10-16-2018
The construction site where I am currently gigging has its moments, perhaps follies. Being a major hospital expansion, it has particular requirements, one being that dust control during construction is maintained. But gee, how about the general contractor exhibit some coordination of trades to make sure they aren't getting in each other's way.
For example, we had a trailer load of mill work arrive, and just then, they decided there was no access to the building. The two stairwells were blocked, as was the usual route, the first floor parkade due to surfacing. But as there was no place to go, we had special permission. But that didn't stop the surfacing outfit from passing by and spraying us with sharp stones, the kind that are embedded in a surface coating. Then some 30 fridges came to cross us up and get in our way of loading the pallet contents.
And as mentioned many times in this blog, the perps have a rabid obsession with shipping pallets, especially when I am around them, on them, handling them etc. This time was no exception as flushes of dudes from other trades kept coursing past as my co-worker (read on) and I were moving the pallet contents around. Then if being in the middle of these dudes walking past wasn't enough, why, the jabbering E. Indians were there where we dropped the pallet contents off. This latter ethnic group, also highly Unfavored, never seems to let up at key perp moments.
10-18-2018
I went to see the Good Doctor in Kelowna today, and she wasn't on top of her game, and she looked puffy, like she was on an antidepressant. She wasn't wearing her wedding ring for the third time in the past three visits, though in the first 2015 visit she told me a little about her husband who is a doctor... As to whether all this is for sure I don't know, but I will take it at face value for now, especially as I haven't seen her since 02-2018. I have been through past one time stunts that were later shown to be such, but given that this is a third time event, I am willing to grant the benefit of doubt. There is something about the perp's agenda that they like to generate false empathy, though I am not sure in this case.
Said doctor forgot to order an iron study, as opposed to just ferritin, which is iron storage and can be artificially boosted by inflammation. She should of known this, as this has been the case in the last two years, and she twice prescribed an iron IV, administered by her, which was helpful. And she forgot that I don't absorb ingested iron very well, something she through her native perceptual diligence had determined back in 2016. She didn't seem to up on the prostate radiotherapy treatments I had last year; and it was her advice I largely followed rather than the local urologist Fuckwit who would of yanked out my prostate without an blink of an eye. (And the same urologist who somehow "failed" to tell me about the radiotherapy option (at a well run public radiotherapy clinic), a disgraceful lapse of professional advice which I won't ever forget. My landlord has also had similar "difficulties" with this same urologist as he related this past summer).
It also seemed that my patient history wasn't fully known to her, when I figured it should be, as she had all the data, and by my expectation, should of recalled much of our past interactions. (I take my own recollection abilities to be the low setting on the proverbial bar). I have next to no insight on the clinical professional's world, and how much they might recall about any given patient, it is just seems mighty peculiar that she, of considerable clinical analytical capabilities had such recall lapses. It was she who introduced me to testosterone injections, on account of her incisive reading of the data that indicated that I was not taking the rub-on kind in. Somehow, she had forgotten this too. Perhaps this was another episode of clinical forgetfulness on her part that the perps deemed I needed to be exposed to. If this was the case they succeeded. Or perhaps this is part of a long term perp arrangement as they like to arrange competency dependence, and then have the competent member slowly slip into a state of circumspection by the other party (me). If this is the case, just leave her alone as she is the best doctor I have ever known. Or perhaps, this is whole fucking skit, again, another perp agenda item for whatever reason.
The Good Doctor did exhibit some recall that I though she wouldn't. Not a wholly strange visit, but a little perturbing that she somehow had such lapses of recall when it seemed she had considerable abilities. Anyhow, I have a phone call appointment next week and I can hopefully get this iron deficiency on track again, for the third year in succession. (BTW, iron deficiency is common among ADD patients).
10-19-2018
A Friday on the construction site, and my co-worker was being passive aggressive again. As in acting weird, but not saying anything. I couldn't quite figure it out, as I texted the boss about a mistake we made, and was wondering if we should proceed to fix it, or leave it as it made perfect sense to do so as we normally go all the way around with our chair rail installation. I though he was annoyed that I revealed that we made a mistake to the boss, as he might be a very contained personality who is disinclined to not reveal such. Hard to read this guy.
But for someone who picks up the needed tool just before I do, some 20x per day for over two weeks now (some kind of control deal going on it seems), and has these inexplicable unexpressed pissy moments, and rarely offers any conversation, he is becoming a pain.
10-24-2018
My Russian born co-worker went on another petulant hissy fit again; I called him on his bullshit and he didn't like it. He didn't like that I texted the boss about an anomalous situation, where an electrical box was crossing the chair rail we were installing. (In fact, he wasn't keeping to the specification he told me about yesterday). This time he aired his grievance, such as he perceived it, and I am still trying to figure out where his is coming from. He was extolling his past residential construction experience and how the electrical box could be easily moved. Like WTF; this is a hospital construction project, and we are mill work installation laborers. We don't touch other trades' stuff, -end of tune. So what was his grievance then? Likely some kind of internalized notion that he is "in charge" (of me), and I violated this by going to the responsible person (our foreman) by way of sending a text about the electrical box anomaly. Besides, my co-worker's notion about the electrical box was to leave it there and cross the chair rail over the plate and then cut the plate around the box. Fucking absurd, and I don't do absurd unless someone is standing over me telling me to do it.
As part of this confrontation, he tells me to "trust me, as I have lots of construction experience". If EVER there was a call sign to wholesale aversion, it is someone telling me to "trust me". As in run the other way, though to be fair, he is only 28 and was only immersed in Western culture at age 16 or so, all while learning English.
Later he tells me the drill bits weren't working, and I then ask him which ones he used, and he used the wrong ones. As part of this disagreement that finally got aired, but not resolved, I get this "trust me" jive from him as well, from someone who comes up with numerous diversionary ideas that don't pan out. No wonder Russia is so fucked up if this is the prevailing mentality.
10-25-2018
By way of curious coincidence, my regular co-worker of the last month, the aforementioned Russian one who pulled a full-on petulant passive-aggressive hissy fit over fuck-all yesterday, (per above, and now I have had 24 hours to evaluate his performance, I am sticking to my same perspective, as in, "what was that about?"), was re-assigned to work with the cabinet installers on the scaffolding. So..., apart from some job hand-over dialog, I didn't get to talk to him much, though I saw him many times owing to my other duties in the same vicinity. He seemed friendly even, and the boss man didn't say anything anyhow.
There was the cut room to clean up, the vacuum cleaners to empty, their filters too, there were cabinets to re-locate, then another panic came on, as other pallets of mill-work had to be suddenly moved, re-cut on a different floor, and then re-distributed to their appropriate floors. Then the only elevator was shut down, due to testing apparently, and I was stiffed with re-distributing this heavy MDF material to six floors by packing it up the stair wells. And lo, if "somehow" I "forgot" to re-load my water bottle this morning and I was utterly parched by day's end. Then onto the local store to get some water on the way home, and I slugged down a 500ml of coconut water while driving. Another water intake test again, as in, where I get my drinking water from.
10-26-2018
I was working on my own doing chair rail installation in a room with little traffic, and lo, if the E Indian cleaners didn't arrive some 15 minutes before I finished up. Then some other things went wrong, and I was kept in the room longer with these jabbering Punjabis again. Utter torture.
More work hauling pallets and flushes of Fuckwits around me again, as well as garbage disposal duties, another perp obsession.
There was another ludicrous imposition by the general contractor again, as they wanted the scaffolding down, which had only been up one day. This was to enable my mill work installation colleagues to install panels in this atrium, as there was no other way to do it as a scissor lift wasn't feasible. The scaffolding went up late Wednesday, and my co-workers were on the job all day Thursday. First thing on Friday morning, the general contractor wanted the scaffolding down when the atrium panel job wasn't complete. The general contractor was told it would be a three day job in advance, and this was the start of day two. Like WTF; is the general contractor deranged or something? How do they expect to retain any credibility when they are constantly coming up with this bullshit.
10-27-2018
Saturday, and a leg wax, and then I went up the street to help out my fickle friend. He is purchasing some used furniture and needed help to move it into his vehicle. His vehicle is a 2008 Ford Escape, and mine "happens" to be a 2001 Ford Escape. Anyhow, it ended up being a half day event to Kelowna, and he treated me to a nice lunch at a trendy charcuterie resturant there.
Then back to his place of employment where he was to borrow the pickup truck, but his boss man had taken it elsewhere. So we did some wine tasting of the active ferments, the Kerner and the Muscat Ottonel.
10-28-2018
More moving of furniture (something I do at work a lot, or cabinetry to be accurate), with my fickle friend this morning. A couch and chair, which represented a whole lot of challenges to get out of a basement suite with a tight turn at the entrance door.
Then an afternoon at work, which became protracted as a tractor trailer load of cabinetry was delay for two hours. And it was the "usual" problem as these pallets are 8' long and the pallet jack cannot lift the heavy loads, and the wheel rises up ioff the ground. There were two other general laborer guys who helped out, and lo, if the truck driver was an E. Indian and he helped out too. I worked in the trailer to free up the loads screwed to the floor and forward them to the guys on the ground who where hand packing them into the adjacent parkade.Anyhow, working some five hours directly with the boss man never hurts.
After some two weeks of banter, I had better get this posted.
Showing posts with label doctor visit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor visit. Show all posts
Sunday, October 28, 2018
Sunday, October 14, 2018
The Most Pointless Doctor Visit
10-12-2018
Finally the anticipated "big nothing" came down to just that. It was this requirement that I be subject to a sleep study by the Bellevue doctor that I do a sleep study back in August. And lo, if there wasn't a good facility in this part of the world, and I got a referral from the walk-in doctor. And all this started when I resumed my ADD Rx, as I wasn't getting a consistent sleep on them. I met with the local licenced sleep doctor, also a shrink as it turned out, who I thought was a limp fish of major proportions. But I played along, and did the study, going to Kelowna and sleeping overnight in the facility there with all the wires attatched to my head, neck, chest abdomen and feet.
And still heavy pit-lamping everywhere I go, especially when making turns in my vehicle, parking or pulling away from from my vehicle. Add in the twits sitting in their vehicles, headlights on of course, everytime I pull into a parking lot, and it seems like this odious gangstalking practice has increased of late, and is being kept at this elevated state for at least six weeks now.
10-12-2018
And then at the construction site where I am still employed, but perhaps for only a few weeks more, I am getting constantly hounded in similar, though ambulatory, circumstances. Anytime I turn a corner, exit a room, get on an elevator etc. And also, keeping the jabbering Punjabis around me seems to a continuing priority as well.
Another construction job gangstalking site of high coverage is the polyethylene sheet "doors", where they erect a sheet of clear polyethylene, often with a zipper in it, as an ostensible means to control dust (or building airflow). But as it "happens", the Punjabi drywall crews have abandoned this practice, and now create dust as they see fit. The rooms where we are allowed to cut wood and MDF boards are also bounded off with polyethylene sheets, and I am a regular daily visitor to clean these rooms up. My work mate does most of the cutting, due to his "need" to take over this function in some kind of territorial predilection, so when he returns to the room we are installing chair rails, he has exited the polyethylene doors, often more than one set. (In the meantime, while he is cutting, I am drilling holes in the walls to mount the support strapping for the chair rails). I have long given up on the perp's need for "plastic stalking" but it does reach my awareness on some occasions. Likely whenever they want me to be aware.
10-13-2018
Saturday, and a in keeping with having multiple appointments in close spacing, I had my hair cut and got my vehicle tires swapped, following on from the above mentioned "most useless doctor's appointment" from the prior day. Getting my tires swapped is a big deal, given the perps interest in rubber, and all things rotational. I have been 16 years into knowing about this one, and am largely inured as to even being aware of it.
The hair stylist was attractive, even with some tasteful non-natural color in her hair (scarlet red), but didn't say much. They usually have these hair stylist students practice customer engagement skills, but not this time. No big deal, and my getting my cut was relatively stress free.
Another week passes, and one has to wonder why two needless EEG tests, 17 years apart. These fuckers never give up.
Finally the anticipated "big nothing" came down to just that. It was this requirement that I be subject to a sleep study by the Bellevue doctor that I do a sleep study back in August. And lo, if there wasn't a good facility in this part of the world, and I got a referral from the walk-in doctor. And all this started when I resumed my ADD Rx, as I wasn't getting a consistent sleep on them. I met with the local licenced sleep doctor, also a shrink as it turned out, who I thought was a limp fish of major proportions. But I played along, and did the study, going to Kelowna and sleeping overnight in the facility there with all the wires attatched to my head, neck, chest abdomen and feet.
So today, I visited the limp fish doctor for the results, and yes, there is some hypo-apnea, not full blown sleep apnea, and I don't snore much either, but no significant clinical issues. She wanted me to work through this one page sleep remedy page, full of good practices and all that for 2-3 months, and I told her it was ridiculous for someone with ADD to stick with something that doesn't mean very much, especially while they were sleeping.
I told her the biggest problem for sleep interuption was these painful leg cramps in the night, as they not only cause me to wake up, but I also need to get up and walk them off. She was no help on that, and while she suggested magnesium cream, she couldn't prescribe it, because as she said, that was the job of my GP. I told her yet again that I don't have one, cannot get one here, and that I go to a walk-in doctor when I am such shape that I need to suffer a 2 hour wait in the office. (Read, unlikely to happen).
Along the way, she said also that I wasn't getting enough deep sleep, and I said that it was likely neuro-hormonally governed (read, dopamine) and there wasn't much I could do about it. Still she insisted that going through the supplied worksheet would help. A few more back-and[-forths on related issues convinced me the doctor was a stultified twit, operating from her script, that wasn't any bit validated in the real world, especially for those with ADD, even if she was a shrink. (Sleep problems are endemic for those with ADD).
But to her credit, sort of, she told me that the half-life of the ADD Rx I was using was 12 hours, and not 8 as I had been led to believe. And furthermore, what I had known, was the effect had totally dissipated after 8 hours, and wasn't a half life. So.... it seems, that two doctors, her being one, had "failed" to inform me that the ADD Rx has a much longer treatment window than I knew, and that this whole sleep study was a bullshit show from the get go. And besides, I worked it out over the past four weeks that if I take the ADD Rx before 1000h, I can get a good night's sleep, which was exactly what I had been doing.
Anyhow, the appointment was over, and she showed me to the medical assistant, and then greeted the incoming patient(s) -a couple, and didn't have the decent grace to say goodbye, and thanks very much. So not only was she a stultified twit of a doctor, but a fucking rude-ass IMHO, as I didn't absolutely nothing to piss her off. I sought her knowledge on getting to good sleep habits, especially with these excruciating nighttime leg cramps, and she had nothing to offer.
So what was that bullshit all about? Well, it would seem, having me sleep with electrodes attached to my head, neck, etc., perhaps 12 in all, for an overnight sleep in another town. And guess what, we did this bullshit back in Seattle where I lived in 2001. The then doctor wanted me to do a weekend long EEG, so I wore all this crap on my head all weekend, and there was no need for it then. I have ADD, and showed this doctor my brain scan, and still this doctor ordered all these unnecessary tests, the EEG being one. (Sleep habits weren't an issue then). So it would seem that the perp assholes wanted yet another needless EEG event, and concocted this latest ridiculous shit show that was "caused" by two shrinks in succession who somehow "failed" to know the half life of the ADD Rx I am taking. Go figure.
And no points awarded as to why I fucking loathe psychiatrists, the archetypes of clinical techno-lies to send you anywhere their masters dictate. And don't ever forget that is their true purpose, which is why they collectively resist quantifiable data practices like getting a brain scan. Never mind the sick-assed criminals like Dr. Ewen Cameron of McGill University, and his staff of 20 or so, who trashed countless patients, some of whom died from terminal surgeries (Duplessis Orphans), from 1948-1963. And he was the instigator, if not founder, of the World Psychiatric Association no less. No crime went unrewarded for this crowd.
10-12-2018
And then at the construction site where I am still employed, but perhaps for only a few weeks more, I am getting constantly hounded in similar, though ambulatory, circumstances. Anytime I turn a corner, exit a room, get on an elevator etc. And also, keeping the jabbering Punjabis around me seems to a continuing priority as well.
Another construction job gangstalking site of high coverage is the polyethylene sheet "doors", where they erect a sheet of clear polyethylene, often with a zipper in it, as an ostensible means to control dust (or building airflow). But as it "happens", the Punjabi drywall crews have abandoned this practice, and now create dust as they see fit. The rooms where we are allowed to cut wood and MDF boards are also bounded off with polyethylene sheets, and I am a regular daily visitor to clean these rooms up. My work mate does most of the cutting, due to his "need" to take over this function in some kind of territorial predilection, so when he returns to the room we are installing chair rails, he has exited the polyethylene doors, often more than one set. (In the meantime, while he is cutting, I am drilling holes in the walls to mount the support strapping for the chair rails). I have long given up on the perp's need for "plastic stalking" but it does reach my awareness on some occasions. Likely whenever they want me to be aware.
10-13-2018
Saturday, and a in keeping with having multiple appointments in close spacing, I had my hair cut and got my vehicle tires swapped, following on from the above mentioned "most useless doctor's appointment" from the prior day. Getting my tires swapped is a big deal, given the perps interest in rubber, and all things rotational. I have been 16 years into knowing about this one, and am largely inured as to even being aware of it.
The hair stylist was attractive, even with some tasteful non-natural color in her hair (scarlet red), but didn't say much. They usually have these hair stylist students practice customer engagement skills, but not this time. No big deal, and my getting my cut was relatively stress free.
Another week passes, and one has to wonder why two needless EEG tests, 17 years apart. These fuckers never give up.
Sunday, March 18, 2018
Re-excisement
03-14-2018
A major messed up day today, starting with the excise wound that opened up in the night after I took the stitches out last night. This was to remove a 5mm lesion of basal cell carcinoma. It held fine, but this morning it was gaping, and at 0645h I decided to go to the hospital to get it re-stitched. This was partly because I didn't want a protracted gangstalk/gong show during regular day time hours at the hospital, and the fact that I was supposed to be starting bottling at 0800h, though I had my doubts about making a one hour turnaround at the hospital.
One drug-addicted looking Fuckwit woman, la common perp guise I have come to know, decided to stare at me while sitting in the Emergency waiting area, so I asked her what she was staring at and then she picked up her backpack and took off. Like WTF; if one is there in Emergency, one is there for a legitimate reason, but no, not for a shill or perp stalking asshole. Lets make it obvious. And I do believe I have seen her before somewhere, perhaps in my 2003-2011 days in Victoria, BC, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada.
