12-22-2015
I have been remiss in not keeping to my weekly schedule, but it seems events just "happened" that way. And I note that I am down 6 followers, the Blogspot kind, though I suspect that this is unrelated.. Or perhaps, the numbers are being rigged, as I don't really keep up on my regular readers. Or perhaps Google/Blogspot did some housekeeping. I don't see any comments castigating me for (...fill in the blank...). It is a common perp set-up for them to have a shill become overly offended and depart in a huff. (Aka, "the person doth protested too much").
Anyhow, I am now at the First Feral Family house here in Victoria, BC, the original Gangstalk Capital of Canada, though in fact, that term could apply to anywhere I live. (I now live in Penticton, BC, where I do viticulture laboring work, one step up from the farm labor the perps forced me into in 2008).
I was busy all last week with a vine pruning project, then one highly harassed day to get all my errands done, and then take my PC in the morning of my departure, getting a shuttle bus to Kelowna airport and then flying out non-stop to Victoria, BC, where a driving rainstorm was on for my arrival.
The next day there was driving duties for my perp-abetting mother, and of course, the loiter-around with the gangstalking assholes at LD, where she needed a new kettle. The present electric kettle had been leaking for over a year, and finally she had decided to do something about it. Naturally, the gangstalking force was out in droves, as they so do love to be there whenever a purchase decision (or any decision for that matter) is made, and of course, loiter all the more when a financial transaction is being made. In this case, she was doing the purchasing.
Though a few minutes before that it was my turn to purchase items at the nearby organics store; the various specialty foods and the supplements I "happened" to "forget" to bring with me. I had a stash of these specialty foods here at the First Feral Family house from last year, and they were all cleaned out. My perp-abetting mother swears she never touched them, so it was either the visiting brother or else it was the perps themselves.
On the latter account they seemed to have stolen more of my belongings stored in the crawl space; a box of kitchen items has gone missing as well as a backpack full of my forestry equipment. I cannot imagine that anyone would steal the latter for any purpose, as no one else in the FFF is trained in forestry, so just where did all this go?
An addition to the stolen items list was my tax returns of 1999 and 2000, as I needed to look them up to find out what my daughter's SSN was, as she is US born. For some reason both were missing from the file folders, though a single photocopy for 2000 was there. (The originals were in black folders, both missing). Missing tax forms isn't anything new, as the to-be-ex stole the aforementioned 1999 tax return sometime in 2001 when she and our daughter visited me in Seattle. (A pre-emptive divorce papers theft, or more like, directed by the perps before they outed themselves). It was only a month later when I found it missing and I got a replacement from the accountant, in a (another) black folder. So who in the fuck is still stealing my long-ago tax returns?
All this was preceded last year when I discovered my stereo speakers missing from the same set of boxes in the crawl space, only to see an identical pair at my out-of-town (this town) brother's place. At the time I mentioned that there were very similar to my pair that had gone missing but he and his wife assured me that they had the speakers for a number of years, which was patently false, because I had never seen them there before. But it seemed that they were ready for my questioning and had a pat answer. And besides, I was mind-fucked into not challenging them, and also "forgot" there was an identifying feature on one of the speakers behind the fascia covers.
I met up with my farm worker friend in Victoria three days ago, and had dinner out. On the prior day I asked if she wanted to see a jazz/pop singer who shall go by the initials HC, a favorite of mine. HC "happened" to be playing and if it weren't' for the write up in the newspaper I would not of known. But as there was some seats still available online, I purchased them the day before and got a pair of high up seats. It was a good show, and I was glad I went.
I was forced to take a pee before I could take my seat, and my farm worked friend stayed there and could of taken the seat next to the Fat Girl on the other side. But no, I was shoo-ed into sitting between them. My farm worker friend was dressed in a camel brown coat and kept it on the whole time there, and on my other side was the Fat Girl in a fuzzy red sweater and black pants. She was with at least one other Fat Girl dressed in green and a more slender one between them. For the first set HC was in a long red gown, not too surprising as she does go for the formal look, and too, the Victoria Symphony orchestra was playing as part of this Christmas show. But what was most curious that was when I shifted in my seat (by a forced perp discomfort sensation) the seat mates on either side moved within a second or two, one following the other, not together. This "happened" at least three times in the first set.
My farm worker friend also squirmed in her own seat a fair amount, and did the classic perp public bus pose of turning her back to me feigning that she was re-adjusting her posture to see when in fact there was no change in the view of the stage. The Fat Girl also made sure to lean forward at least a dozen times to suddenly arrive in my peripheral vision. I have plenty of antsy seat mates in the past, but these two took the cake. (Very often they clear the seats around me, and this time it was behind me). And also, someone was kicking the back of my seat to send vibrations through but there was no one there. Go figure.
For the second set HC was dressed in a long black gown, and when the Fat Girls returned to their seats, the slender one took an empty one behind which the red sweatered Fat Girl took one seat away, next to the other Fat Girl. Anyhow, having seating arrangements changed before, or at set break at concerts/shows is nothing new since all this infernal hell began in 04-2002. And lo, with the Fat Girl one seat away, she still did lean-forward games to get into my R peripheral vision, and my antsy/squirming farm worker friend kept up her fidgeting. It was a good show, and I was glad to have seen it. The perps seem to like me to catch a concert early in my return-to-Victoria visits, within three days of my flight, as this is a least the third time in four years.
And a heavy show of negroes all over me upon my trip/visit, starting with a negro male flight attendant doing the folksy intro and safety run down on the aircraft PA, as well as the passenger meet and greet. And too, with my annual dose of TV, it too is heavy on negro video. Not to mention that awful tragedy in Las Vegas with a negro woman mowing down pedestrians in her vehicle and her mug plastered on the news for three nights running.
Other Unfavoreds are also in predominance; skin-headed males, tight crimp hair and fat people. A TV special on Odelle brought on some very fat folks. And too, my perp-abetting mother just had to come back downstairs in the late evening and loiter there while I was watching a crime show. The perps seem to get no end of mileage out of having me watch crime on TV, or else read it in the newspapers. Other planted stories they like to get a rise from me are the multicultural inanity out of Europe, and the seeming social/law abiding decay that goes with it. I read the UK paper, the Daily Telegraph, that there were 168 laser strike incidents on aircraft at Heathrow airport in 2014, which suggests it is a problem far greater than the lone nutter, and just might be another of those multicultural problems related to those who seem to have a need to bring down commercial aircraft for whatever perverse and misguided reasons they have, wrapped up in a religious fervor. Ditto for the recent terrorist mayhem in Paris at the Bataclan Theatre. And as all too usual, Canadian media, and likely the US media too, don't report the utterly deranged lunacy of the perpetrators; as quoted in the Daily Telegraph, the stated reason was that the theater was selected was that it was a "den of prostitution and vice". It almost makes me want to hug Donald Trump, though it is the last thing I would ever conceive of, even in this mind-fuck hell I have been cast into for the past 13.5 years.
