self-shredding sheets and the accelerated wear down of my last pair of runners, all perp invoked by remote means. He didn't even blink as to these incredible oddities, indicating to me this was all scripted, as the perps would choke me down if I got into unscripted revelations. The doctor was also doing his best to put his head in front of his LCD display on his PC, moving it back and forth with partial overlaps of the blue colored screen. My perp abetting mother does similar actions; "explaining a problem" with her PC, and flicking her hands in front of the CRT display in an over-obvious attempt to do the perp's bidding. The obvious incidence of hand waving and flicking behavior began when this harassment began.
I got more "blonde stalking" today; one on lead-ahead duty was tailing me for 10 minutes, counting the alternate routes we took around the same block, "showing up" again, aka reprising herself on an unlikely route by anyone's standards who knows this town. They are now appearing as the lastmost gangstalker before my apartment block it seems. After the above mentioned blonde crossed paths with me some 100' from my apartment building, a clip clopping (footwear noise) blonde woman in light brown, red shoes and red lipstick followed me into the building and into the elevator, carrying a Starbuck's coffee (brown color reference) in a grey tray, making her as a member of the Coffe Corps. She looked way overdone for this building; in her late 50's, nice clothes, and coming into a predominantly studio suite building. Anyhow, strange behavior of others in my proximity is nothing new.
1955h
The kerchunk noises are coming on; this particular back beat sound is like no other, and has followed me from Seattle in 2002, to every residence (now seven) since to the present. It is truly amazing that my "neighbors" can make the same sounds with the same coordination with other events, e.g. web page changes, an uncontrolled thought, a pain twinge, reading specific "hot" words, and so it goes. I might as well as be talking to the wall, just like the above mentioned doctor, as none of this makes sense in any scenario except persecutorial harassment in the service of nonconsensual human experimentation and no one wants to hear about it.
The left jaw pain has been coming and going all day, and it often gets invoked in similar circumstances as per above mentioned kerchunk sounds.
2030h
And here is James Henry Graf, the eloquent activist that I know of describing the same pit of hell that I am in Your Brain Is the Battleground;
Imagine being exposed all day every day to the twenty most vicious, sleaziest, most obnoxious persons you have ever met. Imagine not being able to get away from them, having them monitor your thoughts, impulses, physiological processes, dreams, fantasies, memories, and all the events of your daily life. Imagine that they confront, interrogate, threaten, degrade, and torment you day and night. Imagine their contemptuous jibes as they obstruct your every earnest effort. Imagine the humiliation, the frustration, the fury. The closest parallel is that of demonic possession. These are not demons, however. They are real human criminals whom no-one will arrest or prosecute.Literally, invaded up the asshole, and to all thoughts, no matter how fleeting. Ever wonder why so many whistleblowers get nixed before they divulge the goods, Karen Silkwood for example? It is because one's thoughts are surrepticiously read, all the time, though I have no idea as to how widespread this is. Who gets selected for being surveilled and monitored down to every last thought, never mind being guided, directed or controlled?
More of James Henry Graf's pithy and eloquent treatise is at this link as well, Virtual America. Make that Virtual Canada as too, as I have been equally harassed in both countires. Here is a particularly resonant quote from the linked page; based on my experience, he does not exaggerate in the least;
The mock democracy that has cheated, persecuted, humiliated, terrorized, and tortured me is really a "national security" dictatorship, a land surreptitiously controlled by an insolent overclass contemptuous of Law and Constitution, using astounding technology to advance an essentially fascist agenda. It is a vicious, capricious empire, the domain of drooling Caligulas and snarling Torquemadas whose unchecked malevolence enlists the aid of legions of cowards, crooks, liars, and fools. It is a culture of contempt, where personal attack supplants rational debate, where artificial distinctions abound while valid ones are ignored. All is arbitrary here. Everything is relative. Law, ethics, and very reality are defined to suit the nefarious purposes of those in power.I do not know if he has been subject to harassment and abuse from extra-conventional technologies as I experience all time, but he has been hit with physical ailments that can be delivered by action-at-a-distance methods or by X-rays as his T-cell count was abnormally low. I could quote nearly all of his treatise, but if one wants a resounding fact based call to arms over the plight of harassed, tortured, monitored and surveilled citizens, check out Virtual America. He attempted to get refugee status in three European countries and they all repatriated him. I don't think any TI has worked as hard to get official help and been spurned at every turn.
2320h
Time to call this done; my YouTubing is getting hacked more often now. I get audio and vison desybchronization, darkened down stage shots and smeared over personages. All part of the functional decomposition of my bioenergetic being, down to everything I see, hear, think or conclude.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)