I told my story to the triage nurse, then the medical student, and then the real doctor came in, and said, "I heard your story". Good; and then he told me about the pathology report from last week's surgery, and there were still cancer cells at the margins. (And if there is remaining cancer, it will not heal.) Decoded, they took some samples from the edge of the excise wound last week and later found they were still cancerous. I did not know this had been done, and so the option was to wait for the excising surgeon to get to his office and discuss what to do. I said, how about stitching it up and I will contact him and he will then reschedule surgery, as it took four weeks to get it booked in the first place. The real doctor said that was OK, and assigned the medical student the job of stitching me up. Like WTF; why is it me that has the sensible plan, and the doctor says to wait for another doctor who likely will not be available anyhow, and it will take weeks to re-book anyhow? So the medical student got to re-stitch last week's excise wound, and I got to tell him about the real properties of dopamine as a hormone, not just a neurotransmitter.
If I was a betting man, I would say this whole fucking deal (second hospital visit in two weeks over this excise surgery) was all about that; I get to sound off about my favorite clinical topic, dopamine as a hormone, this time to a 4th year medical student. I even talked about my book reading about the non-motor symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, (=neural dopamine deficiency) and didn't get any response. Not that he had a lot to say, and nor did he sound terribly interested, in keeping with all other doctors (9 or so) I have mentioned this to in the course of visiting them. (One weird doctor just stared at me, like he was totally out of it. Another occasion was when The Good Doctor phoned me one time when there was nothing pending, and as the conversation unfolded, I told her about my dopamine write up, and she asked for a copy, which I provided. She never mentioned it when I saw her next). So what is it about dopamine that the perps have me as a one man proselytizer when there is absolutely no hope of making any impact on these clinicians, and them making it all the more obvious by their singularly uniform non-response? Go figure.
If that weren't enough of a strange start to one's day, I went to work to start bottling, but the bottling line wasn't working as the label machine had a sensor that wasn't working properly for the labeling application. I got there at 0915h, and the crew was standing around having coffee. It was decided that we vineyard types would pull canes from the adjacent vineyard where I had been pruning for the prior three weeks and pull the cut canes out. And it "happened" to be raining, and so I got geared up in my rain gear, and lent my extra rain coat to the new guy who "happened" to have his rain coat stolen a few days ago. So three of us pulled canes in the rain for an hour, getting muddy boots in the process.
Then they decided to bottle wine, but the labeling machine still wasn't working, so a full day of bottling of three differing batches, and none were labeled. Which means they are to be hand labeled (somehow), some 4,000 bottles. A 10 hour work day, and it seems the perps just love to have me work late in this first week of daylight savings time.
So what is it about bottling wine, and the Fuckwits wanting blood? Two years ago on a bottling job the assholes cut me with the tape gun cutter and I had to suffer through a cut on my finger while the cases of wine kept coming on at a terrific rate. Not enough time to get a bandaid for crissakes; then they cancelled the break and had that run go for three hours straight. I won't ever forget that one. Added to this shit show over bottling and blood letting, the assholes gave me a cold sore, another source of intermittent blood that will persist for at least a week longer.
03-15-2018
Back to vineyard work today, with the constant noise of house building going on. The usual; saws, drills, hammering, percussive devices etc. Adding to that, they had to tow the glass truck twice through the muddy road in the vineyard. Even the towing pick up truck almost got stuck in four wheel drive. And do the perps ever love to pass gangstalking glass bearing trucks near me, often without the glass even, just the empty rack on the side.
And they screwed me out of taking my audio player as well, now two days of interrupting me listening to LR, one of my favorite singers where I had left off. (I am counting yesterday's bottling work as an interruption). All in keeping with the start up of listening to music with headphones on in the vineyard for 2018. Two days ago, when turning on the portable audio player, they screwed with the normally reliable volume dial so I couldn't get volume, and when I finally did, they messed it up again when I put it in my pocket. Then the display screens didn't work properly, and if there is ever a device for remotely manipulating to render the user utterly infuriated at its dysfunction, it is a touch screen device. They had that one down long before I got it, or any like phone.
I saw the excision doctor this morning for all of 3 minutes; he said the cancer at the edges of his excision from the pathology report was "low grade" and to not worry and the excision wound will heal up. He said that I was young (I'm 63) and doing everything right, at which point I laughed. (Read, curious E. Indian logic here). He asked what I was laughing about and I said if I don't know what I am doing right how do I know I am doing it. For which he had no answer. I am to see him in 6 months. So for now, no more excitement, and to wait 10 days to remove the stitches this time instead of 7. I asked him if it opens up again after I have the stitches removed and he said it won't, so I pressed him, and finally got an answer; go back to emergency. I can just see how that one will go over if I arrive there and present with the same problem.
And who are these Fuckwits in the vineyard who either stand around, or else ride their bicycles through? One, with a harness on, presumably for roofing on the adjacent house construction, was standing 20' from my vehicle when I pulled in looking at his phone for crissakes. I get my gear and walk past him and start vineyard work, and then he follows for crissakes. Then a 2x bicycle rider, presumably from the adjacent house construction crew, zips through the vineyard during working hours. Again, what for? He wasn't accessing a parked vehicle, nor was the aforementioned just-stand-there stalker. This whole gangstalking shit show has escalated since 2018 began, and if I was fed up with it then, I am fucking fed up now. Just leave me the fuck alone.
03-18-2018
Sunday, and I decided to work on tying down vines as we are getting behind and the boss man insists on doing all the pruning. Fortunately there is an extra guy with prior vineyard experience, and is available until the end of April, so perhaps we can get all pruning and tying down done by mid April.
More games with my portable audio player today. I put on "Play All" for a certain artist for whom I have some 8 albums, all of her output to date, and the player then recycles through the first three albums at least 3x before I intervened. I then put on the double live album by itself to fix this weirdness, and lo, if it isn't full of songs from those same three prior albums. The player should of played all 8 albums through and somehow "failed" to do so and "somehow" went into repeat mode on the first three only. As all albums from a certain artist are under the same directory, there is no normal way this audio player should have "decided" on its own to play only the first three repeatedly when it wasn't on on continuous play in the first place. It is just amazing that this portable audio player, which has sat unused since 09-2017, though charged, has suddenly erupted in new problems since I started using it again this week, per above.
Just on the heels of some peculiar pay changes at the vineyard, I see the Irish minx who looks after the book keeping has now moved onto another job. I though she was kind of cute and interesting, but I suppose the perps wanted to shut down that one, and moved her on.
Anyhow, I am getting some intense typo fuckery harassment, where backspacing and re-keying counts for half my key strokes, so it is time to call this one done for the week.
A major messed up day today, starting with the excise wound that opened up in the night after I took the stitches out last night. This was to remove a 5mm lesion of basal cell carcinoma. It held fine, but this morning it was gaping, and at 0645h I decided to go to the hospital to get it re-stitched. This was partly because I didn't want a protracted gangstalk/gong show during regular day time hours at the hospital, and the fact that I was supposed to be starting bottling at 0800h, though I had my doubts about making a one hour turnaround at the hospital.
One drug-addicted looking Fuckwit woman, la common perp guise I have come to know, decided to stare at me while sitting in the Emergency waiting area, so I asked her what she was staring at and then she picked up her backpack and took off. Like WTF; if one is there in Emergency, one is there for a legitimate reason, but no, not for a shill or perp stalking asshole. Lets make it obvious. And I do believe I have seen her before somewhere, perhaps in my 2003-2011 days in Victoria, BC, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada.
I told my story to the triage nurse, then the medical student, and then the real doctor came in, and said, "I heard your story". Good; and then he told me about the pathology report from last week's surgery, and there were still cancer cells at the margins. (And if there is remaining cancer, it will not heal.) Decoded, they took some samples from the edge of the excise wound last week and later found they were still cancerous. I did not know this had been done, and so the option was to wait for the excising surgeon to get to his office and discuss what to do. I said, how about stitching it up and I will contact him and he will then reschedule surgery, as it took four weeks to get it booked in the first place. The real doctor said that was OK, and assigned the medical student the job of stitching me up. Like WTF; why is it me that has the sensible plan, and the doctor says to wait for another doctor who likely will not be available anyhow, and it will take weeks to re-book anyhow? So the medical student got to re-stitch last week's excise wound, and I got to tell him about the real properties of dopamine as a hormone, not just a neurotransmitter.
If I was a betting man, I would say this whole fucking deal (second hospital visit in two weeks over this excise surgery) was all about that; I get to sound off about my favorite clinical topic, dopamine as a hormone, this time to a 4th year medical student. I even talked about my book reading about the non-motor symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, (=neural dopamine deficiency) and didn't get any response. Not that he had a lot to say, and nor did he sound terribly interested, in keeping with all other doctors (9 or so) I have mentioned this to in the course of visiting them. (One weird doctor just stared at me, like he was totally out of it. Another occasion was when The Good Doctor phoned me one time when there was nothing pending, and as the conversation unfolded, I told her about my dopamine write up, and she asked for a copy, which I provided. She never mentioned it when I saw her next). So what is it about dopamine that the perps have me as a one man proselytizer when there is absolutely no hope of making any impact on these clinicians, and them making it all the more obvious by their singularly uniform non-response? Go figure.
If that weren't enough of a strange start to one's day, I went to work to start bottling, but the bottling line wasn't working as the label machine had a sensor that wasn't working properly for the labeling application. I got there at 0915h, and the crew was standing around having coffee. It was decided that we vineyard types would pull canes from the adjacent vineyard where I had been pruning for the prior three weeks and pull the cut canes out. And it "happened" to be raining, and so I got geared up in my rain gear, and lent my extra rain coat to the new guy who "happened" to have his rain coat stolen a few days ago. So three of us pulled canes in the rain for an hour, getting muddy boots in the process.
Then they decided to bottle wine, but the labeling machine still wasn't working, so a full day of bottling of three differing batches, and none were labeled. Which means they are to be hand labeled (somehow), some 4,000 bottles. A 10 hour work day, and it seems the perps just love to have me work late in this first week of daylight savings time.
So what is it about bottling wine, and the Fuckwits wanting blood? Two years ago on a bottling job the assholes cut me with the tape gun cutter and I had to suffer through a cut on my finger while the cases of wine kept coming on at a terrific rate. Not enough time to get a bandaid for crissakes; then they cancelled the break and had that run go for three hours straight. I won't ever forget that one. Added to this shit show over bottling and blood letting, the assholes gave me a cold sore, another source of intermittent blood that will persist for at least a week longer.
03-15-2018
Back to vineyard work today, with the constant noise of house building going on. The usual; saws, drills, hammering, percussive devices etc. Adding to that, they had to tow the glass truck twice through the muddy road in the vineyard. Even the towing pick up truck almost got stuck in four wheel drive. And do the perps ever love to pass gangstalking glass bearing trucks near me, often without the glass even, just the empty rack on the side.
And they screwed me out of taking my audio player as well, now two days of interrupting me listening to LR, one of my favorite singers where I had left off. (I am counting yesterday's bottling work as an interruption). All in keeping with the start up of listening to music with headphones on in the vineyard for 2018. Two days ago, when turning on the portable audio player, they screwed with the normally reliable volume dial so I couldn't get volume, and when I finally did, they messed it up again when I put it in my pocket. Then the display screens didn't work properly, and if there is ever a device for remotely manipulating to render the user utterly infuriated at its dysfunction, it is a touch screen device. They had that one down long before I got it, or any like phone.
I saw the excision doctor this morning for all of 3 minutes; he said the cancer at the edges of his excision from the pathology report was "low grade" and to not worry and the excision wound will heal up. He said that I was young (I'm 63) and doing everything right, at which point I laughed. (Read, curious E. Indian logic here). He asked what I was laughing about and I said if I don't know what I am doing right how do I know I am doing it. For which he had no answer. I am to see him in 6 months. So for now, no more excitement, and to wait 10 days to remove the stitches this time instead of 7. I asked him if it opens up again after I have the stitches removed and he said it won't, so I pressed him, and finally got an answer; go back to emergency. I can just see how that one will go over if I arrive there and present with the same problem.
And who are these Fuckwits in the vineyard who either stand around, or else ride their bicycles through? One, with a harness on, presumably for roofing on the adjacent house construction, was standing 20' from my vehicle when I pulled in looking at his phone for crissakes. I get my gear and walk past him and start vineyard work, and then he follows for crissakes. Then a 2x bicycle rider, presumably from the adjacent house construction crew, zips through the vineyard during working hours. Again, what for? He wasn't accessing a parked vehicle, nor was the aforementioned just-stand-there stalker. This whole gangstalking shit show has escalated since 2018 began, and if I was fed up with it then, I am fucking fed up now. Just leave me the fuck alone.
03-18-2018
Sunday, and I decided to work on tying down vines as we are getting behind and the boss man insists on doing all the pruning. Fortunately there is an extra guy with prior vineyard experience, and is available until the end of April, so perhaps we can get all pruning and tying down done by mid April.
More games with my portable audio player today. I put on "Play All" for a certain artist for whom I have some 8 albums, all of her output to date, and the player then recycles through the first three albums at least 3x before I intervened. I then put on the double live album by itself to fix this weirdness, and lo, if it isn't full of songs from those same three prior albums. The player should of played all 8 albums through and somehow "failed" to do so and "somehow" went into repeat mode on the first three only. As all albums from a certain artist are under the same directory, there is no normal way this audio player should have "decided" on its own to play only the first three repeatedly when it wasn't on on continuous play in the first place. It is just amazing that this portable audio player, which has sat unused since 09-2017, though charged, has suddenly erupted in new problems since I started using it again this week, per above.
Just on the heels of some peculiar pay changes at the vineyard, I see the Irish minx who looks after the book keeping has now moved onto another job. I though she was kind of cute and interesting, but I suppose the perps wanted to shut down that one, and moved her on.
Anyhow, I am getting some intense typo fuckery harassment, where backspacing and re-keying counts for half my key strokes, so it is time to call this one done for the week.
Monday, December 18, 2017
Futility Completion Episode
12-11-2017
Working all day on cane collection in the vineyard, and it wasn't quite so perishing cold as last week thankfully.
Then a 1600h visit to the shrink, which all began because I wanted to resume treatment for my dopamine deficiency, aka ADD back in 02-2017. Though, dopamine is a hormone, and has wide influence on adioposity (fat deposition), immune system mediation, kidney function, urinary function, as well as the usual hit list of cognition, mood, and experience of pleasure. This is the third visit, and owing to the harassment, he declared me dopamine excessive, which means we weren't going anywhere. At the last visit, he was to get the records from the shrink who declared me to be harassed, and/or make phone contact. As it "happened" the records never came, and this shrink didn't bother to make the necessary phone call. Unbelievable, especially when faced with such a dichotomy of diagnosis versus the detail I brought to the table, a SPECT scan which diagnosed ADD - Inattentive subtype, as well as a urine test which determined that I was dopamine deficient. I can thank the perps for all that; the harassment and unconventional bizarre abuse, and this shrink seized upon that and decided that I wasn't ADD. Fucking absurd. But totally predictable, even based on Dr. John Hall's book, Guinea Pigs.
After successfully and roundly condemning his diagnosis for the last two visits, I was rendered a pussycat, when in the least, I should of reamed his ass out for not making the needed phone call to the former shrink. In other words, this asshole didn't want to know. Anyhow, all was civil, as in the prior two visits, but this shrink Fuckwit royally screwed me as I see it.
And he started today's session with the most bizarre introduction, saying, "congratulations, you have never been in more control in your life". Like WTF; what is that supposed to mean, and what does he know about control in my life that I don't know? Or was it some kind of perverse pep talk that is particular to the profession? (He has never done anything like this before in two prior visits). As mentioned, I was totally "pussy catted", as in made to be docile, so I didn't challenge him on his perverse statement. And why congratulate me when I have nothing to do with it?
Anyhow, he was suggesting I get a second opinion, which would be code for "get lost, you are done here". Which to me, was, "thanks for supplying this reason so I can shake you off the hook and call this absurdity over". Onto 2018, expecting that hope springs eternal, and that I can find a substantive diagnosis that will support me healthfully and happily. I still riles the shit of me that I spent the greater part of 2017 expecting forward progress on my dopamine deficiency issues and this asshole took me sideways for so long.
12-12-2017
I wrote my letter of dissent for the shrink's file, aka chart, and dropped one off for the referring doctor/walk-in clinic. That it was a ringing indictment of his incompetence goes without saying, but I kept it civil. I don't expect to change a thing of course, just that it is on the file. The perps scrambled me badly at first in writing it, then eventually it was allowed to become cogent and organized. And I see that they were ready for me when I dropped the letter off at the doctor's office; a three way cluster fuck with a Fuckwit trailing me in, another exiting the office and the office assistant on the phone for an extended call that was obviously protracted for not very much.
What's with the intensive pit-lamping of late, especially around 1800h, dark now at this time of year. It wasn't enough to have the vehicle at the curb opposite with his lights pointed at me from a block away, but he had to then pull away from the curb when 20' from me and then point his headlights at me, as if he were about to collide, always good for getting my attention. As this was at a corner, he then pulled across the road behind me; from curbside to L turn onto an adjacent side street. I don't think I have seen something so obvious as this before.
Then when in the parking lot at LD a woman pulls up in the stall behind me, one off set. And sees that I am walking toward my vehicle, and when I am in it, she then pulls beside me, stops, and then crosses in front of me. And then to lead me down to the opposite of the mall, and park there. About 10 minutes later when in SOF, there she is again, "happening" to be doing her shopping too. Talk about over-obvious; a vehicular and ambulatory stalking combination, from one end of the mall to the other.
12-13-2017
Fussing around today and getting ready for my 8 hour road trip over two mountain passes tomorrow.
But what a colossal vehicular gangstalking and clusterfuck both when I took my sweater to the E. Indian alterations woman, as the ever reliable Phillipino woman closed up shop earlier this year. I had this sweater lying around for four weeks, as the alterations tailor said he couldn't fix it as the material was too elastic, (a wool sweater). So, pissed with this impasse and that it sat around for so long, I took it in as it was only three blocks away. The usual hang-around male was there at the desk, but once done, and I got into my vehicle, there was this train of 30 vehicles that came down the street at 1500h when it was my intent to cross this road to make a L and take it back to my place. But that inconvenience wasn't enough; I had five other vehicles on my side of the road; one turning into the parking area to drive into the parking stall I had just vacated, and others to arrive, or attempt to depart at the same time as I intended. I must of sat through three traffic control cycles before someone stopped and let me through the train and at the same time, ensuring that there was no traffic from the opposite side. I don't think I have seen such a confluence of vehicular traffic arranged for maximum inconvenience since the days of 2002 when they went totally berserk, even at 0300h up and down the I-5 and I-90 when I lived in Seattle. The proximate congestive traffic fuckery, as well as the pit lamping has decidedly ramped up over the past three weeks. They might be getting me ready when I get to Victoria, as I haven't been there for a year, and surely they have increased the gangstalking density there too.