Then the obligatory street crush/gangstalking show with my perp-abetting mother as well; the Christmas shopping excuse of course, and doing driving for her as she doesn't like to get off her usual daytime beat. Which also brought on the male crush gangstalk games, two or three abreast coming straight at me, and the same routine,- all two or three together yet pretending that they are unassociated and each looking elsewhere as they do this and of course, absolutely no manners, aka "pardon me". So much for the Christmas spirit. The stores they wanted me to stalked in were the LD (kettle purchase above), the specialty organics store, the liquor store (the perps just love all that wine and glass for whatever reason, likely related that they have me work in viticulture now), two book stores downtown and the inevitable grocery store. In the latter case it was most unusual as there is always a major gangstalking crush, but for some reason they backed off and then slowly built it up while my perp-abetting mother put on the delaying ditz games.
Anyhow, enough to post for this week and last, and given my now assigned grim perspective of all harassment games, these trying time
Showing posts with label downtown gangstalking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label downtown gangstalking. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Monday, March 22, 2010
Monday First Feral Family Events
1420h
Back to online schlepping when I have things to do, like studying Oracle material to write the exams next month. This is one long running jerkaround; taking the courses, wanting to study, but somehow it "just doesn't happen", per mind fuck games IMHO. In all my college years, and in all other situations of writing exams. e.g. professional forestry, I have never faced such a continuing malaise of getting on with studying.
Back at my place after cooking lunch, a screaming rage show over a new roll of Cling Wrap a lunchtime today. The assholes had punctured the Cling Wrap to make the start tab unusable, and then mashed the end of it to make it unlocatable on the outside of the roll. Then they ragged me some more with faked touches and Cling Wrap pieces that wouldn't leave my hand when over the garbage. I haven't had one of these for at least four years, so back to the bad old days of high rage gratuitious abuse. This time with no neighbor complaints or the simulation thereof.
This followed a Monday morning at the First Feral Family home, then to the computer shop with the hard drive to replace the one in my mother's PC, then to her accountant to drop off papers, then to downtown for her to look for shorts, then coffee and then more shorts looking, and then back to my place to drop myself off, and she continuing homebound. And plenty of the shiftless males wandering around with their coffee cups held out in front of them, the Coffee Corps as I call them. Presumably there was some perp arrangement for me to be drinking coffee and seeing the Fuckwits on the street carrying their coffee simultaneously. I notice that a coffee wholesaler has set up shop within this city block, so I expect the coffee connection, read perp brown color research, will be continuing for at least another year.
It was communal TV watching last night, just my mother and I, and she wanted to see the Para Winter Olympics closing ceremonies, as it is a big deal being almost local. Not that she followed it much, but as it was rife with wheelchairs, I was scripted to see it. I spent most of the time looking at the curtains and listening, as there is nothing I loathe more (of late especially) of all the clinical materiel, that fucking wheelchairs. The perps even seem to arrange for me to see plenty of bicycle wheels as a surrogate. This must relate to the "lost years" of 1956 to 59 when they wiped most of my recall, as I have no conscious memories as to why I would loathe wheelchairs or any other known traumatization associations. Besides, this "loathing" seems to be a planted "reaction" as I didn't particular care either way as to seeing a wheelchair or not until then, and since the perps went overt-beserk in 2002, they made sure I noticed and reacted to a significantly greater degree than I ever did. Another thanks for nothing from the Assholes of the Fourth Reich.
And they were out in abundance today, the downtown perambulating with my mother, a total fuckover scene for them, as they can get me to walk slower, and have her do ditzy things like step in others' way, like a real perp/shill. And I suppose her quest for shorts might be an exposition of this subject, as the perps like putting on gangstalkers wearing shorts, sometimes on rainy winter days. I have never seen so many Fuckwits wearing shorts since they went over-beserk. And too, not a much as aforementioned wheelchairs, they like me to "react" negatively to short wearing Fuckwits, especially in the more absurd scenarios like I mentioned.
1445h
A rich set of TI links here at Are You Targeted?; some I don't know of and will explore today, though I believe I have corresponded with Jeremy, the author.
1635h
An ongoing train of loud mufflered vehicles with the noise somehow getting through the hearing protective earmuffs. Like I have said, the noise-scape is highly governed in my experience, and that includes planting human noises around individuals who did not actually make them.
The perps have me interested in soil science today, specifically terra preta or biochar soil treatment for improved yields. Not exactly anything I can do about while living in an apartment, but as they had me digging and sieving soil for some 10 hours last week, they want to continue the coverage of this very significant topic (to them). And my mother has some more soil digging jobs she says, after doing some 20 hours worth on one bed at her house. She doesn't seem too moved to make sure it doesn't revert to weeds so far, but it isn't uncommon for any of my assigned dig-overs to be left to fallow for some months.
What is the deal with campers abounding in the streets these days? It is way too early in this neck of the woods for camping season and yet campers have been given extra vehicular gangstalking attention. In the fraught abusive days of 2002, they would often place extra campers around the house of Ms. C of the story whenever I would stay there. I envisioned these as control rooms for applying the fuckery and pain at the time, though it could of been more mundane and fitting the same objective as having these mobile kitchens and sleeping quarters arranged around town, ostensibly for movie crews, except that there isn't a movie shoot that can be found. I suspect the perps' own operatives do sleep overs of locations for specific reasons, ones usually on my regular beats, all to see if they can detect some kind of similar energetic interactions between their cooperative operatives and yours truly who may have slept in the vicinity, or who frequently passes by.
1845h
A fascinating read for 50 minutes or so, The Secrets of the Lost Races; New Discoveries of Advanced Technology in Ancient Civilizations, by Rene Noorbergen. It is fodder for the once freaked out TI who has come round to a new world view, albeit incomplete until the perps finally tip their hand, but don't plan on that. One interesting vignette in the story is about Dr. Gooch, an explorer who was a Mason, and who indicated to his non-Masonic colleague that the Masons had posession of Amoela's diary, said to be the most complete record of ancient human history. Dr. Gooch died shortly thereafter. So where have we heard this story before, "chance" expiration soon after, or before, important revelations or in advance of significant technological direction change, e.g. Rudolph Diesel's demise. Karen Silkwood anybody?, But from what I digest, the wretched excesses of the war in Iraq and the associated larceny isn't getting reported as the divulgee-to-be gets knocked off, in suicide or combat. Prison Planet indeed, even as the wardens think they are exempt.
2000h
Some new links added to the Consolidated Link List to the right, from tonight's perusing. Saving you the jump and wading through that very long list I need to do something about;
Mother Earth Journal Terri Hansen, a native Indian journalist, gets gangstalked. No race is exempt.
The Cetorian A new blog (03-2010), but an experienced TI who isn't afraid to address the bigger picture.
And no seeming ability to change the blog body width, so it is proportionate to the size of one's monitor, and I am stuck with the skinny column down the middle in this here Blogspot. I can see from the examples I am getting the detuned and defeatured Blogspot presentation, but this is getting silly when I cannot change the blog text width for those of us with 22" displays.
2200h
More blog maintenance activity, putting the Consolidated Link List into a Blogspot "edit" page, about the dumbest name they could of come up with; "static pages" maybe. And this was forced because I wasn't allowed to find this page on a search, so another "regular page" gets moved to its new billing. Thankfully no major select/copy/paste losses or jerkarounds in the process.
I am going to post this now, as I really don't have much going on to detail, or else I am getting blocked.
Back to online schlepping when I have things to do, like studying Oracle material to write the exams next month. This is one long running jerkaround; taking the courses, wanting to study, but somehow it "just doesn't happen", per mind fuck games IMHO. In all my college years, and in all other situations of writing exams. e.g. professional forestry, I have never faced such a continuing malaise of getting on with studying.
Back at my place after cooking lunch, a screaming rage show over a new roll of Cling Wrap a lunchtime today. The assholes had punctured the Cling Wrap to make the start tab unusable, and then mashed the end of it to make it unlocatable on the outside of the roll. Then they ragged me some more with faked touches and Cling Wrap pieces that wouldn't leave my hand when over the garbage. I haven't had one of these for at least four years, so back to the bad old days of high rage gratuitious abuse. This time with no neighbor complaints or the simulation thereof.
This followed a Monday morning at the First Feral Family home, then to the computer shop with the hard drive to replace the one in my mother's PC, then to her accountant to drop off papers, then to downtown for her to look for shorts, then coffee and then more shorts looking, and then back to my place to drop myself off, and she continuing homebound. And plenty of the shiftless males wandering around with their coffee cups held out in front of them, the Coffee Corps as I call them. Presumably there was some perp arrangement for me to be drinking coffee and seeing the Fuckwits on the street carrying their coffee simultaneously. I notice that a coffee wholesaler has set up shop within this city block, so I expect the coffee connection, read perp brown color research, will be continuing for at least another year.
It was communal TV watching last night, just my mother and I, and she wanted to see the Para Winter Olympics closing ceremonies, as it is a big deal being almost local. Not that she followed it much, but as it was rife with wheelchairs, I was scripted to see it. I spent most of the time looking at the curtains and listening, as there is nothing I loathe more (of late especially) of all the clinical materiel, that fucking wheelchairs. The perps even seem to arrange for me to see plenty of bicycle wheels as a surrogate. This must relate to the "lost years" of 1956 to 59 when they wiped most of my recall, as I have no conscious memories as to why I would loathe wheelchairs or any other known traumatization associations. Besides, this "loathing" seems to be a planted "reaction" as I didn't particular care either way as to seeing a wheelchair or not until then, and since the perps went overt-beserk in 2002, they made sure I noticed and reacted to a significantly greater degree than I ever did. Another thanks for nothing from the Assholes of the Fourth Reich.
And they were out in abundance today, the downtown perambulating with my mother, a total fuckover scene for them, as they can get me to walk slower, and have her do ditzy things like step in others' way, like a real perp/shill. And I suppose her quest for shorts might be an exposition of this subject, as the perps like putting on gangstalkers wearing shorts, sometimes on rainy winter days. I have never seen so many Fuckwits wearing shorts since they went over-beserk. And too, not a much as aforementioned wheelchairs, they like me to "react" negatively to short wearing Fuckwits, especially in the more absurd scenarios like I mentioned.
1445h
A rich set of TI links here at Are You Targeted?; some I don't know of and will explore today, though I believe I have corresponded with Jeremy, the author.
1635h
An ongoing train of loud mufflered vehicles with the noise somehow getting through the hearing protective earmuffs. Like I have said, the noise-scape is highly governed in my experience, and that includes planting human noises around individuals who did not actually make them.
The perps have me interested in soil science today, specifically terra preta or biochar soil treatment for improved yields. Not exactly anything I can do about while living in an apartment, but as they had me digging and sieving soil for some 10 hours last week, they want to continue the coverage of this very significant topic (to them). And my mother has some more soil digging jobs she says, after doing some 20 hours worth on one bed at her house. She doesn't seem too moved to make sure it doesn't revert to weeds so far, but it isn't uncommon for any of my assigned dig-overs to be left to fallow for some months.
What is the deal with campers abounding in the streets these days? It is way too early in this neck of the woods for camping season and yet campers have been given extra vehicular gangstalking attention. In the fraught abusive days of 2002, they would often place extra campers around the house of Ms. C of the story whenever I would stay there. I envisioned these as control rooms for applying the fuckery and pain at the time, though it could of been more mundane and fitting the same objective as having these mobile kitchens and sleeping quarters arranged around town, ostensibly for movie crews, except that there isn't a movie shoot that can be found. I suspect the perps' own operatives do sleep overs of locations for specific reasons, ones usually on my regular beats, all to see if they can detect some kind of similar energetic interactions between their cooperative operatives and yours truly who may have slept in the vicinity, or who frequently passes by.
1845h
A fascinating read for 50 minutes or so, The Secrets of the Lost Races; New Discoveries of Advanced Technology in Ancient Civilizations, by Rene Noorbergen. It is fodder for the once freaked out TI who has come round to a new world view, albeit incomplete until the perps finally tip their hand, but don't plan on that. One interesting vignette in the story is about Dr. Gooch, an explorer who was a Mason, and who indicated to his non-Masonic colleague that the Masons had posession of Amoela's diary, said to be the most complete record of ancient human history. Dr. Gooch died shortly thereafter. So where have we heard this story before, "chance" expiration soon after, or before, important revelations or in advance of significant technological direction change, e.g. Rudolph Diesel's demise. Karen Silkwood anybody?, But from what I digest, the wretched excesses of the war in Iraq and the associated larceny isn't getting reported as the divulgee-to-be gets knocked off, in suicide or combat. Prison Planet indeed, even as the wardens think they are exempt.
2000h
Some new links added to the Consolidated Link List to the right, from tonight's perusing. Saving you the jump and wading through that very long list I need to do something about;
Mother Earth Journal Terri Hansen, a native Indian journalist, gets gangstalked. No race is exempt.
The Cetorian A new blog (03-2010), but an experienced TI who isn't afraid to address the bigger picture.
And no seeming ability to change the blog body width, so it is proportionate to the size of one's monitor, and I am stuck with the skinny column down the middle in this here Blogspot. I can see from the examples I am getting the detuned and defeatured Blogspot presentation, but this is getting silly when I cannot change the blog text width for those of us with 22" displays.