I went to get my repaired sweater at 1645h, a more likely time for an arrival of a traffic train, and lo, it was just a clusterfuck. At least four vehicles arrived to parallel my turn, and/or make an opposite contra-concentric turn as I exited from this same location, one being the same kind of vehicle that I was driving, the now ubiquitous Ford Escape.
12-15-2017
Now in the relative balmier climes of Victoria, BC, the gangstalking capital of Canada. A drive from Pentiction, to Kelowna,and then to Victoria yesterday. The mountain passes (two) were bare and wet no less, no packed snow or freezing ice. In fact, it was bare and dry for the latter third of the trip. Heading up out of Kelowna was tricky for the intense fog, but after 30 minutes I punched through and it was cloudless the remainder of the trip. Even the notoriously thick Fraser Valley and Vancouver traffic was hauling ass at 110kph. A 1.5 hour wait for the ferry at Tswassen unfortunately, but all went OK.
Serious gangstalking today when out with my perp abetting mother especially at the chocolate shop. And the rain came on this morning, seeming to come in an day earlier than forecast.
12-16-2017
Digging the compost at the First Feral Family house, and lo, the aircraft overflights start up. The private single engine fixed wings, and a SAC bomber high up. How many years has this repeated itself? At least ten I suspect.
Hiking today; a group hiking event that I got roped into by way of my farm worker friend. The perps played their infatuation games with the elder-woman; slender, bright and personable at age 65 or so, she seemed to chat up everyone but me and my farm worker friend, and made sure to pass by in front of me much more than anyone else.
I find myself reading about spying, the traditional kind as directed by state agencies; to wit, MI5, the Ring of Five, and deep moles of the UK security services of the 1950's and 1960's. Given the blundering incompetence (and the chief blunderer getting a knighthood ("Sir") out of the deal), it does make me wonder if this whole thing isn't arranged at some deep upper meta level. I just cannot understand how such ineptitude was allowed to reign. And to further this deeper conspiratorial notion, the good guys (patriotic, doing their job), get stiffed with detecting, collecting sufficient evidence, and then get stymied by the politicos (and possible Soviet agents). Such repeated itself in the CIA, and then Angleton, the most resolute spy catcher got ousted. The Soviet disinformation games were (are) intense, and once Colby took over the CIA, he made it policy that defector's stories must be accepted. Read more at Soviet Moles in the CIA . And what might be the purpose of this one government spying (controlling) operation that has factions assigned/pitted for one country to spy on another with the top dogs knowing it is all a prearranged game? I don't know, but as the perps have a consuming interest in information sources, delivery methods, that information may be passed on from one party to another (retelling), and information veracity and its acceptance (and re-appraisal), I have my suspicions.
Enough for a post, and calling this done for the week.
Working all day on cane collection in the vineyard, and it wasn't quite so perishing cold as last week thankfully.
Then a 1600h visit to the shrink, which all began because I wanted to resume treatment for my dopamine deficiency, aka ADD back in 02-2017. Though, dopamine is a hormone, and has wide influence on adioposity (fat deposition), immune system mediation, kidney function, urinary function, as well as the usual hit list of cognition, mood, and experience of pleasure. This is the third visit, and owing to the harassment, he declared me dopamine excessive, which means we weren't going anywhere. At the last visit, he was to get the records from the shrink who declared me to be harassed, and/or make phone contact. As it "happened" the records never came, and this shrink didn't bother to make the necessary phone call. Unbelievable, especially when faced with such a dichotomy of diagnosis versus the detail I brought to the table, a SPECT scan which diagnosed ADD - Inattentive subtype, as well as a urine test which determined that I was dopamine deficient. I can thank the perps for all that; the harassment and unconventional bizarre abuse, and this shrink seized upon that and decided that I wasn't ADD. Fucking absurd. But totally predictable, even based on Dr. John Hall's book, Guinea Pigs.
After successfully and roundly condemning his diagnosis for the last two visits, I was rendered a pussycat, when in the least, I should of reamed his ass out for not making the needed phone call to the former shrink. In other words, this asshole didn't want to know. Anyhow, all was civil, as in the prior two visits, but this shrink Fuckwit royally screwed me as I see it.
And he started today's session with the most bizarre introduction, saying, "congratulations, you have never been in more control in your life". Like WTF; what is that supposed to mean, and what does he know about control in my life that I don't know? Or was it some kind of perverse pep talk that is particular to the profession? (He has never done anything like this before in two prior visits). As mentioned, I was totally "pussy catted", as in made to be docile, so I didn't challenge him on his perverse statement. And why congratulate me when I have nothing to do with it?
Anyhow, he was suggesting I get a second opinion, which would be code for "get lost, you are done here". Which to me, was, "thanks for supplying this reason so I can shake you off the hook and call this absurdity over". Onto 2018, expecting that hope springs eternal, and that I can find a substantive diagnosis that will support me healthfully and happily. I still riles the shit of me that I spent the greater part of 2017 expecting forward progress on my dopamine deficiency issues and this asshole took me sideways for so long.
12-12-2017
I wrote my letter of dissent for the shrink's file, aka chart, and dropped one off for the referring doctor/walk-in clinic. That it was a ringing indictment of his incompetence goes without saying, but I kept it civil. I don't expect to change a thing of course, just that it is on the file. The perps scrambled me badly at first in writing it, then eventually it was allowed to become cogent and organized. And I see that they were ready for me when I dropped the letter off at the doctor's office; a three way cluster fuck with a Fuckwit trailing me in, another exiting the office and the office assistant on the phone for an extended call that was obviously protracted for not very much.
What's with the intensive pit-lamping of late, especially around 1800h, dark now at this time of year. It wasn't enough to have the vehicle at the curb opposite with his lights pointed at me from a block away, but he had to then pull away from the curb when 20' from me and then point his headlights at me, as if he were about to collide, always good for getting my attention. As this was at a corner, he then pulled across the road behind me; from curbside to L turn onto an adjacent side street. I don't think I have seen something so obvious as this before.
Then when in the parking lot at LD a woman pulls up in the stall behind me, one off set. And sees that I am walking toward my vehicle, and when I am in it, she then pulls beside me, stops, and then crosses in front of me. And then to lead me down to the opposite of the mall, and park there. About 10 minutes later when in SOF, there she is again, "happening" to be doing her shopping too. Talk about over-obvious; a vehicular and ambulatory stalking combination, from one end of the mall to the other.
12-13-2017
Fussing around today and getting ready for my 8 hour road trip over two mountain passes tomorrow.
But what a colossal vehicular gangstalking and clusterfuck both when I took my sweater to the E. Indian alterations woman, as the ever reliable Phillipino woman closed up shop earlier this year. I had this sweater lying around for four weeks, as the alterations tailor said he couldn't fix it as the material was too elastic, (a wool sweater). So, pissed with this impasse and that it sat around for so long, I took it in as it was only three blocks away. The usual hang-around male was there at the desk, but once done, and I got into my vehicle, there was this train of 30 vehicles that came down the street at 1500h when it was my intent to cross this road to make a L and take it back to my place. But that inconvenience wasn't enough; I had five other vehicles on my side of the road; one turning into the parking area to drive into the parking stall I had just vacated, and others to arrive, or attempt to depart at the same time as I intended. I must of sat through three traffic control cycles before someone stopped and let me through the train and at the same time, ensuring that there was no traffic from the opposite side. I don't think I have seen such a confluence of vehicular traffic arranged for maximum inconvenience since the days of 2002 when they went totally berserk, even at 0300h up and down the I-5 and I-90 when I lived in Seattle. The proximate congestive traffic fuckery, as well as the pit lamping has decidedly ramped up over the past three weeks. They might be getting me ready when I get to Victoria, as I haven't been there for a year, and surely they have increased the gangstalking density there too.
I went to get my repaired sweater at 1645h, a more likely time for an arrival of a traffic train, and lo, it was just a clusterfuck. At least four vehicles arrived to parallel my turn, and/or make an opposite contra-concentric turn as I exited from this same location, one being the same kind of vehicle that I was driving, the now ubiquitous Ford Escape.
12-15-2017
Now in the relative balmier climes of Victoria, BC, the gangstalking capital of Canada. A drive from Pentiction, to Kelowna,and then to Victoria yesterday. The mountain passes (two) were bare and wet no less, no packed snow or freezing ice. In fact, it was bare and dry for the latter third of the trip. Heading up out of Kelowna was tricky for the intense fog, but after 30 minutes I punched through and it was cloudless the remainder of the trip. Even the notoriously thick Fraser Valley and Vancouver traffic was hauling ass at 110kph. A 1.5 hour wait for the ferry at Tswassen unfortunately, but all went OK.
Serious gangstalking today when out with my perp abetting mother especially at the chocolate shop. And the rain came on this morning, seeming to come in an day earlier than forecast.
12-16-2017
Digging the compost at the First Feral Family house, and lo, the aircraft overflights start up. The private single engine fixed wings, and a SAC bomber high up. How many years has this repeated itself? At least ten I suspect.
Hiking today; a group hiking event that I got roped into by way of my farm worker friend. The perps played their infatuation games with the elder-woman; slender, bright and personable at age 65 or so, she seemed to chat up everyone but me and my farm worker friend, and made sure to pass by in front of me much more than anyone else.
I find myself reading about spying, the traditional kind as directed by state agencies; to wit, MI5, the Ring of Five, and deep moles of the UK security services of the 1950's and 1960's. Given the blundering incompetence (and the chief blunderer getting a knighthood ("Sir") out of the deal), it does make me wonder if this whole thing isn't arranged at some deep upper meta level. I just cannot understand how such ineptitude was allowed to reign. And to further this deeper conspiratorial notion, the good guys (patriotic, doing their job), get stiffed with detecting, collecting sufficient evidence, and then get stymied by the politicos (and possible Soviet agents). Such repeated itself in the CIA, and then Angleton, the most resolute spy catcher got ousted. The Soviet disinformation games were (are) intense, and once Colby took over the CIA, he made it policy that defector's stories must be accepted. Read more at Soviet Moles in the CIA . And what might be the purpose of this one government spying (controlling) operation that has factions assigned/pitted for one country to spy on another with the top dogs knowing it is all a prearranged game? I don't know, but as the perps have a consuming interest in information sources, delivery methods, that information may be passed on from one party to another (retelling), and information veracity and its acceptance (and re-appraisal), I have my suspicions.
Enough for a post, and calling this done for the week.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Post Shut-in Cluster F**k
01-16-2017;
Why is is that after a shut-in day (yesterday, due the installation of the track lighting at my residence), is it that there is a surge of gangstalking on my ass wherever I go, aka, a cluster of clusterfucks? (The latter term I use to describe higher gangstalking density and arranged confluences around me, used differently from its military origins to describe a field exercise gone terribly wrong among various groups that were intended to coordinate, but instead, are confused and at odds.)
Five stops this morning on my outing, and at each stop it got more intense. They even put on a street works, one-through lane obstruction at my turn to the first errand stop, Value Village. (Per traffic control personnel, I went through the obstruction on the opposite side of the road). Then onto the re-cycle drop off, then back on the same street to the specialty grocer, where the dude force was out to hound my ass walking in, through the store, check out and outside. At least they put a new attractive cashier for the first time, skipping the fuglies of various descriptions, save the one I regarded as neutral.
Then to the mall to get more groceries as the specialty grocer's prices were too high, and instead of getting pomegranate juice for $17/L, I got it for $10/L on sale. Then onto LD to get more of those ridiculously priced razor blades, and what a holy gangstalking it was. Even so far as having the ridiculous dudes lounging around at -8C in 30kph winds outside the mall doors. (Like WTF; if was legit, wouldn't they hang around inside?). And lo, if LD wasn't having a customer surge just then, with only one checkout active, the other shutting down. Also, the surging arriving customers came to cross through the line of customers waiting for a checkout. And why do they always cross in front or behind me? This goes back decades to cinema lineups and others; it seemed that there was an inordinate number of people (now termed perp controlled Fuckwits), who "needed" to cross the queue in my immediate proximity. And we had a queue jumper today as well, putting on the grinning idiot look. Why I didn't say anything was a testament to mind control IMHO. I swore to myself I would give up on LD and try that awful perp place called Walmart. But that is where I almost got chest butted by an apparent staff member who decided to walk down my aisle with her head down. Another nutzo perp establishment IMHO.
All this later morning activity was started by the assholes who kept me asleep an hour past the alarm. This preceded by keeping me awake most of the night with alternating light sleep. And as mentioned many times in these postings, the perps can keep one awake all night and one feels just fine and not tired in the least the whole next day. They even kept up this sleepless run for three days back in the helter-skelter harassment days of 2002.
01-17-2017
A morning trip to Kelowna to visit the Good Doctor (mostly, but not always), to view and consult on my dopamine test results. If the results got reported Dec. 21, 2016, I do find it tardy that I wasn't called until Jan. 11 to make an appointment. Anyhow, all my planted notions over the test going missing in the Christmas mail came to naught, and we do know who likes to plant FUD, especially the Doubt component.
After all that, my dopamine is low, but my glutamine is much lower than the range. So more supplements to improve digestion and then to add glutamine to my diet. And we did get onto the topic of me being harassed owing to my former stimulant medication history, as that episode that stopped that particular very successful medication application. I thought this was most unusual, that I got to reveal my harassment history in summary, when of course it seems that most everything is arranged beforehand. She didn't seem too deeply interested in all the details as to how it all happened, but at least she isn't playing naive any more. If all goes according to past such revelation rarities, she will pretend it didn't ever happen and no reference will be made to this egregious and all-encompassing violation of one's personal existence.
Nor was the Good Doctor interested in my latest theory that low Vitamin C absorption might be at the root of my dopamine, and now glutamine, levels. It just seems each visit the whole thing is rigged, and part of it is too, to ignore what I am saying no matter the validity. Given the high strangeness the clinical profession lapses into whenever I mention "dopamine", why am I surprised. And not to forget, the Good Doctor blew me off last year when I offered my dopamine deficiency thesis, and she said "there is nothing I can do". Well she is doing something now, and in good measure because I insisted on the dopamine pee test which finally got done in 12-2016. And it got delayed 6 months due to the prostate cancer onset/panic/re-direction of concerns.
And while visiting Kelowna, I had a number of shopping plans after my appointment, but somehow felt "guided" not to undertake any of them and returned home instead. Like WTF; I have the time to do so at present, and it wasn't a huge endeavor to stop at a few favorite locations, but no, the stern hand of the Repressors came on and I dutifully drove home.
And I should of been reading "Naturopathic Oncology", but somehow got derailed into reading Alien Agenda by Jim Marrs, a fine summary book on UFO's and abductions and crop circles that summarizes many others' findings, some with a historical context. Some referenced authors use the term "Earth quarantine" to mean that we are kept separate from the rest of the cosmos to prevent us from attaining higher vibrational states. Certainly, more than one researcher has put themselves out there to state as much, and it does concur with what I have come to believe, in good measure enforced by my TI experiences. I think TI's are part of the continuum that alien abductions belong to; nonconsensual human research subjects, excepting that we are researched down the the last detail, perhaps even sub-atomic detail. And that takes time, much more that a typical visitation and abduction duration by an alien craft and crew. Though I am sure there are human cooperators, perhaps, "running with aliens" might describe this crowd, but it seems even this cooperative access to humans (perps) isn't sufficient so they round on TI's and harass the living piss out of them (figuratively and literally) so they can be researched to deeper levels in situ. That aliens have been around since recorded time, and even millions of years ago according to some contactees, still hasn't given them sufficient observation duration for us "earthly containers". I don't discuss the alien, abduction and world control topics much on this here blog, as it is just too much beyond the realm of what I have to deal with every day and dilutes the nature of what this blog is all about. "Alien Agenda" is highly recommended, and my fondest wish is that us TI's would get a chapter in it to round it out. Then all would be copesthetic.
01-18-2017
The autobody repair guy called yesterday and said that could I bring the Ford Escape in today for it's repair, originally scheduled 6 days hence. Sure, I said, wondering how such an irregularity in scheduling keeps "happening" to me. He only had two days to get the parts for crissakes. But whatever. My mother's pinball driving methods have finally come down to this.
Which includes not getting the repair done in August 2016, and then in late December I attempted to get it done in Victoria but never heard back from the shop. All to deprive me of the vehicle for 6 days having drove it here only a week ago. Back to driving the Camry, my regular ride of the past five years. Switching me between... [tasks, locations etc.- fill in the blank] is nothing new, and so it would seem this is part of the ongoing perp arrangements that are now so familiar.
Anyhow, I met up with the auto body repair guy at 0800h this morning, and he dropped me back at my place so I could then step out and get into the Camry and drive it to Toyota for its oil change. Funny how they arranged a convergence of auto repairs, this briefest of intervals when I have two in my ownership. I hung out at the local Starbucks and then nearby SOF supermarket while the repairs were done. It is rare that they let me drink coffee, but unusually they did, and the gangstalking was low key for once. And for "some reason" the assholes dithered me when I got back home and "forgot" my groceries in the vehicle for three hours. Thanks a bunch, another never-before neural invasion event.
01-19-2017
What is it about screwing up sequences, or the expectation of something being in sequence, that so interests the perps? I see that my text messages don't come in sequence any more (since 05-2017); if a response arrives within a few minutes, it pops up above the message I sent to elicit said response. And now I see Amazon is jacking with the listings, as they were always in order of lowest price to highest for the item in question, (say, looking at used items from the "used" link), but now they are all in a quasi-sequence; the lowest at first, and then increasing, and then lower prices again. Go figure.
Taking out the garbage tonight begat me extra attention for this perp-important event. The back lane neighbor's dog was out and I got continuous barking dog coverage. The owners did screw all apart from yelling at the dog until the last of my two trips to the landlord's garbage canisters. And too, a helicopter circling overhead for two low passes while the dog was barking. There is something the perps like about night flights, barking dogs and garbage duty.
All this because of about 07-2016, the new garbage regulations were that I had to use the landlord's garbage canisters and could not put one out for myself as I had been doing for three years here. Never mind they still drive past my former garbage can deposit location with the garbage truck. All things change if it is of perp interest, especially the long running obsessions they have, garbage being one.
The snow is finally melting, and that crunchy ice packed surface has now revealed all the normal ground surfaces. It looks like the "snow pack" (in town) has finally receded after some four weeks, of which I was away for two. Again, snow and ice represent part of the perp agenda and their preoccupation with water in all its forms, sources, delivery and distribution methods from weather (call it natural) to pipes, sprinklers, drains etc. and of course, it being imbibed or taken with irrigated food crops. If they have been following us for a million years or so, this is a very deep research project, us humans and all plants in all our water usage and transference.