2200h
More blog maintenance activity, putting the Consolidated Link List into a Blogspot "edit" page, about the dumbest name they could of come up with; "static pages" maybe. And this was forced because I wasn't allowed to find this page on a search, so another "regular page" gets moved to its new billing. Thankfully no major select/copy/paste losses or jerkarounds in the process.
I am going to post this now, as I really don't have much going on to detail, or else I am getting blocked.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Bifurcation
1205h
That title translated, specifically means doing two things at once, or interleaved activities, swapping between them. And hopping between two activities is a big deal for the sickos. Today it is all about Linux boot partitions, and then ordering a removable hard drive rack (obviates the need for a boot partition/disc), and then back to boot partitions and boot manager software. Why the sickos want me involved in this is strange, but I am getting enough noise stalking through the earmuffs to let me know that they are vitally interested. Other coincident phenomenon are light flashes, shadow flashes (momentary darkening), mouth and saliva noises and some printing activity on the side. Just too fascinating for them it would seem, having me on the edge of cognitive capability, not to mention a potential danger of taking out the hard drive and wiping this here Windows software. Along the way, as part of this mornings' efforts on this theme, I ordered a trayless removable rack and an extra hard drive. This hardware configuration has been a long time notion, planted before overt harassment, as far back as 2000 when I got back online from home. I could detail some more of this pedantic topic, but I will leave it at this, more as a mention than the gory techinical details, which will be only partial in any event.
1340 h
A series of overhead pounding noises heard through the earmuffs is continuing as I write this. It is about 1h40min after lunch, and as before, it seems that food digestion bedevils the assholes, and they have their post-meal set point when they go stupid with noise. Most prime harassment activities are scheduled just before lunch or dinner, often protracting the meal time as part of the arrangements. Hence, Thursday's (yesterday) yoga at 1130h, finishing for the four block gangstalk gauntlet at 1235h or so.
As always, the associated activity at the time of the noise assault is always of note; today, more pounding noises started when reading about the recent release of the Palin emails.
1415h
I have done some more mind-share analysis of the present PC events/stunts; a possible boot disc manager software load, dual O/S and the related goings on of the 3 month old hard drive getting bad sectors, and also the impasse over backing it up. With all that going on, starting with the lastmost activty and the pissing match that it has become, one has to wonder where this is all going, save a disaster in the making. Don't ask me what it means for the sickos, but they are decidedly interested in all this, especially by way of the flashes of light that are displaying on the wall in my peripherial vision. As always, how such bright and focussed beams get some six stories up and in this apartment block is very strange by any account.
2000h
The sickos have been keeping me in all day, and even doing laundry (hallway accessed) and vacuuming today while the laundry was on. So... when they let me out later in the day, it becomes a major gangstalking event, which it was.
An hour after dinner was spent in futile attempts to get a boot manager software suite loaded and functioning, but to no avail. The two downloads identified the discs easy enough, but there is a logical boot partition on one of them, and it didn't show up to be assigned a boot file. (Or whatever the fuck it is supposed to do, as I don't have this all figured out yet, and even the Oracle instructions don't help when it says to take the default, which means wiping out the entire drive). And it seems this effort, even if expended in futility, was so interesting that a major gangstalk scene was on.
They even brought out the past building manager to loiter outside on the sidewalk and suck on a cigarette. Then three of them descending on me once at the sidewalk, and to "escape" I attempt to cross the street, but lo, if they didn't have it covered with vehicles coursing by. Then at the first pedestrian traffic signal, the babe in red and her black labrador dog were patiently waiting on the other side, and once on the sidewalk the white panted dufus dude comes in. Then all of a sudden no gangstalkers for half the block until the outside of the LD store. Then relatively few in the foyer area save one wacko dude in a red toque headed out the exit. I get to where the Pears soap is and there was three of them all around, and the stocking/stalking dude follows me up the asshole as I walk by, and then having walked too far, we do this little dance in the aisle among the displays that are constricting aisle space. Then once I picked up the box of soap and then no other gangstalkers coming at me around the corners like they ususally do. Then onto the chocolate and junkfood aisle, and an all time first, no one there. But alas, as I enter the aisle a young woman comes tromping through and puts on the yawn next to the chocolate section. I get the chocolate without any further gangstalkers, the first time in years at that location, and onto the laundry detergent, where oddly, no gangstalkers. Onto the checkouts and I see they closed one down, and the one open one has a wooly Caucasian hurl-do dude, aka, rasta hair, about as disgusting as hair can look. Off to Customer Service as no one is there to get a cashier, and lo, three Fuckwits arrive in a flush, one being the red toqued goof mentioned above, now entering the store after exiting with nothing. One of them arrives behind me while my groceries are being checked out and I am about to pay, and he needs to phone someone he tells the cashier. Anyhow, out of there, and two more Fuckwits together cross my path at the exit outside and just about walk into each other getting in the same entrance door. Another passel of six gangstalkers at the liquor store on my beat back to my place and I was done, not even door service (a common gangstalking feint). This on and off gangstalking clusters is something totally new, as I usually get a steady stream with some clusters in some locations.
Which begs the question as to what that was all about; did they want me fresh from software install futility or was it because I was cooped up all day? Hard to know, and nearly always are there multiple objectives in one sortie.
2040h
And what is with this ongoing and increasing campaign to create momentary visual smear or pixellations? This often happens when I am looking at text, and then a momentary glance and it is all smeared usually in some kind of parallel striated pattern or in a vortex swirl. I have been getting more of this of late, and it seems in one case when in the kitchen and looking at the circular stove burners, often a glance over my shoulder, that the arc of the edge of the burner at the stovetop appears to be staircased in rough pixels of the same color. Its as if the assholes don't want me to see an arced line for crissakes. That and a few other hundred or so physical geometries they constant distort in my visual field.
2110h
Two more rounds of boot manager software failing; not even running this time, never mind the fake of apparent function with the Windows dialog boxes that go nowhere. Why is something so simple orchestrated to be so protracted?
2225h
Major visual problems; plasma beams along lines on the LCD display, and the always visible trails of masers wafting in my visual field. And the odd maser making a beeline toward me. I saw one such maser yesterday, coming off the dry-erase board at the front of the classroom, emanating the word "name" as it was written. More WTF, and when is this rape-show done? Not for at least two more years it seems. Any IT/Oracle jobs are going to happen until 4Q2010 my mother intimated a month or so ago. Take it from there, and the desperate clown show that keeps rolling on.