01-20-2017
To my semi-regular TI caller; I got your message, duly deleted. Look into MMS for Lyme Disease, if you are sure you have it.
Ford Escape body work got done four days ahead of time; I thought it was going to be done next week, but he phoned me this afternoon (Friday). No ride offer this time, and so I walked up there, which turned out to be holy vehicular gangstalking swarm. They don't often have me doing "street walking" any more since vehicle ownership was allowed in 2012, but when I do, they go crazy.
And talk about a bum deal; the auto body shop owner has a father-in-law with cancer, a mother-in-law with Lyme Disease and twin girls with cerebral palsy. All that covered in the time while finishing up the paper work. So if he knows something about the perps and their arrangements, then he must know they had a hand in such medical matters. I wonder how this whole deal sits with such folks.
A job interview this afternoon; the guy said he knew about me from the work I did for the bud collection project there. Not exactly a friendly interviewer, especially for the casual world of farm work, but maybe he was scared shitless, given the seeming perp set up that I walk into for such situations. And for perhaps every situation, as it seems.
It seems that I am getting behind on gangstalking literature. Once sparse, a recent search on Amazon picked up a bunch of books. "Gangstalking; the Threat to Humanity" seems to be a good one, written by a professional to whom this has been happening. As so often, it seems like an event triggers the extra surveillance and attention, but in my experience they have long been following the victim and for whatever reason need a cover story to go overt. Overt to the victim, though outwardly, is pretend-to-believe. "Diary of an Angry Targeted Individual" by Renee Pittman. Again, I haven't read it, but the reviews are positive.
01-21-2017
Saturday, and despite my best efforts in having the alarm set for 0800h, they screwed me into a 0930h get-up. Which segued into a great total morning write-off as I had another vehicle appointment at 1100h, to get the new audio unit installed. It takes an hour, so I was cut loose to look around the local stores, and not finding what I was looking for in the way of fleece lined winter tights. (My very favorite winter time leg coverings as they are so warm and comfortable as long as they are reasonably wind resistant). But the gangstalking bullshit started up at the second store so I refrained from going to Walmart next door, as I am so fed up of that place and its gangstalking scene. Then to a coffee chain, TH, where I could even find a seat and was yet again, relatively free from the gangstalking scene. I got to hear Germans at the next table and all their phone woes about travelling in Europe and the US.
Maybe that was a set up for my own phone woes, as I connected to the free Wi-Fi there and yet could not get on the internet to view my mail. Like WTF; why is the Android platform, or perhaps, any platform I chose, such an utter and obstinant techo-adverse event? Perhaps that is why they decided to have me not use the Iphone where it might actually be convenient and ergonomically understandable.
All to set me up with the Pioneer deck in my vehicle and its changing lighting, which just drives me squirrely; one color, as long it is not red or pink. I am at about six attempts to get the pathetic manual understood, but had to resort to Youtube to find out yet more commands the frigging manual "forgot" to include. The perps know how to exploit every last detail, and confuse the victim; "Key Color" was not an instruction on keying in a color as I was lead to believe, but an option to light the keys, which would of been followed by another command to change the display, which then would be followed by an option for both. I think I am up to 10 screaming rage-fications over that one alone, and of course, that is only the start of mastering these multi-modal buttons which must be perp designed to drive victims crazy. Pioneer and Ikea both go down together in How Not to Write a Manual camp, though I am sure there are plenty of others. Hint for the tech-twits; see if your wife can follow the manual; if not, fix it until she can. This is not intended to be a sexist remark, but there are certain cognition subsets between the genders (usually), and I don't line up with the tech-twits. And I have the Fourth Reich on my ass to drive that point home at every opportunity, today being an especially exploitative exasperation campaign of theirs. All related to their insane obsession over where information comes from and how I deploy it, aka, epistemology. (Did you ever think all those school and college shootings were random?). All the better for the perps if I make ump-teen attempts at following the manual and failing each time. Thanks a lot assholes for this cognitive hell, substantially worse since they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.
01-22-2017
Sunday, and the continuing saga of an Amazon transaction that looks too good to be true burned me up yesterday. Unfettered by perp mind control games, I would of not got into this at all, but now I am attempting to terminate this idiocy as it has gone on for too long, and seems more irregular with each passing event. Lets see; Amazon had the greatest system for online transactions going; put the item in the "shopping cart", pay, and it gets shipped, usually promptly and correctly. Now with this Amazon Marketplace (whatever that is exactly), the transaction gets protracted for days and one isn't sure it is a scam for the entire duration, until the item gets delivered. How did they come to screw up such a magnificent and dog-simple method? I tell you, the perps just love to sabotage all things that work well, and this could be such an example. Read on.
And today, I see the Amazon help page has gone blank, and the phone help has gone missing from last night's web browsing. The help phone numbers were missing last night for crissakes.
Finally, the Amazon help page does come up with a phone number, and I phone, and it is confirmed to be a scam. The adage, "if it looks too good to be true, it usually is" applies, and due to the mind fuck games I violated my own ethic. Thanks assholes. No financial hit on this thankfully.
That all done, and a late lunch due to a 9.5 hour sleep in, no prior sleep deficit, per usual. And the assholes pulled a good one; they had me puke up my lunch. Nothing unusual or ill feeling or flu-ish, they just wanted me to puke. So they did. They have done this less than 4x since the overt harassment started in 2002, and perhaps the same again for the sensation that it was going to happen, but didn't. It seems the color green factors into this, wearing a green sweater today, and green food inside me. The last time they pulled this puking stunt was in 2012, when it "happened" outside on a backyard lawn. And don't ask me how they decide as to which TI gets how much of the imposed pissing, shitting or puking problems than they had before the harassment went overt. The harassment regimen and guidelines must be established for each TI, and all the variances, as well as any needed conventional medical cover story.
Then they backed the toilet up on the third flush after two earlier flushes sending the puke drain bound. There isn't any conventional reason for this whatsover, but I am long familiar with the unconventional nowadays, especially with toilets.
Now late, and a call from my semi-regular TI caller. As usual, the Magic Jack connection sucks and there were at least four breaks in communication. Not unusual in TI World, where perp caused interruptions are the rule of the day. Another shut-in day, and so I will call this one done, and likely the experiences in the post title will repeat themselves tomorrow.
Why is is that after a shut-in day (yesterday, due the installation of the track lighting at my residence), is it that there is a surge of gangstalking on my ass wherever I go, aka, a cluster of clusterfucks? (The latter term I use to describe higher gangstalking density and arranged confluences around me, used differently from its military origins to describe a field exercise gone terribly wrong among various groups that were intended to coordinate, but instead, are confused and at odds.)
Five stops this morning on my outing, and at each stop it got more intense. They even put on a street works, one-through lane obstruction at my turn to the first errand stop, Value Village. (Per traffic control personnel, I went through the obstruction on the opposite side of the road). Then onto the re-cycle drop off, then back on the same street to the specialty grocer, where the dude force was out to hound my ass walking in, through the store, check out and outside. At least they put a new attractive cashier for the first time, skipping the fuglies of various descriptions, save the one I regarded as neutral.
Then to the mall to get more groceries as the specialty grocer's prices were too high, and instead of getting pomegranate juice for $17/L, I got it for $10/L on sale. Then onto LD to get more of those ridiculously priced razor blades, and what a holy gangstalking it was. Even so far as having the ridiculous dudes lounging around at -8C in 30kph winds outside the mall doors. (Like WTF; if was legit, wouldn't they hang around inside?). And lo, if LD wasn't having a customer surge just then, with only one checkout active, the other shutting down. Also, the surging arriving customers came to cross through the line of customers waiting for a checkout. And why do they always cross in front or behind me? This goes back decades to cinema lineups and others; it seemed that there was an inordinate number of people (now termed perp controlled Fuckwits), who "needed" to cross the queue in my immediate proximity. And we had a queue jumper today as well, putting on the grinning idiot look. Why I didn't say anything was a testament to mind control IMHO. I swore to myself I would give up on LD and try that awful perp place called Walmart. But that is where I almost got chest butted by an apparent staff member who decided to walk down my aisle with her head down. Another nutzo perp establishment IMHO.
All this later morning activity was started by the assholes who kept me asleep an hour past the alarm. This preceded by keeping me awake most of the night with alternating light sleep. And as mentioned many times in these postings, the perps can keep one awake all night and one feels just fine and not tired in the least the whole next day. They even kept up this sleepless run for three days back in the helter-skelter harassment days of 2002.
01-17-2017
A morning trip to Kelowna to visit the Good Doctor (mostly, but not always), to view and consult on my dopamine test results. If the results got reported Dec. 21, 2016, I do find it tardy that I wasn't called until Jan. 11 to make an appointment. Anyhow, all my planted notions over the test going missing in the Christmas mail came to naught, and we do know who likes to plant FUD, especially the Doubt component.
After all that, my dopamine is low, but my glutamine is much lower than the range. So more supplements to improve digestion and then to add glutamine to my diet. And we did get onto the topic of me being harassed owing to my former stimulant medication history, as that episode that stopped that particular very successful medication application. I thought this was most unusual, that I got to reveal my harassment history in summary, when of course it seems that most everything is arranged beforehand. She didn't seem too deeply interested in all the details as to how it all happened, but at least she isn't playing naive any more. If all goes according to past such revelation rarities, she will pretend it didn't ever happen and no reference will be made to this egregious and all-encompassing violation of one's personal existence.
Nor was the Good Doctor interested in my latest theory that low Vitamin C absorption might be at the root of my dopamine, and now glutamine, levels. It just seems each visit the whole thing is rigged, and part of it is too, to ignore what I am saying no matter the validity. Given the high strangeness the clinical profession lapses into whenever I mention "dopamine", why am I surprised. And not to forget, the Good Doctor blew me off last year when I offered my dopamine deficiency thesis, and she said "there is nothing I can do". Well she is doing something now, and in good measure because I insisted on the dopamine pee test which finally got done in 12-2016. And it got delayed 6 months due to the prostate cancer onset/panic/re-direction of concerns.
And while visiting Kelowna, I had a number of shopping plans after my appointment, but somehow felt "guided" not to undertake any of them and returned home instead. Like WTF; I have the time to do so at present, and it wasn't a huge endeavor to stop at a few favorite locations, but no, the stern hand of the Repressors came on and I dutifully drove home.
And I should of been reading "Naturopathic Oncology", but somehow got derailed into reading Alien Agenda by Jim Marrs, a fine summary book on UFO's and abductions and crop circles that summarizes many others' findings, some with a historical context. Some referenced authors use the term "Earth quarantine" to mean that we are kept separate from the rest of the cosmos to prevent us from attaining higher vibrational states. Certainly, more than one researcher has put themselves out there to state as much, and it does concur with what I have come to believe, in good measure enforced by my TI experiences. I think TI's are part of the continuum that alien abductions belong to; nonconsensual human research subjects, excepting that we are researched down the the last detail, perhaps even sub-atomic detail. And that takes time, much more that a typical visitation and abduction duration by an alien craft and crew. Though I am sure there are human cooperators, perhaps, "running with aliens" might describe this crowd, but it seems even this cooperative access to humans (perps) isn't sufficient so they round on TI's and harass the living piss out of them (figuratively and literally) so they can be researched to deeper levels in situ. That aliens have been around since recorded time, and even millions of years ago according to some contactees, still hasn't given them sufficient observation duration for us "earthly containers". I don't discuss the alien, abduction and world control topics much on this here blog, as it is just too much beyond the realm of what I have to deal with every day and dilutes the nature of what this blog is all about. "Alien Agenda" is highly recommended, and my fondest wish is that us TI's would get a chapter in it to round it out. Then all would be copesthetic.
01-18-2017
The autobody repair guy called yesterday and said that could I bring the Ford Escape in today for it's repair, originally scheduled 6 days hence. Sure, I said, wondering how such an irregularity in scheduling keeps "happening" to me. He only had two days to get the parts for crissakes. But whatever. My mother's pinball driving methods have finally come down to this.
Which includes not getting the repair done in August 2016, and then in late December I attempted to get it done in Victoria but never heard back from the shop. All to deprive me of the vehicle for 6 days having drove it here only a week ago. Back to driving the Camry, my regular ride of the past five years. Switching me between... [tasks, locations etc.- fill in the blank] is nothing new, and so it would seem this is part of the ongoing perp arrangements that are now so familiar.
Anyhow, I met up with the auto body repair guy at 0800h this morning, and he dropped me back at my place so I could then step out and get into the Camry and drive it to Toyota for its oil change. Funny how they arranged a convergence of auto repairs, this briefest of intervals when I have two in my ownership. I hung out at the local Starbucks and then nearby SOF supermarket while the repairs were done. It is rare that they let me drink coffee, but unusually they did, and the gangstalking was low key for once. And for "some reason" the assholes dithered me when I got back home and "forgot" my groceries in the vehicle for three hours. Thanks a bunch, another never-before neural invasion event.
01-19-2017
What is it about screwing up sequences, or the expectation of something being in sequence, that so interests the perps? I see that my text messages don't come in sequence any more (since 05-2017); if a response arrives within a few minutes, it pops up above the message I sent to elicit said response. And now I see Amazon is jacking with the listings, as they were always in order of lowest price to highest for the item in question, (say, looking at used items from the "used" link), but now they are all in a quasi-sequence; the lowest at first, and then increasing, and then lower prices again. Go figure.
Taking out the garbage tonight begat me extra attention for this perp-important event. The back lane neighbor's dog was out and I got continuous barking dog coverage. The owners did screw all apart from yelling at the dog until the last of my two trips to the landlord's garbage canisters. And too, a helicopter circling overhead for two low passes while the dog was barking. There is something the perps like about night flights, barking dogs and garbage duty.
All this because of about 07-2016, the new garbage regulations were that I had to use the landlord's garbage canisters and could not put one out for myself as I had been doing for three years here. Never mind they still drive past my former garbage can deposit location with the garbage truck. All things change if it is of perp interest, especially the long running obsessions they have, garbage being one.
The snow is finally melting, and that crunchy ice packed surface has now revealed all the normal ground surfaces. It looks like the "snow pack" (in town) has finally receded after some four weeks, of which I was away for two. Again, snow and ice represent part of the perp agenda and their preoccupation with water in all its forms, sources, delivery and distribution methods from weather (call it natural) to pipes, sprinklers, drains etc. and of course, it being imbibed or taken with irrigated food crops. If they have been following us for a million years or so, this is a very deep research project, us humans and all plants in all our water usage and transference.
01-20-2017
To my semi-regular TI caller; I got your message, duly deleted. Look into MMS for Lyme Disease, if you are sure you have it.
Ford Escape body work got done four days ahead of time; I thought it was going to be done next week, but he phoned me this afternoon (Friday). No ride offer this time, and so I walked up there, which turned out to be holy vehicular gangstalking swarm. They don't often have me doing "street walking" any more since vehicle ownership was allowed in 2012, but when I do, they go crazy.
And talk about a bum deal; the auto body shop owner has a father-in-law with cancer, a mother-in-law with Lyme Disease and twin girls with cerebral palsy. All that covered in the time while finishing up the paper work. So if he knows something about the perps and their arrangements, then he must know they had a hand in such medical matters. I wonder how this whole deal sits with such folks.
A job interview this afternoon; the guy said he knew about me from the work I did for the bud collection project there. Not exactly a friendly interviewer, especially for the casual world of farm work, but maybe he was scared shitless, given the seeming perp set up that I walk into for such situations. And for perhaps every situation, as it seems.
It seems that I am getting behind on gangstalking literature. Once sparse, a recent search on Amazon picked up a bunch of books. "Gangstalking; the Threat to Humanity" seems to be a good one, written by a professional to whom this has been happening. As so often, it seems like an event triggers the extra surveillance and attention, but in my experience they have long been following the victim and for whatever reason need a cover story to go overt. Overt to the victim, though outwardly, is pretend-to-believe. "Diary of an Angry Targeted Individual" by Renee Pittman. Again, I haven't read it, but the reviews are positive.
01-21-2017
Saturday, and despite my best efforts in having the alarm set for 0800h, they screwed me into a 0930h get-up. Which segued into a great total morning write-off as I had another vehicle appointment at 1100h, to get the new audio unit installed. It takes an hour, so I was cut loose to look around the local stores, and not finding what I was looking for in the way of fleece lined winter tights. (My very favorite winter time leg coverings as they are so warm and comfortable as long as they are reasonably wind resistant). But the gangstalking bullshit started up at the second store so I refrained from going to Walmart next door, as I am so fed up of that place and its gangstalking scene. Then to a coffee chain, TH, where I could even find a seat and was yet again, relatively free from the gangstalking scene. I got to hear Germans at the next table and all their phone woes about travelling in Europe and the US.
Maybe that was a set up for my own phone woes, as I connected to the free Wi-Fi there and yet could not get on the internet to view my mail. Like WTF; why is the Android platform, or perhaps, any platform I chose, such an utter and obstinant techo-adverse event? Perhaps that is why they decided to have me not use the Iphone where it might actually be convenient and ergonomically understandable.
All to set me up with the Pioneer deck in my vehicle and its changing lighting, which just drives me squirrely; one color, as long it is not red or pink. I am at about six attempts to get the pathetic manual understood, but had to resort to Youtube to find out yet more commands the frigging manual "forgot" to include. The perps know how to exploit every last detail, and confuse the victim; "Key Color" was not an instruction on keying in a color as I was lead to believe, but an option to light the keys, which would of been followed by another command to change the display, which then would be followed by an option for both. I think I am up to 10 screaming rage-fications over that one alone, and of course, that is only the start of mastering these multi-modal buttons which must be perp designed to drive victims crazy. Pioneer and Ikea both go down together in How Not to Write a Manual camp, though I am sure there are plenty of others. Hint for the tech-twits; see if your wife can follow the manual; if not, fix it until she can. This is not intended to be a sexist remark, but there are certain cognition subsets between the genders (usually), and I don't line up with the tech-twits. And I have the Fourth Reich on my ass to drive that point home at every opportunity, today being an especially exploitative exasperation campaign of theirs. All related to their insane obsession over where information comes from and how I deploy it, aka, epistemology. (Did you ever think all those school and college shootings were random?). All the better for the perps if I make ump-teen attempts at following the manual and failing each time. Thanks a lot assholes for this cognitive hell, substantially worse since they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.