That title translated, specifically means doing two things at once, or interleaved activities, swapping between them. And hopping between two activities is a big deal for the sickos. Today it is all about Linux boot partitions, and then ordering a removable hard drive rack (obviates the need for a boot partition/disc), and then back to boot partitions and boot manager software. Why the sickos want me involved in this is strange, but I am getting enough noise stalking through the earmuffs to let me know that they are vitally interested. Other coincident phenomenon are light flashes, shadow flashes (momentary darkening), mouth and saliva noises and some printing activity on the side. Just too fascinating for them it would seem, having me on the edge of cognitive capability, not to mention a potential danger of taking out the hard drive and wiping this here Windows software. Along the way, as part of this mornings' efforts on this theme, I ordered a trayless removable rack and an extra hard drive. This hardware configuration has been a long time notion, planted before overt harassment, as far back as 2000 when I got back online from home. I could detail some more of this pedantic topic, but I will leave it at this, more as a mention than the gory techinical details, which will be only partial in any event.
1340 h
A series of overhead pounding noises heard through the earmuffs is continuing as I write this. It is about 1h40min after lunch, and as before, it seems that food digestion bedevils the assholes, and they have their post-meal set point when they go stupid with noise. Most prime harassment activities are scheduled just before lunch or dinner, often protracting the meal time as part of the arrangements. Hence, Thursday's (yesterday) yoga at 1130h, finishing for the four block gangstalk gauntlet at 1235h or so.
As always, the associated activity at the time of the noise assault is always of note; today, more pounding noises started when reading about the recent release of the Palin emails.
1415h
I have done some more mind-share analysis of the present PC events/stunts; a possible boot disc manager software load, dual O/S and the related goings on of the 3 month old hard drive getting bad sectors, and also the impasse over backing it up. With all that going on, starting with the lastmost activty and the pissing match that it has become, one has to wonder where this is all going, save a disaster in the making. Don't ask me what it means for the sickos, but they are decidedly interested in all this, especially by way of the flashes of light that are displaying on the wall in my peripherial vision. As always, how such bright and focussed beams get some six stories up and in this apartment block is very strange by any account.
2000h
The sickos have been keeping me in all day, and even doing laundry (hallway accessed) and vacuuming today while the laundry was on. So... when they let me out later in the day, it becomes a major gangstalking event, which it was.
An hour after dinner was spent in futile attempts to get a boot manager software suite loaded and functioning, but to no avail. The two downloads identified the discs easy enough, but there is a logical boot partition on one of them, and it didn't show up to be assigned a boot file. (Or whatever the fuck it is supposed to do, as I don't have this all figured out yet, and even the Oracle instructions don't help when it says to take the default, which means wiping out the entire drive). And it seems this effort, even if expended in futility, was so interesting that a major gangstalk scene was on.
They even brought out the past building manager to loiter outside on the sidewalk and suck on a cigarette. Then three of them descending on me once at the sidewalk, and to "escape" I attempt to cross the street, but lo, if they didn't have it covered with vehicles coursing by. Then at the first pedestrian traffic signal, the babe in red and her black labrador dog were patiently waiting on the other side, and once on the sidewalk the white panted dufus dude comes in. Then all of a sudden no gangstalkers for half the block until the outside of the LD store. Then relatively few in the foyer area save one wacko dude in a red toque headed out the exit. I get to where the Pears soap is and there was three of them all around, and the stocking/stalking dude follows me up the asshole as I walk by, and then having walked too far, we do this little dance in the aisle among the displays that are constricting aisle space. Then once I picked up the box of soap and then no other gangstalkers coming at me around the corners like they ususally do. Then onto the chocolate and junkfood aisle, and an all time first, no one there. But alas, as I enter the aisle a young woman comes tromping through and puts on the yawn next to the chocolate section. I get the chocolate without any further gangstalkers, the first time in years at that location, and onto the laundry detergent, where oddly, no gangstalkers. Onto the checkouts and I see they closed one down, and the one open one has a wooly Caucasian hurl-do dude, aka, rasta hair, about as disgusting as hair can look. Off to Customer Service as no one is there to get a cashier, and lo, three Fuckwits arrive in a flush, one being the red toqued goof mentioned above, now entering the store after exiting with nothing. One of them arrives behind me while my groceries are being checked out and I am about to pay, and he needs to phone someone he tells the cashier. Anyhow, out of there, and two more Fuckwits together cross my path at the exit outside and just about walk into each other getting in the same entrance door. Another passel of six gangstalkers at the liquor store on my beat back to my place and I was done, not even door service (a common gangstalking feint). This on and off gangstalking clusters is something totally new, as I usually get a steady stream with some clusters in some locations.
Which begs the question as to what that was all about; did they want me fresh from software install futility or was it because I was cooped up all day? Hard to know, and nearly always are there multiple objectives in one sortie.
2040h
And what is with this ongoing and increasing campaign to create momentary visual smear or pixellations? This often happens when I am looking at text, and then a momentary glance and it is all smeared usually in some kind of parallel striated pattern or in a vortex swirl. I have been getting more of this of late, and it seems in one case when in the kitchen and looking at the circular stove burners, often a glance over my shoulder, that the arc of the edge of the burner at the stovetop appears to be staircased in rough pixels of the same color. Its as if the assholes don't want me to see an arced line for crissakes. That and a few other hundred or so physical geometries they constant distort in my visual field.
2110h
Two more rounds of boot manager software failing; not even running this time, never mind the fake of apparent function with the Windows dialog boxes that go nowhere. Why is something so simple orchestrated to be so protracted?
2225h
Major visual problems; plasma beams along lines on the LCD display, and the always visible trails of masers wafting in my visual field. And the odd maser making a beeline toward me. I saw one such maser yesterday, coming off the dry-erase board at the front of the classroom, emanating the word "name" as it was written. More WTF, and when is this rape-show done? Not for at least two more years it seems. Any IT/Oracle jobs are going to happen until 4Q2010 my mother intimated a month or so ago. Take it from there, and the desperate clown show that keeps rolling on.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Kissing Fat Girls
1740h
Yesterday's blog remarked on fat girls arriving among a clutch of dudes, and there were plenty on the city bus today in both directions. But in what seems to be some kind of amelioration of their Unfavored status, why, a fat girl, not unlike the seen yesterday, was in my dream just before getting up, and was leaning over to kiss me. Her hair seemed very authentic and was draped in my face, but I wasn't minding, even reacting positively. With the ex excepted, this is the first time someone from the gangstalking crowd has ever featured in my dreams before. Anyhow, it was most odd in being so vivid and real, as well as referencing a real gangstalker person who I wouldn't know, and am not even attracted to. That's five anomalies in one short dream sequence, and more than enough to tell me that the dream invasion fuckery is getting out of hand.
And it is not that they relented on fat girls today when out at my all day Oracle DBA class, as there were more on the city bus freakshow today in both directions. Not many, perhaps three in total, deferring to the prominent dude show the sickos feel compelled to keep around me.