01-22-2017
Sunday, and the continuing saga of an Amazon transaction that looks too good to be true burned me up yesterday. Unfettered by perp mind control games, I would of not got into this at all, but now I am attempting to terminate this idiocy as it has gone on for too long, and seems more irregular with each passing event. Lets see; Amazon had the greatest system for online transactions going; put the item in the "shopping cart", pay, and it gets shipped, usually promptly and correctly. Now with this Amazon Marketplace (whatever that is exactly), the transaction gets protracted for days and one isn't sure it is a scam for the entire duration, until the item gets delivered. How did they come to screw up such a magnificent and dog-simple method? I tell you, the perps just love to sabotage all things that work well, and this could be such an example. Read on.
And today, I see the Amazon help page has gone blank, and the phone help has gone missing from last night's web browsing. The help phone numbers were missing last night for crissakes.
Finally, the Amazon help page does come up with a phone number, and I phone, and it is confirmed to be a scam. The adage, "if it looks too good to be true, it usually is" applies, and due to the mind fuck games I violated my own ethic. Thanks assholes. No financial hit on this thankfully.
That all done, and a late lunch due to a 9.5 hour sleep in, no prior sleep deficit, per usual. And the assholes pulled a good one; they had me puke up my lunch. Nothing unusual or ill feeling or flu-ish, they just wanted me to puke. So they did. They have done this less than 4x since the overt harassment started in 2002, and perhaps the same again for the sensation that it was going to happen, but didn't. It seems the color green factors into this, wearing a green sweater today, and green food inside me. The last time they pulled this puking stunt was in 2012, when it "happened" outside on a backyard lawn. And don't ask me how they decide as to which TI gets how much of the imposed pissing, shitting or puking problems than they had before the harassment went overt. The harassment regimen and guidelines must be established for each TI, and all the variances, as well as any needed conventional medical cover story.
Then they backed the toilet up on the third flush after two earlier flushes sending the puke drain bound. There isn't any conventional reason for this whatsover, but I am long familiar with the unconventional nowadays, especially with toilets.
Now late, and a call from my semi-regular TI caller. As usual, the Magic Jack connection sucks and there were at least four breaks in communication. Not unusual in TI World, where perp caused interruptions are the rule of the day. Another shut-in day, and so I will call this one done, and likely the experiences in the post title will repeat themselves tomorrow.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Naturopathic Diversion
11-21-2016
Saw the naturopath last week over my prostate cancer, and I explained some of my past medical history, but she adroitly cut me off when I was about to explain the 04-2002 apartment invasion by unknown personnel, (and the associated ADD pro-dopaminergic treatment cessation) the opening barrage of this nonstop abuse-athon. Funny how her timing was so impeccable just when the story was getting interesting. Talk about well scripted or well mind controlled (or both).
She said not to worry about dopamine deficiency; here we go again, climbing that wall of adversity of getting treated for dopamine deficiency. Been there, done that, now 4 for the count this time. (Counting as follows; one walk-in clinic GP stared at me when I mentioned a dopamine deficiency, another GP flat out said "I cannot help you" -no discussion, and the urologist avoided any discourse when I mentioned this. AND I find out recently that dopamine deficiency is implicated in bladder and urological problems). Not forgetting during the 1996-2001 depression and dysfunction years, three shrinks and one neurologist (count=4 again) blew me off about not having ADD, a dopamine deficiency problem by definition. And too, I had had done prior homework by studying the clinical text and told them exactly the symptoms I had that supported my determination. So here we go again; climb that dopamine deficiency research wall and get blown off by supposed medical professionals. When does this insane bullshit ever end? Though I suppose when one paints the larger picture of worldwide street/addiction drug abuse there sits behind it dopamine deficiency problems. And one can be sure the perps are fully aware of this rich research (as they see it) field.
The naturopath also got onto the topic of "not feeling like I am being maligned or singled out for adverse experiences", all without me telling her anything about the ongoing harassment. More ridiculous farce at times. Added to that, she had never heard of paw-paw, my present #1 herbal that seems to be helping to reduce my prostate cancer if PSA numbers can be relied upon.
The perps kept me awake for most of the night last night. As usual, no sleep deprivation effects, a new "feature" since the assholes rounded on me in 04-2002
I see my employer of the last year is changing things up; hiring a full time vineyard manager to run the show and the owners stepping back. Where I fit in is up in the air should the ideal candidate be found. I don't have experience running tractors so I don't count; I am just the manual labor, replaceable by foreign import workers. That is my lot in life since about 2008 when the perps finally allowed me to do farm labor, as who else doesn't care about a six year (perp created) hole in one's resume?
I see my fleece toque (hat) disappeared between here and the sun tanning salon. And what is it about hats that the perps need to attack (hat-attacks)? Since all this harassment started in 04-2002 they constantly move my hat on my head, have it blow off, get knocked off etc. Even the stalker's hats move all by themselves; e.g. slowly slipping down the head of bus passengers for example.
A stop at the convenience store on the way home from the winery. A strange act at the counter, back facing me. A small framed person in blue overalls (same blue as my rain pants that I had been wearing earlier today) with dayglo and reflective strips, a silver fleck motorcycle helmet on and straight blonde hair some 20" below the helmet. In the mind controlled state I took this to be a woman, and lo, once the person turned around, a man. Score another for the perps as they so like to mix male and female imagery and features and have me "get it wrong". Said individual did the loiter at the counter act to slow me up to getting where the Aero bars are, and lo, if he didn't purchase the same item as I did, said the fellow behind the counter. Another copy cat act, this time over a chocolate bar for crissakes. I presume he was the driver of the silver colored motor scooter that was parked outside.
11-23-2016
Wednesday, the last week of this odious winery gig, with the perps threatening to make it worse in some way. More planted confusion, fuckups, misperceptions perhaps. Keeping me in the F of FUD for sure. I have been cleaning the grape processing equipment now for three days, and some more tomorrow.
The New Zealand girl's last day is tomorrow, so perhaps Friday I will be carrying her load and that will be a disaster as she knows her stuff and has been doing so competently for the last 6 weeks. As for me, the perps won't let me run a pump or hook up a hose without fucking up; either the fittings don't fit or I hook up the wrong tank etc. Obviously winery work isn't for me when the perps severely downgrade one's abilities when working at a new winery.
Then this perverse after work vineyard visit; a dingy dusk visit (at 1600h) that then became dark. Then a quasi-tasting in the vineyard office. Some drama added when one of my work colleagues drove off the road to investigate a low oil light problem and hung her car up on a deep ditch edge. Two of the winery staff went out later and pulled her vehicle out of danger with a pickup truck and drove it to where were gathered. I assume someone else gave her a ride to the office, though that part wasn't explained. Anyhow, this apres-work red wine tasting continued in this small room in the vineyard building until 1800h, when I had finished work at 1530h. It wasn't until 1900h until I got home. Nice wine my employer makes though, as it was the first I have tasted.
I suppose in hindsight, the above vineyard visit and drinking of the wine from that same vineyard must of been some kind of energetic testing between the two; that is the soil that grew the grapes and the wine that was made from it. The wine consumption at the very location the harvest party was scheduled two days later for all the vineyard pickers and the winery workers, save me. That is to say, it seems the "vibe" between the soil, grapes (weeks of prior processing and handling), and the derived wine from the 2013 vintage was being tested on me in advance of all the others who were (or are) part of this whole harvest. And at this very location. And I suppose, to attempt to replicate said "vibe" from this nonconsensual subject (me) and detect it in others at the harvest party in two days time. Speculation of course, but as "earth energies" seem to be so important to the perps, vis a vis food and beverages, they appear to want to expand their discoveries about me to a larger cohort, and ultimately, the entire animal population IMHO. As to what the objective is I don't know, but would entertain what others suggest.
11-24-2016
Thursday, my second to last day of work at this winery, and not unexpected as I was hired as a harvest hand, aka, harvest cellar worker. It was expected to be a 6 to 8 week gig, and this is week 8. Why I had to tell the boss man that I was done last week is beyond me, as why didn't he tell me what would be going on since the end of harvest last week is beyond me. (I start a two week gig next week). A harvest party at the above mentioned vineyard office tomorrow, but I won't go. Too far and stuck in the dark in the vineyard with either the French speaking co-workers I know, and the picking crew whom I don't know, just doesn't grab me. And I am feeling disenfranchised all round anyhow, and these early dusk onsets of winter just dull me out and make me want to crawl into bed.
More grape processing equipment cleaning today, then barrel batonnage, the stirring of the lees (sediment) in the barrels with a special tool that has chain on it that disturbs the sediment. Easier said than done, as the barrels are on racks, five high, and getting the tool in from the side when there is another barrel beside and above it without dragging the tool or its chain onto icky surfaces like the barrel racks (paint lifting off the steel) or the ladder (14' platform) takes some doing. And of course, my ever loathsome real-time obstructors make sure the tool hangs up and that it is much more difficult to deal with than otherwise. Plus they screw with my finger control and especially like to freeze my thumb just when I want to use it. All to increase awkwardness and to serve as a ongoing source of infuriation. (Not loudly expressed of course, co-workers and all). The perps went all out after lunch, which fits their normal schedule of pissing me off all the more after food consumption. All those digestion changes to body energy I suppose, not to mention food colors and composition. And of course, the extra and nominal visits by other work colleagues for trivial or silly reasons.
And what is it about working on wine barrels that interests the perps so much? Over the past three weeks they pulled two all-facility fire alarms both within a few minutes of me starting on barrel battonage work.
11-25-2016
Last day at the winery, and the perps had me in fear it was going to be another day of hell, now that the New Zealand girl has gone. It didn't turn out that way thankfully, and they brought in one of the vineyard guys to do winery work. I worked on barrel battonage (stirring the lees) some 12' up a step ladder (five barrels high), then onto open barrel pilage, then power washing in the winery on the tanks which were grimy behind. That took care of the day, and I didn't go to the harvest party afterward and so I had an evening to myself.
That meant getting the laundry done, or so I thought. It was mostly done, save the three items that got white grease marks on them, another perp touch I have come to find.
11-26-2016
Saturday, and a day of incremental fuckery; they were all over me after I cashed my last paycheck today, and then kept it up by heavy gangstalking for the two places I visited afterwards.
They screwed me into a late start in the day, having me get up at 1000h for a 11 hour sleep. I didn't need any more than 8 hours, but someone decided otherwise. This strange pattern of getting up late on weekends just pisses me off as of course by the time I get out and about it is at least 1100h, and every place is choked thick with gangstalking action. I want to do my shopping early or late, and they know that, and do their best to screw me out of that useful habit.
Then to deal with the grease marked clothing; the varsol took three store visits to find. Then getting the varsol smell out became a problem, as it defied a washing machine. Then hand washing the garments with dish detergent, and then rinsing in the sink. Then an ersatz clothesline in the fiberglass shower stall to have them drip dry. Who knows what that was all about, but in the least, it was more variations on their senseless and relentless laundry fuckery. A little late in the year to be hauling fibreglass boats around, but fibreglass covered campers are still about.
And what is it about coordinated email non-responses? On Tuesday I sent two emails to different parties on widely different subjects. One to the doctor that once promised a dopamine test and I wanted to follow up. Another to my daughter to borrow a certain CD from the Vancouver library and bring it over at Christmas where we are to meet in Victoria. (So I can copy the files as Amazon wants over $700 for this CD for crissakes). Both haven't replied in three business days, and now four in the case of my daughter. Or at least, it seems coordinated to me, and all the more when it seems that not even a gnat moves in my proximity without perp authorization. Yes, I know that sounds totally paranoiac, but I didn't come to these conclusions all by myself. And the minute I refuse to believe in this, why, some stunt erupts to then confirm just what I didn't want to believe. Thanks a bunch; I cannot be left alone in my beliefs, or even in belief avoidance.
11-27-2016
Sunday, and a whole day off of doing reading. First a biography of DVR, the Mayor McDougal Street, an entertaining life of living in the Village of NYC in the 1950-1960's. Then today I was allowed to finally read Non-Motor Symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, edited with separate authors for the 31 chapters. Another perp interest is attempting to derive the "vibe" or whatever it is (psychic transference or connection?) from a book, in this case, comparing a single author biography to a multi-author (and) edited book. All getting back to their epistemology objectives, as to where information comes from and is it "tagged" with some kind of quantum information properties they are attempting to remotely detect. All speculation again of course, but they have a considerable interest in where I get my information from and take great pains to elicit this from me at select moments in the select context of where and in association with whom.
[updated this paragraph 06-12-2016]
An idle web browse turned up this PoS from the NY Times, ("United States of Paranoia: They See Gangs of Stalkers", detailing Timothy Trespas' TI travails) by Mike McPhate. (Why didn't they just dust off the 11-12-2008 hit piece, "Sharing their Demons on the Web", by Sarah Kershaw, who interviewed me for an hour?) Objectivity in the mainstream press? Forget it. And if thousands of TI's have similar stories from all walks of life, including practicing medical physicians, how on earth can this be considered delusional? And to insinuate that the internet contributes to the "problem" is preposterous; and they call that journalism for crissakes. It is the shrinks, and amateur shrinks (aka psychologists) and other denial-detritus that they quote, that have the problem, to the extent they should be relegated to the Liar's Club. (Or else they are paid-for shills). And the NY (Some) Times can be assigned as the NY Hit Piece Times as far as I am concerned. Or perhaps more broadly, the NY Status Quo Post. Speaking of which, the 2008 piece has been re-edited as I don't see any reference to me, not by name, but to the experiences I related to the author.
And for the record, two shrinks say I am being harassed, as I do. And furthermore, delusional's stories begin to logically break down and don't make any sense. Not to mention become conflated with other notions of military research, aliens (both possible), NWO, and the larger doomer perspective. (And I refuse to use the "conspiracist" term, misleading in the extreme). I am not trashing these larger perspectives just to be clear, as they may well be correct in the main. All I am saying is that day-day harassment (in all its conventional and unconventional forms), targeted abuse and gangstalking is the reality of TI's. As to who, why, and how it is delivered we do not know, and it is speculation. And of course the NY Times conflates the speculative elements to add a more discrediting flavor to their article (aka hit piece). Stick to objective journalism, and I might buy your rag sometimes.
Saw the naturopath last week over my prostate cancer, and I explained some of my past medical history, but she adroitly cut me off when I was about to explain the 04-2002 apartment invasion by unknown personnel, (and the associated ADD pro-dopaminergic treatment cessation) the opening barrage of this nonstop abuse-athon. Funny how her timing was so impeccable just when the story was getting interesting. Talk about well scripted or well mind controlled (or both).
She said not to worry about dopamine deficiency; here we go again, climbing that wall of adversity of getting treated for dopamine deficiency. Been there, done that, now 4 for the count this time. (Counting as follows; one walk-in clinic GP stared at me when I mentioned a dopamine deficiency, another GP flat out said "I cannot help you" -no discussion, and the urologist avoided any discourse when I mentioned this. AND I find out recently that dopamine deficiency is implicated in bladder and urological problems). Not forgetting during the 1996-2001 depression and dysfunction years, three shrinks and one neurologist (count=4 again) blew me off about not having ADD, a dopamine deficiency problem by definition. And too, I had had done prior homework by studying the clinical text and told them exactly the symptoms I had that supported my determination. So here we go again; climb that dopamine deficiency research wall and get blown off by supposed medical professionals. When does this insane bullshit ever end? Though I suppose when one paints the larger picture of worldwide street/addiction drug abuse there sits behind it dopamine deficiency problems. And one can be sure the perps are fully aware of this rich research (as they see it) field.
The naturopath also got onto the topic of "not feeling like I am being maligned or singled out for adverse experiences", all without me telling her anything about the ongoing harassment. More ridiculous farce at times. Added to that, she had never heard of paw-paw, my present #1 herbal that seems to be helping to reduce my prostate cancer if PSA numbers can be relied upon.
The perps kept me awake for most of the night last night. As usual, no sleep deprivation effects, a new "feature" since the assholes rounded on me in 04-2002
I see my employer of the last year is changing things up; hiring a full time vineyard manager to run the show and the owners stepping back. Where I fit in is up in the air should the ideal candidate be found. I don't have experience running tractors so I don't count; I am just the manual labor, replaceable by foreign import workers. That is my lot in life since about 2008 when the perps finally allowed me to do farm labor, as who else doesn't care about a six year (perp created) hole in one's resume?
I see my fleece toque (hat) disappeared between here and the sun tanning salon. And what is it about hats that the perps need to attack (hat-attacks)? Since all this harassment started in 04-2002 they constantly move my hat on my head, have it blow off, get knocked off etc. Even the stalker's hats move all by themselves; e.g. slowly slipping down the head of bus passengers for example.
A stop at the convenience store on the way home from the winery. A strange act at the counter, back facing me. A small framed person in blue overalls (same blue as my rain pants that I had been wearing earlier today) with dayglo and reflective strips, a silver fleck motorcycle helmet on and straight blonde hair some 20" below the helmet. In the mind controlled state I took this to be a woman, and lo, once the person turned around, a man. Score another for the perps as they so like to mix male and female imagery and features and have me "get it wrong". Said individual did the loiter at the counter act to slow me up to getting where the Aero bars are, and lo, if he didn't purchase the same item as I did, said the fellow behind the counter. Another copy cat act, this time over a chocolate bar for crissakes. I presume he was the driver of the silver colored motor scooter that was parked outside.
11-23-2016
Wednesday, the last week of this odious winery gig, with the perps threatening to make it worse in some way. More planted confusion, fuckups, misperceptions perhaps. Keeping me in the F of FUD for sure. I have been cleaning the grape processing equipment now for three days, and some more tomorrow.
The New Zealand girl's last day is tomorrow, so perhaps Friday I will be carrying her load and that will be a disaster as she knows her stuff and has been doing so competently for the last 6 weeks. As for me, the perps won't let me run a pump or hook up a hose without fucking up; either the fittings don't fit or I hook up the wrong tank etc. Obviously winery work isn't for me when the perps severely downgrade one's abilities when working at a new winery.
Then this perverse after work vineyard visit; a dingy dusk visit (at 1600h) that then became dark. Then a quasi-tasting in the vineyard office. Some drama added when one of my work colleagues drove off the road to investigate a low oil light problem and hung her car up on a deep ditch edge. Two of the winery staff went out later and pulled her vehicle out of danger with a pickup truck and drove it to where were gathered. I assume someone else gave her a ride to the office, though that part wasn't explained. Anyhow, this apres-work red wine tasting continued in this small room in the vineyard building until 1800h, when I had finished work at 1530h. It wasn't until 1900h until I got home. Nice wine my employer makes though, as it was the first I have tasted.