At the all day computer class it was the encroachment from each side that was more obvious; putting bicycle helmets, red bicycle jackets and other flotsam closer to me as if I were some kind of exotic sampling device.
And the most dedicated motorcycle noisestalking to date this morning. I was wallking W. bound on 700 Fort St. and a large motorcycle with a very resonant muffler was passing by, though by itself it wasn't a big deal, save being odd for 0820h in the morning. I walk 50' S. to the bus shelter, and lo if the motorcycle hadn't circled the block and made another pass, this time in a different cardinal direction, N. bound. Strange that anyone would be lost on a motorcycle as that time in the morning. And within about three minutes, the fucker was coming by again, having circled the block again. Someone must know better than me that I loathe the sound of large Harley Davidson motorcycles, but why are they so persistent with this bullshit? It is exceedingly rare to see large cruising motorcycles at this time of year, January, in the first place. I haven't quite seen anything so blatantly obvious as this before on the vehicular gangstalking side, but some of the ambulatory gangstalking is getting absurd.
The pit lamping crew of two nights ago when I took the city bus to my first class was back again this morning, sitting in the bus lane which they aren't supposed to do, and pretending they were working by sitting in their vehicle on a Saturday morning at 0820h or so. Eventually they moved their oversized service vehicle off, but not before a senseless twit drove their black SUV along the bus stalls when the lane was marked or buses only. The vehicular curb crawl might be known to other TI's, though possibly in different forms, maybe in a solicitation guise.
And just for me it seems in this eco-conscious town, the assholes had at least one third of all the outdoor night time lights on. All manner of buildings kept their mercury vapor or sodium lights on. At the college where I had my all day class, some 16 sodium arc lamps were on at the entrance way all day. It boggles the mind as to how much effort they devote to this insane harassment bullshit, but they are persistent if nothing else.
2055h
Just like old times; an overhead ceiling floor whacking with a simultaneous zapping that sent me into a screaming rage. Someone did this right over top of me, and I had been formerly in the kitchen 8' away, cracking the rest of the hazelnuts that is going to become my dinner in a few days once the refried beans get used up. And while in the kitchen I was getting overhead rumbling and thundering, but not a the sudden shock and fry level that got me so enraged. Funny how they know where I am, and funny that they pulled these noises/attacks that they haven't used much in the past year. And all over spending an hour cracking the hazelnuts that were purchased 09-2009, and in fact were a 2008 harvest.
The perps are still having me soak the hazelnuts for a week before eating them, as this seems to be a big deal for them. What it does is change the internal composition of the nut and makes the sugars more availible and lessens the toxins, not unlike malting barley. (Except that they stop the germination and then cook the grain to crystallize the sugars. Anyhow, you can read all about soaking nuts from the raw food folks at this link
2325h
Why is it that the font on this Blogspot edit window keep changing? Anyhow, another forced "forget" over turning on the burner with a just-filled kettle of water intended for tea making. I was screamingly infuriated with this stunt as it has been happening about 30% of the time for the past three weeks and I am sick fed up of playing this dumbshit disruption game. They have their "issues" with the red lights on the stove that denote a burner is on, as they do with a similar red light on the power bar for this here PC. The converse is also true, having me "forget" and leave them on, and in the case of the stove, I scream at them if this "happens". Is this some kind of run up to burn the place down, or is it the rambo sickies out of control?
Getting me pissed off was the precursor to reminding me that I needed to head out to the grocery store after tea and chocolate. A crowd of 20 Fuckwit Yobos was hollaring outside, heard through tea time, and lo, if there weren't there on the street when headed to the local supermarket. They were gathered outside a restaurant for whatever reason, presumably in the service of the Fuckwits, as this bullshit has happened before, and been just as obviously staged. In 2002 they pulled this bullshit below my apartment window and it was on private property, and "happened" to be staged when I had a Gaussmeter in hand for the first time, haven just arrived. Later the Fuckwit Herd moved up the street to partially trace my outbound steps, and loiter within 10' of me taking the alternate route to avoid said Herd.
And for once the assholes had only a small crew in the supermarket; a brown skinned native Indian male was hounding me, "showing up" in advance of where I was to be at least twice, as was another male Fuckwit. One has to laugh though, as it would be about the last grocery store a native Indian would shop at, given that it is more high end, and the dearth of them in this neighborhood. Not to indulge in stereotyping too much, but he did look ridiculous while pretend shopping, putting his hand to his chin as if in study mode. I was full of brown chocolate, and that just might have been the reason for the brown skinned gangstalker, but who knows. Me, least of all.
Enough purging my vexations on today's Fuckover Force reportage, and off to post this.
An interesting link (a book, titled Nieper - Conversion of Gravity Field Energy - Revolution in Technology, Medicine and Society (1985)), for those that follow the unconventional energy concepts. Illuminating to learn that these inventors and leading thinkers were also hounded by kooks to the point of murder (Moray), suicided before divulging their secrets (Hendershot), and cancered (Bruce de Palma, - not in this book). One interesting aside in this book was Wilheim Reich, who personally contacted Einstein and showed him a 4C degree difference between inside his orgone (free energy) accumulator and outside of it got shafted by Einstein who never talked to him again. As far as I know, Tesla and TT Brown lived to old age, one of the few in what I suspect is a highly managed physics field. More of the conspiracy stuff...
But what I find interesting is that the neutrino bath we live in, is also called the Tachyon Field, and it is assigned gravitational properties. I haven't finished reading the book yet, but it is readable and not theory fraught, where I usually check out, or more like, my tormentors make sure I don't learn theory.
Yesterday's blog remarked on fat girls arriving among a clutch of dudes, and there were plenty on the city bus today in both directions. But in what seems to be some kind of amelioration of their Unfavored status, why, a fat girl, not unlike the seen yesterday, was in my dream just before getting up, and was leaning over to kiss me. Her hair seemed very authentic and was draped in my face, but I wasn't minding, even reacting positively. With the ex excepted, this is the first time someone from the gangstalking crowd has ever featured in my dreams before. Anyhow, it was most odd in being so vivid and real, as well as referencing a real gangstalker person who I wouldn't know, and am not even attracted to. That's five anomalies in one short dream sequence, and more than enough to tell me that the dream invasion fuckery is getting out of hand.
And it is not that they relented on fat girls today when out at my all day Oracle DBA class, as there were more on the city bus freakshow today in both directions. Not many, perhaps three in total, deferring to the prominent dude show the sickos feel compelled to keep around me.
At the all day computer class it was the encroachment from each side that was more obvious; putting bicycle helmets, red bicycle jackets and other flotsam closer to me as if I were some kind of exotic sampling device.
And the most dedicated motorcycle noisestalking to date this morning. I was wallking W. bound on 700 Fort St. and a large motorcycle with a very resonant muffler was passing by, though by itself it wasn't a big deal, save being odd for 0820h in the morning. I walk 50' S. to the bus shelter, and lo if the motorcycle hadn't circled the block and made another pass, this time in a different cardinal direction, N. bound. Strange that anyone would be lost on a motorcycle as that time in the morning. And within about three minutes, the fucker was coming by again, having circled the block again. Someone must know better than me that I loathe the sound of large Harley Davidson motorcycles, but why are they so persistent with this bullshit? It is exceedingly rare to see large cruising motorcycles at this time of year, January, in the first place. I haven't quite seen anything so blatantly obvious as this before on the vehicular gangstalking side, but some of the ambulatory gangstalking is getting absurd.
The pit lamping crew of two nights ago when I took the city bus to my first class was back again this morning, sitting in the bus lane which they aren't supposed to do, and pretending they were working by sitting in their vehicle on a Saturday morning at 0820h or so. Eventually they moved their oversized service vehicle off, but not before a senseless twit drove their black SUV along the bus stalls when the lane was marked or buses only. The vehicular curb crawl might be known to other TI's, though possibly in different forms, maybe in a solicitation guise.
And just for me it seems in this eco-conscious town, the assholes had at least one third of all the outdoor night time lights on. All manner of buildings kept their mercury vapor or sodium lights on. At the college where I had my all day class, some 16 sodium arc lamps were on at the entrance way all day. It boggles the mind as to how much effort they devote to this insane harassment bullshit, but they are persistent if nothing else.
2055h
Just like old times; an overhead ceiling floor whacking with a simultaneous zapping that sent me into a screaming rage. Someone did this right over top of me, and I had been formerly in the kitchen 8' away, cracking the rest of the hazelnuts that is going to become my dinner in a few days once the refried beans get used up. And while in the kitchen I was getting overhead rumbling and thundering, but not a the sudden shock and fry level that got me so enraged. Funny how they know where I am, and funny that they pulled these noises/attacks that they haven't used much in the past year. And all over spending an hour cracking the hazelnuts that were purchased 09-2009, and in fact were a 2008 harvest.
The perps are still having me soak the hazelnuts for a week before eating them, as this seems to be a big deal for them. What it does is change the internal composition of the nut and makes the sugars more availible and lessens the toxins, not unlike malting barley. (Except that they stop the germination and then cook the grain to crystallize the sugars. Anyhow, you can read all about soaking nuts from the raw food folks at this link
2325h
Why is it that the font on this Blogspot edit window keep changing? Anyhow, another forced "forget" over turning on the burner with a just-filled kettle of water intended for tea making. I was screamingly infuriated with this stunt as it has been happening about 30% of the time for the past three weeks and I am sick fed up of playing this dumbshit disruption game. They have their "issues" with the red lights on the stove that denote a burner is on, as they do with a similar red light on the power bar for this here PC. The converse is also true, having me "forget" and leave them on, and in the case of the stove, I scream at them if this "happens". Is this some kind of run up to burn the place down, or is it the rambo sickies out of control?
Getting me pissed off was the precursor to reminding me that I needed to head out to the grocery store after tea and chocolate. A crowd of 20 Fuckwit Yobos was hollaring outside, heard through tea time, and lo, if there weren't there on the street when headed to the local supermarket. They were gathered outside a restaurant for whatever reason, presumably in the service of the Fuckwits, as this bullshit has happened before, and been just as obviously staged. In 2002 they pulled this bullshit below my apartment window and it was on private property, and "happened" to be staged when I had a Gaussmeter in hand for the first time, haven just arrived. Later the Fuckwit Herd moved up the street to partially trace my outbound steps, and loiter within 10' of me taking the alternate route to avoid said Herd.
And for once the assholes had only a small crew in the supermarket; a brown skinned native Indian male was hounding me, "showing up" in advance of where I was to be at least twice, as was another male Fuckwit. One has to laugh though, as it would be about the last grocery store a native Indian would shop at, given that it is more high end, and the dearth of them in this neighborhood. Not to indulge in stereotyping too much, but he did look ridiculous while pretend shopping, putting his hand to his chin as if in study mode. I was full of brown chocolate, and that just might have been the reason for the brown skinned gangstalker, but who knows. Me, least of all.
Enough purging my vexations on today's Fuckover Force reportage, and off to post this.
An interesting link (a book, titled Nieper - Conversion of Gravity Field Energy - Revolution in Technology, Medicine and Society (1985)), for those that follow the unconventional energy concepts. Illuminating to learn that these inventors and leading thinkers were also hounded by kooks to the point of murder (Moray), suicided before divulging their secrets (Hendershot), and cancered (Bruce de Palma, - not in this book). One interesting aside in this book was Wilheim Reich, who personally contacted Einstein and showed him a 4C degree difference between inside his orgone (free energy) accumulator and outside of it got shafted by Einstein who never talked to him again. As far as I know, Tesla and TT Brown lived to old age, one of the few in what I suspect is a highly managed physics field. More of the conspiracy stuff...
But what I find interesting is that the neutrino bath we live in, is also called the Tachyon Field, and it is assigned gravitational properties. I haven't finished reading the book yet, but it is readable and not theory fraught, where I usually check out, or more like, my tormentors make sure I don't learn theory.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Early Noise Assault
0900h
The noise barrage started early this morning, before getting up at 0630h. Once up, I looked out for road traffic, and for the most part there was none. Not even the trucks and buses that made up for the apparent noise sources. The sickos had me especially cranked up about it, and then kept up the annoyances while making and eating breakfast. The usual stunts; faked noise of no ostensible cause, pulling the peanut butter off the knife, imposed finger fumbling, pulling items from my grasp, sending me to the wrong drawer or item, flicking water from no apparent source and the like. Only forty rage-ifications worth before heading to the bathroom for the shower, shave and dental hygiene routine, whereupon another twenty rage-fications were inflicted. The most gratuitous was whacking me in the dick with no apparent source. Typically, towel drying is used as an excuse to whack me, but I am now allowed to habitually control the loose end of the towel in daily anticipation of this insane stunt, and today was the same; the towel wasn't even applied in that particular region, wasn't even in motion, and then today, some unseen force field whacked me in the dick. Just like the towel games of years back. And the new razor blade today was allowed to cut cleanly, not always the case. But given the amount of perp interest in shaving every day, and the increasing abuse each day while this activity progresses, I was not surprised to see some 15 or so bleeding "cuts" on my torso, part of the shaving regimen. These are inflicted lesions, usually ovoid in shape, and erupt a few minutes after shaving and without any apparent source. They are not shaving cuts, as no pain or sensation occured when the razor was passing over, and are not the shape of a razor nick. And, it is nearly impossible to cut oneself with a modern day safety razor, and I am doing nothing odd to cause it to "happen". I suspect there are a few aims involved in this 5x weekly bloodletting; bringing various different blood sources to the skin surface; deep red unoxygenated blood and bright red blood side by side from the inflicted surficial lesions just doesn't compute. The second objective is probably the study of the trace absorption of the stypic pencil content, (anhydrous aluminum sulfate), how I staunch the blood lesions each time. And it has been noted in past blog postings that the sickos can prevent the stypic pencil from acting if they want, say, a 20 minute bloodletting to continue unabated, save applying pressure to the wound. (I have had spontaneous late evening time blood surges from a pore in my nose (no shaving association), whereby the blood is arranged to be exactly in my peripherial vision, and a stypic pencil will not work for some reason, only consistently applied pressure after some 20 minutes). Anyhow, perhaps this is all a warm up before I walk the gangstalker gauntlet into downtown, a whole two blocks, and deposit my paycheck as well as get more quarters for the laundry machine. Regular readers will know that financial transactions of any kind, including loading said quarters in the laundry machines, will be noisestalked, gangstalked or otherwise perturbed for some arcane but relentless benefit for the sickos. Just another morning in fucking living hell.