I suppose in hindsight, the above vineyard visit and drinking of the wine from that same vineyard must of been some kind of energetic testing between the two; that is the soil that grew the grapes and the wine that was made from it. The wine consumption at the very location the harvest party was scheduled two days later for all the vineyard pickers and the winery workers, save me. That is to say, it seems the "vibe" between the soil, grapes (weeks of prior processing and handling), and the derived wine from the 2013 vintage was being tested on me in advance of all the others who were (or are) part of this whole harvest. And at this very location. And I suppose, to attempt to replicate said "vibe" from this nonconsensual subject (me) and detect it in others at the harvest party in two days time. Speculation of course, but as "earth energies" seem to be so important to the perps, vis a vis food and beverages, they appear to want to expand their discoveries about me to a larger cohort, and ultimately, the entire animal population IMHO. As to what the objective is I don't know, but would entertain what others suggest.
11-24-2016
Thursday, my second to last day of work at this winery, and not unexpected as I was hired as a harvest hand, aka, harvest cellar worker. It was expected to be a 6 to 8 week gig, and this is week 8. Why I had to tell the boss man that I was done last week is beyond me, as why didn't he tell me what would be going on since the end of harvest last week is beyond me. (I start a two week gig next week). A harvest party at the above mentioned vineyard office tomorrow, but I won't go. Too far and stuck in the dark in the vineyard with either the French speaking co-workers I know, and the picking crew whom I don't know, just doesn't grab me. And I am feeling disenfranchised all round anyhow, and these early dusk onsets of winter just dull me out and make me want to crawl into bed.
More grape processing equipment cleaning today, then barrel batonnage, the stirring of the lees (sediment) in the barrels with a special tool that has chain on it that disturbs the sediment. Easier said than done, as the barrels are on racks, five high, and getting the tool in from the side when there is another barrel beside and above it without dragging the tool or its chain onto icky surfaces like the barrel racks (paint lifting off the steel) or the ladder (14' platform) takes some doing. And of course, my ever loathsome real-time obstructors make sure the tool hangs up and that it is much more difficult to deal with than otherwise. Plus they screw with my finger control and especially like to freeze my thumb just when I want to use it. All to increase awkwardness and to serve as a ongoing source of infuriation. (Not loudly expressed of course, co-workers and all). The perps went all out after lunch, which fits their normal schedule of pissing me off all the more after food consumption. All those digestion changes to body energy I suppose, not to mention food colors and composition. And of course, the extra and nominal visits by other work colleagues for trivial or silly reasons.
And what is it about working on wine barrels that interests the perps so much? Over the past three weeks they pulled two all-facility fire alarms both within a few minutes of me starting on barrel battonage work.
11-25-2016
Last day at the winery, and the perps had me in fear it was going to be another day of hell, now that the New Zealand girl has gone. It didn't turn out that way thankfully, and they brought in one of the vineyard guys to do winery work. I worked on barrel battonage (stirring the lees) some 12' up a step ladder (five barrels high), then onto open barrel pilage, then power washing in the winery on the tanks which were grimy behind. That took care of the day, and I didn't go to the harvest party afterward and so I had an evening to myself.
That meant getting the laundry done, or so I thought. It was mostly done, save the three items that got white grease marks on them, another perp touch I have come to find.
11-26-2016
Saturday, and a day of incremental fuckery; they were all over me after I cashed my last paycheck today, and then kept it up by heavy gangstalking for the two places I visited afterwards.
They screwed me into a late start in the day, having me get up at 1000h for a 11 hour sleep. I didn't need any more than 8 hours, but someone decided otherwise. This strange pattern of getting up late on weekends just pisses me off as of course by the time I get out and about it is at least 1100h, and every place is choked thick with gangstalking action. I want to do my shopping early or late, and they know that, and do their best to screw me out of that useful habit.
Then to deal with the grease marked clothing; the varsol took three store visits to find. Then getting the varsol smell out became a problem, as it defied a washing machine. Then hand washing the garments with dish detergent, and then rinsing in the sink. Then an ersatz clothesline in the fiberglass shower stall to have them drip dry. Who knows what that was all about, but in the least, it was more variations on their senseless and relentless laundry fuckery. A little late in the year to be hauling fibreglass boats around, but fibreglass covered campers are still about.
And what is it about coordinated email non-responses? On Tuesday I sent two emails to different parties on widely different subjects. One to the doctor that once promised a dopamine test and I wanted to follow up. Another to my daughter to borrow a certain CD from the Vancouver library and bring it over at Christmas where we are to meet in Victoria. (So I can copy the files as Amazon wants over $700 for this CD for crissakes). Both haven't replied in three business days, and now four in the case of my daughter. Or at least, it seems coordinated to me, and all the more when it seems that not even a gnat moves in my proximity without perp authorization. Yes, I know that sounds totally paranoiac, but I didn't come to these conclusions all by myself. And the minute I refuse to believe in this, why, some stunt erupts to then confirm just what I didn't want to believe. Thanks a bunch; I cannot be left alone in my beliefs, or even in belief avoidance.
11-27-2016
Sunday, and a whole day off of doing reading. First a biography of DVR, the Mayor McDougal Street, an entertaining life of living in the Village of NYC in the 1950-1960's. Then today I was allowed to finally read Non-Motor Symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, edited with separate authors for the 31 chapters. Another perp interest is attempting to derive the "vibe" or whatever it is (psychic transference or connection?) from a book, in this case, comparing a single author biography to a multi-author (and) edited book. All getting back to their epistemology objectives, as to where information comes from and is it "tagged" with some kind of quantum information properties they are attempting to remotely detect. All speculation again of course, but they have a considerable interest in where I get my information from and take great pains to elicit this from me at select moments in the select context of where and in association with whom.
[updated this paragraph 06-12-2016]
An idle web browse turned up this PoS from the NY Times, ("United States of Paranoia: They See Gangs of Stalkers", detailing Timothy Trespas' TI travails) by Mike McPhate. (Why didn't they just dust off the 11-12-2008 hit piece, "Sharing their Demons on the Web", by Sarah Kershaw, who interviewed me for an hour?) Objectivity in the mainstream press? Forget it. And if thousands of TI's have similar stories from all walks of life, including practicing medical physicians, how on earth can this be considered delusional? And to insinuate that the internet contributes to the "problem" is preposterous; and they call that journalism for crissakes. It is the shrinks, and amateur shrinks (aka psychologists) and other denial-detritus that they quote, that have the problem, to the extent they should be relegated to the Liar's Club. (Or else they are paid-for shills). And the NY (Some) Times can be assigned as the NY Hit Piece Times as far as I am concerned. Or perhaps more broadly, the NY Status Quo Post. Speaking of which, the 2008 piece has been re-edited as I don't see any reference to me, not by name, but to the experiences I related to the author.
And for the record, two shrinks say I am being harassed, as I do. And furthermore, delusional's stories begin to logically break down and don't make any sense. Not to mention become conflated with other notions of military research, aliens (both possible), NWO, and the larger doomer perspective. (And I refuse to use the "conspiracist" term, misleading in the extreme). I am not trashing these larger perspectives just to be clear, as they may well be correct in the main. All I am saying is that day-day harassment (in all its conventional and unconventional forms), targeted abuse and gangstalking is the reality of TI's. As to who, why, and how it is delivered we do not know, and it is speculation. And of course the NY Times conflates the speculative elements to add a more discrediting flavor to their article (aka hit piece). Stick to objective journalism, and I might buy your rag sometimes.
Sunday, May 01, 2016
Cooperage Capers
04-25-2016
What a start to a Monday; the boss man brought in over 200 lightly used wine barrels from California, and us worker schmo's had to unload it. They were stacked three high in a trailer, the kind the tractor/truck pulls on the highway. They hold 59 gallons, and weigh at least 80lb each it seemed. Naturally we didn't need to lift them all that much as they roll on the ground if one picks up one side. Then, like Friday, I placed some on pallets and wrapped them in shrink wrap to be then transported locally. An energetic start to the week to be sure. Again, the theme of wood, wine and shrink wrap comes up again.
And to complement this morning's work, the perps had me "forget" to take my testosterone last night, my usual timing for the week. So, reminding me this morning, I took it just before setting off to work. No doubt this timing played into the perp's research agenda, following it with above mentioned barrel slinging within 30 min. of taking it. Again, I have no idea why the perps are so fussed about testosterone, and other neurotransmitters, but as always, they have a plan timed to the microsecond.
The weekly yoga stalk had an all time best of three other males and nothing much to look at on the female front. The frumpy persistent stalker of late moved in beside me on my L, and the hopeless E. Indian woman returned to my R side for a second week. This is advanced yoga, aka Power Yoga, and it does surprise me that such inexperienced folk somehow "find" this class.
As often, like most others in the class, I get hands on pose correction from the instructor. This time she was on me to correct my shoulder alignment and finished running her hand down my spine.I cannot possibly imagine how the latter contact is of any corrective yogic benefit.
04-27-2016
Skipped a day as this here back-up PC (since 02-2016) "needed" a graphics card. I was happy with the VGA off the motherboard, but someone else wasn't and planted the urge to get a small graphics card with DVI and HDMI output. I don't see much difference in the graphics as I am not a gamer type, but the PC has a little more snap to it. As always, electronic circuits, wires and wire color and even wire bundling materials are of intense perp interest.
04-28-2016
A day of de-suckering (called "suckering" in the business for perverse reasons), vines in the vineyard, me and two other male co-workers. (The "suckers" are the shoots emanating from the trunk region of the vine). Last year I got a female high school student to help the job get done quickly, but whatever.
The perps are decidedly bringing in more male-ness into everything I do, or go for that matter. The male gut strut in the specialty grocery store last evening was positively disgusting. I would look away and another would show up within my vision inside of two seconds. I would look away again and lo, if the first one hadn't changed direction to then appear again when averting my gaze from the second gut-strutter. Add in a chinless gut strutter and the whole thing gets even more unsightly. The next option would be to have a bald, chinless male gut strutter. It never ends. Today's male co-workers were without guts thankfully, and had chins too. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, should my highly managed and controlled state ever permit such a genuine notion.
04-29-2016
A day of handling deep black bark mulch colored with some petroleum product. I would take the p.u. truck to get a load (1.5 cubic yards) and take it to the vineyard site and with the help of my co-worker, spread it on top of the extant landscape bark mulch in varying degrees of thickness. At one point the boss lady came out to ream my ass for laying it on too thick, but as I had been minimizing the spreading thickness all along, I saw it as another exercise of pillorying the victim (me). Even my co-worker agreed, stating the episode was insulting. Food for more angst therapy. Though he did make a valid point of working in a (toxic) environment when one is under constant fear of screwing up, even if one is earnest, effort-full and doing the best job possible. I agreed, it was one of those incremental toxic build up situations which I had not truly cognitively processed. Much more could be written, but I will leave it at that for now.
This was the second day this week of this task, and hopefully the last of it for the year. I don't know why the perps are so fussed about trees, wood and any other tree products and by-products (e.g. clippings etc.), but they are. Otherwise, they would not of managed me to be a forester; my degree, and my profession. Now busted down to farm worker thanks to their insane and deranged non-consensual human research imperative.
I made three trips into town to get the bark mulch, the first one with an added fueling trip. And lo, the fuel card didn't work and so I had to take it into the office to get the card up-dated. The office folks were nice, and even conversational, not the usual head-down collusional atmosphere. The topic was last week's delivery truck (of six pallet loads) that was hit and flipped on its side, an amazing event mentioned in last week's blog.
And I was vehicularly stalked up the asshole, making the three trips to get a load of bark mulch. Vehicle trains some 10 to 15 long to prevent L hand turns, unheard of vehicular density in a town of 35k population, long before tourist season.
04-30-2015
Saturday; normally I would work but as my bowel ructions continued this week, and the test results of 1.5 weeks ago are done, I went to see the drop-in doctor. A mistake; it wasn't the same one who initiated the tests, whom I saw two weeks ago, and he was clued out on what was transpiring. In fact, I don't think he could see the results of 1.5 weeks ago, even if I did online. This was the same doctor of two months ago, who weirded me out three times in one visit, recorded in this blog, though I am too lazy to find the link right now. Sooo... more blood draws, and to top off the inanity, a future body CT scan of my organs. Ridiculous that I am put through this idiocy when the Keepers of the Fourth Reich can punish anyone at will with any affliction at all, at whim. Which is what they appear to do with me, though with a bias to simulating conventional medical conditions, whatever they may be. Read on.
The wait in the doctor's office is often a freak show, and there was an element of that for sure. The E. Indians (from India) were there, the turban act moving in later. And for some reason the unturbaned E. Indian moved next to the turbaned one after 15 minutes, as seen through the glass. I thought it most curious that these two cats would find each other, as the waiting room has a disjointed configuration. But as the Psychopaths have been heavy on turbans of late, why not?
Then the male gut strut too; a 240lb mofo sat next to me, followed by heavy use on his smart phone, and often raising his arm next to me for whatever reason. The disgusting gut was bad enough, but hair down to his shoulders added that extra element of despicability. If I don't like the sight of fat people, recessed chins, unkempt male hair, etc. I don't see why some sick-assed international Psychopathic organization needs to hound me with these motifs/freaks everywhere I go, and online too, now for over 14 years. Aka, the Unfavored Features, of which there are many more.
The perps let me get a tan in the backyard today, most civil of them. Though as always, it was replete with HD motorcycle noise, overhead aircraft noise and the ubiquitous hot-rod muffler noise, though mostly more distant. Had I been listening to music at the same time one can be sure they would of brought the ambient noise level up to pound it through the headphones. Been there, done that.
Today's discouragement over the useless doctor's appointment prompted a look at dopamine on Wikipedia, that wayward site that pulled "gangstalking" from their topics list a few years ago. Disparage them I might, but I learned a whole lot on the topic, from retinal, digestive tract (current hassle) and that there are blood tests for it for crissakes. Much more to follow it seems, if only I can get a doctor to move his/her ass. So far, when I expouse my dopamine deficiency theory to the seeming medical professionals, I get stares, blow-offs and a more direct, "I can't help you".
Back in 1997-2000, after reading the clinical text on Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and visiting three shrinks and one neurologist, they all blew me off. (Not a coincidence in hindsight, as things turned out after 04-2002). Finally, I got a SPECT scan and lo, I was absolutely right, ADD-Inattentive subtype. That equals dopamine deficiency, no contest, and it became my trump card for all the clinical abuse that followed. And the stimulant medication was a stunning success at first, though the effects did taper off some after a year. Except then the perps mugged me, starting overt harassment in 04-2002, and it seems the big imperative was to strip me of my beneficial medication (and positive dopaminergic effects) to then substitute medications that stripped me of dopamine. I will never forgive the fucking assholes for all of that. And here I am, 14 years later, getting various symptoms that suggest the dopamine fuckover follies are far from done. Thanks a bunch; another dopamine deficiency treatment wall to climb.
05-01-2016
Sunday, and I worked for my former full time employer to clean up the wreckage from his bottling yesterday. It looks like at least 8 pallet loads, about 12,000L of wine. I was glad to see that he did not use those former flaxseed oil totes (1000L each) that I cleaned all day about three weeks ago. They smelled even after being cleaned all day. Instead, he used a huge, say 8'x16', bladder and blended the wine into it. Today, it was collapsed mostly, so I don't know how high it was, but it was a whole lot of wine. Now, he must create covered storage for it.
The perps were busy pulling items from my grasp all day today, infuriating me no end. And ramping up this particular abuse when the boss man was around. Competence is not allowed in the perp mindset.
Then when doing an assembly line-like task, filling kegs three at a time, everything was working out OK, and they let me be reasonably competent for about the first half of the activity, two hours or so. Then they started scrambling me and making me forget at what stage each keg was in the filling process. Never, ever, until this insane reign of targeted abuse did I have a problem of becoming less adequate while doing a task.
Enough for the week, time to get this posted.
What a start to a Monday; the boss man brought in over 200 lightly used wine barrels from California, and us worker schmo's had to unload it. They were stacked three high in a trailer, the kind the tractor/truck pulls on the highway. They hold 59 gallons, and weigh at least 80lb each it seemed. Naturally we didn't need to lift them all that much as they roll on the ground if one picks up one side. Then, like Friday, I placed some on pallets and wrapped them in shrink wrap to be then transported locally. An energetic start to the week to be sure. Again, the theme of wood, wine and shrink wrap comes up again.
And to complement this morning's work, the perps had me "forget" to take my testosterone last night, my usual timing for the week. So, reminding me this morning, I took it just before setting off to work. No doubt this timing played into the perp's research agenda, following it with above mentioned barrel slinging within 30 min. of taking it. Again, I have no idea why the perps are so fussed about testosterone, and other neurotransmitters, but as always, they have a plan timed to the microsecond.
The weekly yoga stalk had an all time best of three other males and nothing much to look at on the female front. The frumpy persistent stalker of late moved in beside me on my L, and the hopeless E. Indian woman returned to my R side for a second week. This is advanced yoga, aka Power Yoga, and it does surprise me that such inexperienced folk somehow "find" this class.
As often, like most others in the class, I get hands on pose correction from the instructor. This time she was on me to correct my shoulder alignment and finished running her hand down my spine.I cannot possibly imagine how the latter contact is of any corrective yogic benefit.
04-27-2016
Skipped a day as this here back-up PC (since 02-2016) "needed" a graphics card. I was happy with the VGA off the motherboard, but someone else wasn't and planted the urge to get a small graphics card with DVI and HDMI output. I don't see much difference in the graphics as I am not a gamer type, but the PC has a little more snap to it. As always, electronic circuits, wires and wire color and even wire bundling materials are of intense perp interest.
04-28-2016
A day of de-suckering (called "suckering" in the business for perverse reasons), vines in the vineyard, me and two other male co-workers. (The "suckers" are the shoots emanating from the trunk region of the vine). Last year I got a female high school student to help the job get done quickly, but whatever.
The perps are decidedly bringing in more male-ness into everything I do, or go for that matter. The male gut strut in the specialty grocery store last evening was positively disgusting. I would look away and another would show up within my vision inside of two seconds. I would look away again and lo, if the first one hadn't changed direction to then appear again when averting my gaze from the second gut-strutter. Add in a chinless gut strutter and the whole thing gets even more unsightly. The next option would be to have a bald, chinless male gut strutter. It never ends. Today's male co-workers were without guts thankfully, and had chins too. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, should my highly managed and controlled state ever permit such a genuine notion.
04-29-2016
A day of handling deep black bark mulch colored with some petroleum product. I would take the p.u. truck to get a load (1.5 cubic yards) and take it to the vineyard site and with the help of my co-worker, spread it on top of the extant landscape bark mulch in varying degrees of thickness. At one point the boss lady came out to ream my ass for laying it on too thick, but as I had been minimizing the spreading thickness all along, I saw it as another exercise of pillorying the victim (me). Even my co-worker agreed, stating the episode was insulting. Food for more angst therapy. Though he did make a valid point of working in a (toxic) environment when one is under constant fear of screwing up, even if one is earnest, effort-full and doing the best job possible. I agreed, it was one of those incremental toxic build up situations which I had not truly cognitively processed. Much more could be written, but I will leave it at that for now.
This was the second day this week of this task, and hopefully the last of it for the year. I don't know why the perps are so fussed about trees, wood and any other tree products and by-products (e.g. clippings etc.), but they are. Otherwise, they would not of managed me to be a forester; my degree, and my profession. Now busted down to farm worker thanks to their insane and deranged non-consensual human research imperative.
I made three trips into town to get the bark mulch, the first one with an added fueling trip. And lo, the fuel card didn't work and so I had to take it into the office to get the card up-dated. The office folks were nice, and even conversational, not the usual head-down collusional atmosphere. The topic was last week's delivery truck (of six pallet loads) that was hit and flipped on its side, an amazing event mentioned in last week's blog.
And I was vehicularly stalked up the asshole, making the three trips to get a load of bark mulch. Vehicle trains some 10 to 15 long to prevent L hand turns, unheard of vehicular density in a town of 35k population, long before tourist season.
04-30-2015
Saturday; normally I would work but as my bowel ructions continued this week, and the test results of 1.5 weeks ago are done, I went to see the drop-in doctor. A mistake; it wasn't the same one who initiated the tests, whom I saw two weeks ago, and he was clued out on what was transpiring. In fact, I don't think he could see the results of 1.5 weeks ago, even if I did online. This was the same doctor of two months ago, who weirded me out three times in one visit, recorded in this blog, though I am too lazy to find the link right now. Sooo... more blood draws, and to top off the inanity, a future body CT scan of my organs. Ridiculous that I am put through this idiocy when the Keepers of the Fourth Reich can punish anyone at will with any affliction at all, at whim. Which is what they appear to do with me, though with a bias to simulating conventional medical conditions, whatever they may be. Read on.
The wait in the doctor's office is often a freak show, and there was an element of that for sure. The E. Indians (from India) were there, the turban act moving in later. And for some reason the unturbaned E. Indian moved next to the turbaned one after 15 minutes, as seen through the glass. I thought it most curious that these two cats would find each other, as the waiting room has a disjointed configuration. But as the Psychopaths have been heavy on turbans of late, why not?
Then the male gut strut too; a 240lb mofo sat next to me, followed by heavy use on his smart phone, and often raising his arm next to me for whatever reason. The disgusting gut was bad enough, but hair down to his shoulders added that extra element of despicability. If I don't like the sight of fat people, recessed chins, unkempt male hair, etc. I don't see why some sick-assed international Psychopathic organization needs to hound me with these motifs/freaks everywhere I go, and online too, now for over 14 years. Aka, the Unfavored Features, of which there are many more.
The perps let me get a tan in the backyard today, most civil of them. Though as always, it was replete with HD motorcycle noise, overhead aircraft noise and the ubiquitous hot-rod muffler noise, though mostly more distant. Had I been listening to music at the same time one can be sure they would of brought the ambient noise level up to pound it through the headphones. Been there, done that.
Today's discouragement over the useless doctor's appointment prompted a look at dopamine on Wikipedia, that wayward site that pulled "gangstalking" from their topics list a few years ago. Disparage them I might, but I learned a whole lot on the topic, from retinal, digestive tract (current hassle) and that there are blood tests for it for crissakes. Much more to follow it seems, if only I can get a doctor to move his/her ass. So far, when I expouse my dopamine deficiency theory to the seeming medical professionals, I get stares, blow-offs and a more direct, "I can't help you".
Back in 1997-2000, after reading the clinical text on Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and visiting three shrinks and one neurologist, they all blew me off. (Not a coincidence in hindsight, as things turned out after 04-2002). Finally, I got a SPECT scan and lo, I was absolutely right, ADD-Inattentive subtype. That equals dopamine deficiency, no contest, and it became my trump card for all the clinical abuse that followed. And the stimulant medication was a stunning success at first, though the effects did taper off some after a year. Except then the perps mugged me, starting overt harassment in 04-2002, and it seems the big imperative was to strip me of my beneficial medication (and positive dopaminergic effects) to then substitute medications that stripped me of dopamine. I will never forgive the fucking assholes for all of that. And here I am, 14 years later, getting various symptoms that suggest the dopamine fuckover follies are far from done. Thanks a bunch; another dopamine deficiency treatment wall to climb.
05-01-2016
Sunday, and I worked for my former full time employer to clean up the wreckage from his bottling yesterday. It looks like at least 8 pallet loads, about 12,000L of wine. I was glad to see that he did not use those former flaxseed oil totes (1000L each) that I cleaned all day about three weeks ago. They smelled even after being cleaned all day. Instead, he used a huge, say 8'x16', bladder and blended the wine into it. Today, it was collapsed mostly, so I don't know how high it was, but it was a whole lot of wine. Now, he must create covered storage for it.
The perps were busy pulling items from my grasp all day today, infuriating me no end. And ramping up this particular abuse when the boss man was around. Competence is not allowed in the perp mindset.
Then when doing an assembly line-like task, filling kegs three at a time, everything was working out OK, and they let me be reasonably competent for about the first half of the activity, two hours or so. Then they started scrambling me and making me forget at what stage each keg was in the filling process. Never, ever, until this insane reign of targeted abuse did I have a problem of becoming less adequate while doing a task.
Enough for the week, time to get this posted.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
The Ether-verse; aka the Electric Sky
04-18-2016
I finished reading one of the most profound science books ever, "The Electric Sky; a Challenge to the Myths of Modern Astronomy" by Donald E. Scott. More like a "Excoriating Treatise Of the Ossified Status Quo of Science" (primarily astrophysics and cosmology). The Big Bang, General Relativity, black holes, string theory, dark matter and the expanding universe concepts and theories are roundly trounced and deservedly cast into the ditch of pseudoscience. Worse yet, the scientific establishment doesn't want to hear about it and invokes excuses to remain in unobjective denial mode. (Another link on the plasma universe is here).
The author provides an example of the RC cardinals of the day of Galileo; the cardinals happily looked through the telescope by day to view the landscape, but would not do so at the night sky as they didn't want to bring on inquiry that the Earth centric universe model was fundamentally flawed. The more I read about the RC church the more I come to the conclusion they are nothing but sandbags of human progress, technically and socially.
The upshot fo the book is that we live in an electric plasma universe (per author, plasmaverse), or the omniplasma continuum as TT Brown called it, and not only is the sun powered by these forces, but they are the real reason for planets, suns, stars and all cosmological events. The aurora borealis (northern lights) are just a warm up cookie. The present state of unbending astronomy-think is that gravitaic forces are responsible for all what we seen in the universe. Wrong, big time; electric (plasmic) forces are 36 orders of magnitude stronger. Electric and magnetic forces have been recorded on every space probe that have the instruments to record this data, all the way back to Voyageur 1 (1977, now over 2 billion miles traveled).
A very readable book, save two chapters on detailed star interactions, (for me, always hampered by some kind of cognitive problems when the details get technical) and worth it for the chapters on scientific method and the history of electric field theory and the scientific myth busting.
In other words, there is a universal ether and we are all connected by it, all the way to whatever star you want to name and whatever other life forms are out there. Something to think about, and all the more vital when one considers that the perps know and exploit this all the time. Anyhow, I don't want to lay on too many scientific tangents in this here blog, but will post relevant pages and references in the Pages section.
04-19-2016
An eventful day to say the least. I was in the vineyard at 0930h and I got a call about a "situation". So I returned to where the boss was, and learned that the delivery truck of wine had overturned on the street, but the driver, whom I knew personally, was OK. I was to join the co-worker and boss man to help clean up. When I got there, the 10 tonne flat deck truck was flipped over on the street and the traffic re-direction personnel were in place, and two fire trucks were on hand. The mission was to recover cases of wine from the tipped load, and put them onto the pallets we brought. And that we did, and the final act of a completing a pallet load of wine is to wrap it up in shrink wrap, which I did. And so, here was I, with my two co-workers, and two others packing and loading pallets of cases of wine in the middle of the street. And it "so happens" that I was packing pallets of wine earlier this week (on concrete surfaces in the winery), and partially last week. And if one wants to accept this existence of arranged coincidences, especially the perp's preoccupation with shrink wrap, the whole thing was an utter set up. And too, the perps emo-trashed me, making me feel much more emotionally wrought than I would be otherwise over this event, during and after.
And of course the RCMP were there, as was the aforementioned fire department with two trucks. The former were keeping pedestrians from stopping and looking and making sure they were walked on.
As part of the deal I was also on taxi duty; I ended driving a co-worker to the forklift rental depot, and later, the boss man and the truck driver back to the winery.
As it "happened", one of the owner's vehicles was forgotten down at the accident site, and as I "happened" to have a medical appointment in the afternoon, I drove a co-worker down to the accident site which was now all cleaned up.
And so to the doctor's appointment, this being the prostrate guy, the ass-poke specialist, supposedly a urologist, who jerked me around over the urinary urgency problem that erupted last year. (Now solved with a medication from the drop-in doctor for crissakes). An lo, if the PSA number isn't up to 5.9, from 5.1. That now begets more complications as he wants a biopsy done, and of course, a follow-up appointment. Thanks a bunch; none of this should never of happened IMHO as I am taking testosterone since 08-2015 which is prostate protective. More ass play games as I see it. And to add insult to injury, I "forgot" to roast HIS ass over last year's kiss off when he (a urologist) sent me to the GP for a urology problem. And when I mentioned the Rx to the ass-poke specialist, why, he didn't even ask why I might be taking it. He didn't want to know. Criminal doctor behavior again IMHO.
Then a blood test to follow for more testing for the drop-in doctor's concerns, though it isn't clear to me what they are all about. He blew me off again about addressing my iron deficiency, and of course, what hangs over it is a dopamine deficiency.
04-20-2016
No wonder they shifted my ass poke appointment two days ahead of time about two months ago so all of the above could be timed together.
A busy day, in part in dealing with cleaning up after yesterday's spilled wine cases. Some had gasoline or detergent on them, others just had the cardboard rumpled or shredded. As it seems, little or no wine was actually lost; that is 6 pallet loads x 56 cases/pallet load x 12 bottles/case = 4,032 bottles of wine, and so far, we think that less than 20 bottles were broken, though we haven't found them. Three cases have a strong gasoline smell to them, and they may get tossed, but no broken bottles. Mind you, there were plywood covers on the sides and they covered the top of the load, which became sideways when the truck was tipped over. Had they not been there, the cases would of flew sideways down the street, perhaps 40' or more. Then there would of been broken glass with wine in the streets.
More shrink wrapping work in the afternoon; 15 pallets of wine barrels, three per pallet, had to be re-bunged, wrapped and cinched to the pallet. Cannot the perps get enough of me with wine, wood and shrink wrap contact?
04-21-2016
Inside work shifting wine cases, then garbage duty, taking a load to the dump (refuse), plus visiting the recycling to drop off cardboard. The latter in keeping with the perps' insane preoccupation over garbage of all stripes. Then lawn mowing, weed eating, then vineyard work. A varied day for sure
04-23-2016
Saturday, and I work at the casual labor vineyard employer. This was the first time in three weeks, and per last time, they took me off the payroll. Now I had to sign up again. I signed up last year, I signed up again at the beginning of this year, and now again. I have no idea why this stupid stuff goes down all too often.
I worked with the Mexicans today; no other locals and no Punjabis excepting the foreman. Minimal instruction for the afternoon's irrigation line maintenance job got me minor rebuke. Another WTF moment; all the Mexicans seemed to know what to do, except me.
And for some reason I was tired on the drive back; no seeming reason as the work wasn't intense, the temperature was warm and not hot, and no sleep deficit. This time the perps had the relative decency of putting on their eye stinging attacks before I drove off, and not on the highway which is their usual timing. And too, I was allowed to have the eye relief drops in my glove box this time, instead of suffering 20 min. or more of this wretched assault method.
Saturday evening, and the usual laundry, always of intense perp interest. They put on the winsome babe again, a high school friend of the owner's daughter. (The family hangs out and helps with the laundry there). The perps sure know what I find attractive, feature by feature, and for the record, breasts aren't it.
This time she was limping from an injury of some kind, as she had a plastic cast on one ankle. And what is it about the perps and their need to whack legs and ankles of late? They plainly nailed me with sprained ankle four weeks ago (and strangely accelerated the healing), and then whacked a work colleague with some kind of infection on his leg a week later. At the vineyard owners, a family member got hit with a major ski injury to her leg in February, and she is limping along and will need surgery in May. Do all these perp abettors sign up for this or what? Surely they would know who did it as there are no coincidences or accidents anywhere in my proximity.
04-24-2016
Sunday, and the perps pulled another Immodium moment this morning. Like WTF; the last time it was attributable to fruit juice intake and since I dropped that possibility, why, they didn't need an excuse, they make it happen. Random cow pies in the toilet indeed.
And what is the perp's obsession over file copying, re-naming, and all other computer based file handling activities? The even put on the loathsome HD noise from outside, and a few minutes later even added hot-rod muffle noise outside while doing this. And too, infuriated me with forced keyboard blunders and mis-naming, (and other mental dithering) missing files from my ones to correct.etc. All this while performing music file maintenance activities as they need to be unzipped, unpacked from a single flac file into song files, edited in part and then renamed in keeping with my own standard.
And it seemed to be important for the perps to have me download flac files from a single particular online source, and then for one album, redirect me to get the files from CDbaby. In other words, for this nine album sudden "need", eight were from one source, and the ninth had to be from elsewhere. What is so important to the perps about that?
A hike today, after this morning's suckdown at this here PC, per digital file manipulations above. The perps just drive me crazy over getting out the door for a hike. All my hiking was begun before1000h, and now they divert me until 1200h or later, (1300h today before I set off), to then start. I absolutely loathe late day hiking starts, and here the assholes routinely hack my day so this occurs.
On my return route I stopped at the a ATM and there was an elder stalker loitering there and just finishing up. He finally exits and I attempt to put my card in and the ATM won't take it. After several attempts the ATM tells me it is temporarily unavailable. Masterful inconvenient timing if nothing else.
And to greet my arrival on the way back, besides the plethora of vehicular gangstalking and clusterfucking at intersections, they parked a monster truck halfway into the public road just where I turn to drive down the alley to my residence, and just before that, why, a HD motorcycle pops out pushed by the lug-head (unpowered) across the street where he presumably resides. Adroitly timed for my slow speed at that moment, as if I had been traveling at normal road traffic speed (50kph) he would of been road pizza. And it is not like he looked ahead of time, so who gave him the instruction as to when to time his road crossing stunt? Like WTF, for the last three weeks he sets up shop with his pals across from me in the back alley, but now, it is on the other side of the house and street, his new noise and social hangout. The house is nothing but a perp center as far as I can tell.
I finished reading one of the most profound science books ever, "The Electric Sky; a Challenge to the Myths of Modern Astronomy" by Donald E. Scott. More like a "Excoriating Treatise Of the Ossified Status Quo of Science" (primarily astrophysics and cosmology). The Big Bang, General Relativity, black holes, string theory, dark matter and the expanding universe concepts and theories are roundly trounced and deservedly cast into the ditch of pseudoscience. Worse yet, the scientific establishment doesn't want to hear about it and invokes excuses to remain in unobjective denial mode. (Another link on the plasma universe is here).
The author provides an example of the RC cardinals of the day of Galileo; the cardinals happily looked through the telescope by day to view the landscape, but would not do so at the night sky as they didn't want to bring on inquiry that the Earth centric universe model was fundamentally flawed. The more I read about the RC church the more I come to the conclusion they are nothing but sandbags of human progress, technically and socially.
The upshot fo the book is that we live in an electric plasma universe (per author, plasmaverse), or the omniplasma continuum as TT Brown called it, and not only is the sun powered by these forces, but they are the real reason for planets, suns, stars and all cosmological events. The aurora borealis (northern lights) are just a warm up cookie. The present state of unbending astronomy-think is that gravitaic forces are responsible for all what we seen in the universe. Wrong, big time; electric (plasmic) forces are 36 orders of magnitude stronger. Electric and magnetic forces have been recorded on every space probe that have the instruments to record this data, all the way back to Voyageur 1 (1977, now over 2 billion miles traveled).
A very readable book, save two chapters on detailed star interactions, (for me, always hampered by some kind of cognitive problems when the details get technical) and worth it for the chapters on scientific method and the history of electric field theory and the scientific myth busting.
In other words, there is a universal ether and we are all connected by it, all the way to whatever star you want to name and whatever other life forms are out there. Something to think about, and all the more vital when one considers that the perps know and exploit this all the time. Anyhow, I don't want to lay on too many scientific tangents in this here blog, but will post relevant pages and references in the Pages section.
04-19-2016
An eventful day to say the least. I was in the vineyard at 0930h and I got a call about a "situation". So I returned to where the boss was, and learned that the delivery truck of wine had overturned on the street, but the driver, whom I knew personally, was OK. I was to join the co-worker and boss man to help clean up. When I got there, the 10 tonne flat deck truck was flipped over on the street and the traffic re-direction personnel were in place, and two fire trucks were on hand. The mission was to recover cases of wine from the tipped load, and put them onto the pallets we brought. And that we did, and the final act of a completing a pallet load of wine is to wrap it up in shrink wrap, which I did. And so, here was I, with my two co-workers, and two others packing and loading pallets of cases of wine in the middle of the street. And it "so happens" that I was packing pallets of wine earlier this week (on concrete surfaces in the winery), and partially last week. And if one wants to accept this existence of arranged coincidences, especially the perp's preoccupation with shrink wrap, the whole thing was an utter set up. And too, the perps emo-trashed me, making me feel much more emotionally wrought than I would be otherwise over this event, during and after.
And of course the RCMP were there, as was the aforementioned fire department with two trucks. The former were keeping pedestrians from stopping and looking and making sure they were walked on.
As part of the deal I was also on taxi duty; I ended driving a co-worker to the forklift rental depot, and later, the boss man and the truck driver back to the winery.
As it "happened", one of the owner's vehicles was forgotten down at the accident site, and as I "happened" to have a medical appointment in the afternoon, I drove a co-worker down to the accident site which was now all cleaned up.
And so to the doctor's appointment, this being the prostrate guy, the ass-poke specialist, supposedly a urologist, who jerked me around over the urinary urgency problem that erupted last year. (Now solved with a medication from the drop-in doctor for crissakes). An lo, if the PSA number isn't up to 5.9, from 5.1. That now begets more complications as he wants a biopsy done, and of course, a follow-up appointment. Thanks a bunch; none of this should never of happened IMHO as I am taking testosterone since 08-2015 which is prostate protective. More ass play games as I see it. And to add insult to injury, I "forgot" to roast HIS ass over last year's kiss off when he (a urologist) sent me to the GP for a urology problem. And when I mentioned the Rx to the ass-poke specialist, why, he didn't even ask why I might be taking it. He didn't want to know. Criminal doctor behavior again IMHO.
Then a blood test to follow for more testing for the drop-in doctor's concerns, though it isn't clear to me what they are all about. He blew me off again about addressing my iron deficiency, and of course, what hangs over it is a dopamine deficiency.
04-20-2016
No wonder they shifted my ass poke appointment two days ahead of time about two months ago so all of the above could be timed together.
A busy day, in part in dealing with cleaning up after yesterday's spilled wine cases. Some had gasoline or detergent on them, others just had the cardboard rumpled or shredded. As it seems, little or no wine was actually lost; that is 6 pallet loads x 56 cases/pallet load x 12 bottles/case = 4,032 bottles of wine, and so far, we think that less than 20 bottles were broken, though we haven't found them. Three cases have a strong gasoline smell to them, and they may get tossed, but no broken bottles. Mind you, there were plywood covers on the sides and they covered the top of the load, which became sideways when the truck was tipped over. Had they not been there, the cases would of flew sideways down the street, perhaps 40' or more. Then there would of been broken glass with wine in the streets.
More shrink wrapping work in the afternoon; 15 pallets of wine barrels, three per pallet, had to be re-bunged, wrapped and cinched to the pallet. Cannot the perps get enough of me with wine, wood and shrink wrap contact?
04-21-2016
Inside work shifting wine cases, then garbage duty, taking a load to the dump (refuse), plus visiting the recycling to drop off cardboard. The latter in keeping with the perps' insane preoccupation over garbage of all stripes. Then lawn mowing, weed eating, then vineyard work. A varied day for sure
04-23-2016
Saturday, and I work at the casual labor vineyard employer. This was the first time in three weeks, and per last time, they took me off the payroll. Now I had to sign up again. I signed up last year, I signed up again at the beginning of this year, and now again. I have no idea why this stupid stuff goes down all too often.
I worked with the Mexicans today; no other locals and no Punjabis excepting the foreman. Minimal instruction for the afternoon's irrigation line maintenance job got me minor rebuke. Another WTF moment; all the Mexicans seemed to know what to do, except me.
And for some reason I was tired on the drive back; no seeming reason as the work wasn't intense, the temperature was warm and not hot, and no sleep deficit. This time the perps had the relative decency of putting on their eye stinging attacks before I drove off, and not on the highway which is their usual timing. And too, I was allowed to have the eye relief drops in my glove box this time, instead of suffering 20 min. or more of this wretched assault method.
Saturday evening, and the usual laundry, always of intense perp interest. They put on the winsome babe again, a high school friend of the owner's daughter. (The family hangs out and helps with the laundry there). The perps sure know what I find attractive, feature by feature, and for the record, breasts aren't it.
This time she was limping from an injury of some kind, as she had a plastic cast on one ankle. And what is it about the perps and their need to whack legs and ankles of late? They plainly nailed me with sprained ankle four weeks ago (and strangely accelerated the healing), and then whacked a work colleague with some kind of infection on his leg a week later. At the vineyard owners, a family member got hit with a major ski injury to her leg in February, and she is limping along and will need surgery in May. Do all these perp abettors sign up for this or what? Surely they would know who did it as there are no coincidences or accidents anywhere in my proximity.
04-24-2016
Sunday, and the perps pulled another Immodium moment this morning. Like WTF; the last time it was attributable to fruit juice intake and since I dropped that possibility, why, they didn't need an excuse, they make it happen. Random cow pies in the toilet indeed.
And what is the perp's obsession over file copying, re-naming, and all other computer based file handling activities? The even put on the loathsome HD noise from outside, and a few minutes later even added hot-rod muffle noise outside while doing this. And too, infuriated me with forced keyboard blunders and mis-naming, (and other mental dithering) missing files from my ones to correct.etc. All this while performing music file maintenance activities as they need to be unzipped, unpacked from a single flac file into song files, edited in part and then renamed in keeping with my own standard.
And it seemed to be important for the perps to have me download flac files from a single particular online source, and then for one album, redirect me to get the files from CDbaby. In other words, for this nine album sudden "need", eight were from one source, and the ninth had to be from elsewhere. What is so important to the perps about that?
A hike today, after this morning's suckdown at this here PC, per digital file manipulations above. The perps just drive me crazy over getting out the door for a hike. All my hiking was begun before1000h, and now they divert me until 1200h or later, (1300h today before I set off), to then start. I absolutely loathe late day hiking starts, and here the assholes routinely hack my day so this occurs.
On my return route I stopped at the a ATM and there was an elder stalker loitering there and just finishing up. He finally exits and I attempt to put my card in and the ATM won't take it. After several attempts the ATM tells me it is temporarily unavailable. Masterful inconvenient timing if nothing else.
And to greet my arrival on the way back, besides the plethora of vehicular gangstalking and clusterfucking at intersections, they parked a monster truck halfway into the public road just where I turn to drive down the alley to my residence, and just before that, why, a HD motorcycle pops out pushed by the lug-head (unpowered) across the street where he presumably resides. Adroitly timed for my slow speed at that moment, as if I had been traveling at normal road traffic speed (50kph) he would of been road pizza. And it is not like he looked ahead of time, so who gave him the instruction as to when to time his road crossing stunt? Like WTF, for the last three weeks he sets up shop with his pals across from me in the back alley, but now, it is on the other side of the house and street, his new noise and social hangout. The house is nothing but a perp center as far as I can tell.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Back to Blogging and the Rest of the Online World
02-13-2016
I had to purchase a refurbished PC to get this posting up. My regular PC has been in the shop for seven weeks and counting. I cannot believe that a simple RAID 1 job (duplicate hard drives) would take this long. And so as it "happens", I purchased this PC which is a near identical model to the one I purchased for my mother at the First Feral Family house as she hadn't updated hers for Windows XP, and so it was cheaper by far to purchase a refurbished one that came with Windows 7 pre-loaded.
But as it "happened", as soon as I got my perp-abetting mother's (new, refurbished) PC up and running, why, I could not access my blog, TI World (this one). I do appreciate that the whole Google/Blogspot empire runs on server farms somewhere, but why on earth would a new desktop PC have anything to do with accessing my blogs? I could log into my Blogspot account just fine, and then I would click on the "Blogs" button and it would not work in any way, no matter how often I tried it. Hence my online blogging access being in hiatus for the last month. Or perhaps that I have now resumed going through the regular modem the problem "fixed itself".
I did manage to pay my bills via my Android phone, but other things crashed on it, including the most absurd event where I tried to access my charge card account. I entered my card number in the Android entry dialog box and the numbers went in reverse order. That is, each new number appeared to the LEFT of the previous number, and the whole card number string was transposed. I have worked with computers of some kind since 1974 and I have NEVER, EVER seen anything like this. I don't think one could lay such an imbicilic data entry "problem" at the feet of the Android developers for all my vexations with that under-developed platform.
Ditto for my unemployment benefits online form filling on the Android platform. After completing some 90% of the form, why, a simple data entry box somehow error-ed out and I had to abort the whole deal. All to fill it out at the employment office online PC a few days later at 0800h when I had time to do this as I had a 0900h dental appointment following. As usual, the dudes moved in beside me in the latter phases of online form completion.
Though I am not out of the woods yet; the Windows 7 product key code for this PC wasn't accepted for some mysterious reason, and I checked it twice at each entry, not including the first attempt when I put in the dashes when they didn't appear. [Update; I used the MS Office product key by mistake, har, har, and found the MS Windows sticker on the back of this PC.]
Another repair job that was to be completed in my 4 week absence from Penticton was the repair of my amplifier, sent to Chicago for that particular make of electronics. I managed to get my emailing with the repair shop done, and paid them via PayPal on the Android platform (a first), but I haven't yet received it. Those lovely looking ELAC speakers I purchased some 10 weeks ago are gathering dust. Once again, another single source electronic device somehow "crapped out" (was sabotaged IMHO), and has taken an extended amount of time to get back to me. Another front to attend to; perhaps I will get a spare amp/receiver to deal with this infernal fuckery.
And what is behind two concurrent and both much delayed repairs to electronic goods? No idea, even if one was shipped to Chicago, and the other is four blocks away. Both still not back. Some of the reasons might be that they wanted me to:
02-14-2016
That bullshit day of the year again, and pardon my cynicism, but I think I earned it fair and square. Married 20 years to a spouse that was surely in on the harassment and orchestration gig from the get go. Then some 10 years into the show she suddenly became an atagonistic asshole and never let up, even when this was brought to her attention. Sudden and unbidden behavior changes smack of remotely applied mind control, don't they? And she was in the know, to the level they allowed her to be.
A day off, the first in three weeks no less. My part time wine maker employer doesn't need me today, and I am OK with that. Perhaps I can deal with "recovering" from the three weeks of forced online restrictions.
Another front of remotely invoked abuse is the urination urgency games again, so often tied to key perp moments (when going from inside to outside, changing tasks, task completion, realizations of some other pertinent event, changing directions (e.g. row ends in the vineyard), etc.) I wen to the GP drop-in clinic to see what could be done, following the "advice" of the 2015 all-time blow-off from the urologist after two medications didn't work. The urologist said "go see your GP", and here I have a urology problem. Thanks a bunch asshole.
So I went to the GP two days ago, and wasn't relieved of further clinical weirdness either. I explained the circumstances without castigating aforementioned urologist, and the GP asks me, "what am I to do?". Like WTF; I see him because I don't know of any options and then he asks me what I can do. Not much, especially if I don't have knowledge of the urinary tract or self prescribe medications. I later explain that it just might be a neuropathic problem, as not only do I have ADD (=dopamine deficiency), but also have an array of symptoms similar to Parkinson's disease (=later life dopamine deficiency) except for dyskinesia and micrographia. I added, that in the least, the dopamine deficiency theory is a good place to start, even if it might not be the source problem. And what does the GP do? Why, he just stares at me for two seconds or so, says nothing and goes back to looking at my records on the adjacent LCD display. More inexplicable weirdness from this GP. Then he prescribes an Rx that is prostate/bladder related and he tells me that it will take four weeks to see results. OK, I get it; two doctors gone weird.
The "good doctor" in Kelowna, whom I see for hormone therapy, at least had the decency to reply to me when I mentioned my dopamine deficiency theory; she said, "there is nothing I can do". Not very helpful, but at least I got a reply that was more than a stare. No discussion or clinical engagement, and no validation either of course. And if you think I am going on about dopamine too much, don't forget that the Assholes gave me dopamine blocking medications against my will for a total of 8 months in two visits back in 2002-2003. (This following when I was prescribed dopamine agonist medications that were very successful.) Lets see; give a dopamine deficient patient (per SPECT scan) a dopamine blocking agent to knowingly make them worse. I will never forget that criminal clinical atrocity as long as I live. And furthermore, in my experience, shrinks are fucking criminals until proven otherwise.
The perps like me to sharpen and grind metals, and so a half hour session this afternoon to first cut, then grind the lower jaw of my bypass pruner/loppers so the jaw can fit into smaller spaces in the vines. This was done for three other makes and models of pruners, and I have no idea why they can't make them to get into the narrow crevices that vine tending requires. That is, all save the manufacturer of a certain electric pruner I use at my current employer. But as the perps will absolutely not let me place the hand pruners where I want at first go, having me place the lower jaw above or below the intended cut line, why am I not surprised at constant sabotage over cutting vines, or anything else for that matter? Yes, it is that bad; they jerk me out of an good paying IT job in 2002, render me unemployed until getting some spot farm work in 2008. In 2012 I get to take a viticulture course and become a vineyard laborer since, and while using my primary cutting tool, they simply will not allow me to place it where I want to make the pruning cut 99% of the time. As insane (them, that is) as it is utterly depraved.
Onto food shopping, and counting my blessings that I am allowed to be online again.
I had to purchase a refurbished PC to get this posting up. My regular PC has been in the shop for seven weeks and counting. I cannot believe that a simple RAID 1 job (duplicate hard drives) would take this long. And so as it "happens", I purchased this PC which is a near identical model to the one I purchased for my mother at the First Feral Family house as she hadn't updated hers for Windows XP, and so it was cheaper by far to purchase a refurbished one that came with Windows 7 pre-loaded.
But as it "happened", as soon as I got my perp-abetting mother's (new, refurbished) PC up and running, why, I could not access my blog, TI World (this one). I do appreciate that the whole Google/Blogspot empire runs on server farms somewhere, but why on earth would a new desktop PC have anything to do with accessing my blogs? I could log into my Blogspot account just fine, and then I would click on the "Blogs" button and it would not work in any way, no matter how often I tried it. Hence my online blogging access being in hiatus for the last month. Or perhaps that I have now resumed going through the regular modem the problem "fixed itself".
I did manage to pay my bills via my Android phone, but other things crashed on it, including the most absurd event where I tried to access my charge card account. I entered my card number in the Android entry dialog box and the numbers went in reverse order. That is, each new number appeared to the LEFT of the previous number, and the whole card number string was transposed. I have worked with computers of some kind since 1974 and I have NEVER, EVER seen anything like this. I don't think one could lay such an imbicilic data entry "problem" at the feet of the Android developers for all my vexations with that under-developed platform.
Ditto for my unemployment benefits online form filling on the Android platform. After completing some 90% of the form, why, a simple data entry box somehow error-ed out and I had to abort the whole deal. All to fill it out at the employment office online PC a few days later at 0800h when I had time to do this as I had a 0900h dental appointment following. As usual, the dudes moved in beside me in the latter phases of online form completion.
Though I am not out of the woods yet; the Windows 7 product key code for this PC wasn't accepted for some mysterious reason, and I checked it twice at each entry, not including the first attempt when I put in the dashes when they didn't appear. [Update; I used the MS Office product key by mistake, har, har, and found the MS Windows sticker on the back of this PC.]
Another repair job that was to be completed in my 4 week absence from Penticton was the repair of my amplifier, sent to Chicago for that particular make of electronics. I managed to get my emailing with the repair shop done, and paid them via PayPal on the Android platform (a first), but I haven't yet received it. Those lovely looking ELAC speakers I purchased some 10 weeks ago are gathering dust. Once again, another single source electronic device somehow "crapped out" (was sabotaged IMHO), and has taken an extended amount of time to get back to me. Another front to attend to; perhaps I will get a spare amp/receiver to deal with this infernal fuckery.
And what is behind two concurrent and both much delayed repairs to electronic goods? No idea, even if one was shipped to Chicago, and the other is four blocks away. Both still not back. Some of the reasons might be that they wanted me to:
- hand write journal entries (hadn't done any for 8 months)
- use the Android phone for online access, e.g. pay bills (financial transactions are a big harassment theme), and the odd search
- keep me offline for the most part, as mentioned, the phone display is pathetic and so klutz prone with a touch screen, a perfect medium for extra conventional fuckery
- and as of yesterday, re-use my 3 years old LCD display (also VGA instead of HDMI) that was to be sold but somehow never"happened"
- use a new cheap black colored keyboard instead of my almond colored trusty Topre
02-14-2016
That bullshit day of the year again, and pardon my cynicism, but I think I earned it fair and square. Married 20 years to a spouse that was surely in on the harassment and orchestration gig from the get go. Then some 10 years into the show she suddenly became an atagonistic asshole and never let up, even when this was brought to her attention. Sudden and unbidden behavior changes smack of remotely applied mind control, don't they? And she was in the know, to the level they allowed her to be.
A day off, the first in three weeks no less. My part time wine maker employer doesn't need me today, and I am OK with that. Perhaps I can deal with "recovering" from the three weeks of forced online restrictions.
Another front of remotely invoked abuse is the urination urgency games again, so often tied to key perp moments (when going from inside to outside, changing tasks, task completion, realizations of some other pertinent event, changing directions (e.g. row ends in the vineyard), etc.) I wen to the GP drop-in clinic to see what could be done, following the "advice" of the 2015 all-time blow-off from the urologist after two medications didn't work. The urologist said "go see your GP", and here I have a urology problem. Thanks a bunch asshole.
So I went to the GP two days ago, and wasn't relieved of further clinical weirdness either. I explained the circumstances without castigating aforementioned urologist, and the GP asks me, "what am I to do?". Like WTF; I see him because I don't know of any options and then he asks me what I can do. Not much, especially if I don't have knowledge of the urinary tract or self prescribe medications. I later explain that it just might be a neuropathic problem, as not only do I have ADD (=dopamine deficiency), but also have an array of symptoms similar to Parkinson's disease (=later life dopamine deficiency) except for dyskinesia and micrographia. I added, that in the least, the dopamine deficiency theory is a good place to start, even if it might not be the source problem. And what does the GP do? Why, he just stares at me for two seconds or so, says nothing and goes back to looking at my records on the adjacent LCD display. More inexplicable weirdness from this GP. Then he prescribes an Rx that is prostate/bladder related and he tells me that it will take four weeks to see results. OK, I get it; two doctors gone weird.
The "good doctor" in Kelowna, whom I see for hormone therapy, at least had the decency to reply to me when I mentioned my dopamine deficiency theory; she said, "there is nothing I can do". Not very helpful, but at least I got a reply that was more than a stare. No discussion or clinical engagement, and no validation either of course. And if you think I am going on about dopamine too much, don't forget that the Assholes gave me dopamine blocking medications against my will for a total of 8 months in two visits back in 2002-2003. (This following when I was prescribed dopamine agonist medications that were very successful.) Lets see; give a dopamine deficient patient (per SPECT scan) a dopamine blocking agent to knowingly make them worse. I will never forget that criminal clinical atrocity as long as I live. And furthermore, in my experience, shrinks are fucking criminals until proven otherwise.
The perps like me to sharpen and grind metals, and so a half hour session this afternoon to first cut, then grind the lower jaw of my bypass pruner/loppers so the jaw can fit into smaller spaces in the vines. This was done for three other makes and models of pruners, and I have no idea why they can't make them to get into the narrow crevices that vine tending requires. That is, all save the manufacturer of a certain electric pruner I use at my current employer. But as the perps will absolutely not let me place the hand pruners where I want at first go, having me place the lower jaw above or below the intended cut line, why am I not surprised at constant sabotage over cutting vines, or anything else for that matter? Yes, it is that bad; they jerk me out of an good paying IT job in 2002, render me unemployed until getting some spot farm work in 2008. In 2012 I get to take a viticulture course and become a vineyard laborer since, and while using my primary cutting tool, they simply will not allow me to place it where I want to make the pruning cut 99% of the time. As insane (them, that is) as it is utterly depraved.
Onto food shopping, and counting my blessings that I am allowed to be online again.
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