1145h
I did the gangstalk gauntlet; the usual freakshow and then the dayglo shirted woman holding the coffee cup in front of her, (aka, Coffee Corps member) inserted herself 10' in front of me just when the dayglo orange spots on the sidewalk started, about every 5' to 10' or so, for some 60' of sidewalk. That is, until I walked past her and then had the dudes' obstacle course, all five with turned backs and presenting a circituitous path to get past as they had staggered themselves across the 8' of sidewalk, all outside the bus shelter, and seemingly waiting for the bus. I got to the teller with the blue streak in her black hair, and then some matching blue on her clothing, and got my rolls of coins and deposited the paycheck. The Hispanic or Asian gangstalking male seems to be featured more often of late, and having one arrive at the next bank teller seems to replicate my experiences of yesterday on the city bus freakshow. No big deal, and I was out of the bank fast enough to witness "camping season" parked at the yellow line at the adjacent and busiest pedestrain intersections, Fort and Douglas streets. Then another 20' camper joined it in the adjacent traffic lane to be in place when the pedestrian traffic control changed for me and and my accumulated gangstalkers to pass in front of both of them. I had a mid-block attractive blonde woman gangstalker, and then the freaks (Unfavored demographic group members), filed in behind her; the dayglo dressed, the arm flinging males, the skinhead males, the vagrant males, big hats, careening walkers and a few others. Then a male blue gut (shirt) strut where I made the corner, also on Coffee Corps duty, and it was the full meal deal; freakshow a la carte. And while waiting at last pedestrian crossing on my way back, another MIB holding coffee cup in hand (again), who arrived soundlessly behind me, an increasing trait these days. For one of the few times in three years I didn't have a Monday shit (yesterday), so that might explain why the assholes were so heavy on the brown coffee packing this morning. One never quite knows for sure as they are working so many simultaneous themes. I wonder if their gangtalkers are "shit coordinated", as in having bowel movements coordinated with mine? And too, maybe their food intake.
And part of the fuckery is to make sure that I am extra reactive, as in mind-controlled "response" to the freaks, especially male skinheads of late. They are working this theme assiduously of late; not only the shiny pate style, but also moderated with 1/4" buzzcut to give the same head shape a softer reflection and coarser reflection lines. I had a three times reprising male skinhead last night when walking back and in the grocery store; as a lead-ahead gangstalker, who then "happens" to meet his vagrant pals in a cluster, and chats to them while I pass by on W. bound directions, and then again in the grocery store, "happening" to pass me by this time on a S. bound direction. The orthogonality of the gangstalking is very important to the sickos, and in the most obvious scenarios the fuckers will circle me if they can. Or else, circle one of their own, such as the bizarre driving stunt of three months ago when one of them circled the other standing in one place in a parking lot with vehicle with an open door at least three times when I was waiting for someone to arrive. This was some 70' away and opposite the apartment building, and was one of the more spectacular pieces of orchestrated public idiocy I have seen to date. They arrived at the parking lot like they were buddies, and one gets in the vehicle and the other doesn't, and stands there for the other to circle him with the vehicle.
1625h
Another cock-up with the local TI who I am not sure about. I was to video her taking measurements on her EMF instruments but that plan got changed on me as she was obsessed over getting the images from her IR camera onto a TV and then to videotape. After an hour's tumult there was no cable to port from the IR detection scope to the video recorder. Then some chocolate covered cookies she insisted on before I departed, and lo, if there wasn't yet another heavy gangstalker show, many of them in mid-brown colors, not just the tentative light brown. The latter was the subject of much gangstalking when I had tea with milk in it, which I would of never had on my own, and consequent gangstalking by sickos when I departed. The entire deal seems to be a big gangstalker show after I exit the place.
1645h
More pictures from this afternoon's meter readings below. All taken today, 06-16-2009, readings are in milliWatts per m**2. The normal background level should be 7.0, and here we have readings over an order of magnitude higher. Readings of 1996 is close to the maximum on the meter, 2,000, and then the meter seems to get controlled within 20 seconds of so to a normal background level. Something is terribly strange about such high readings, even if supposedly momentary, which I don't think they are. Readings of 1,996 831, 119 are highly anomalous in my expectations, though if someone knows something I don't, let me know. The latter two pictures show the two differing kinds of aerials/sensors that can be mounted on the power density flux meter; the glass and LED tipped (strange too) gigahertz aerial to 2Ghz, and the "tree" aerial which measures Mhz frequencies. The extra arm on the Ghz aerial has a variable slider which can be used to sample specific frequencies.
2100h
More recollections from the bank visit this morning. The teller had black hair with a 2" blue streak in it, and bare arms with at least a 100 slash marks on them, healed 1 to 3" healed scars that were parallel, all the way up her forearm to past her elbow. If that wasn't freaky enough, there was a sudden maser/plasma event in front of her that was placed over her scars which acted like anchoring points (lines actually) for the striated maser/plasma beams that were parallel. That is the best I can describe it, as it only lasted a few seconds or so, but it seemed that the astonishing parallel scar lines on both arms were for the purposes of matching to a maser/plasma pattern (striated and parallel) that was expanded beyond her arms to 12" either side of them, covering her front. The blue hair streak was a little odd, but I really didn't think anything of it until I get back to my place and a same blue plasma beam "arrived" in front of my door as I was putting the key in the lock.
Two guitar stalker dudes in the last partial block before I got back to my place. They were seemingly indendent, but there were at least two yesterday in differing gangstalk scenarios, bus and later a vagrant act with a grocery cart. I wonder why all these troubadors are erupting around me? And I see some are now slinging electric guitars in cases instead of acoustic guitars. I wonder why.
Some minor bullshit at the cleaning job tonight; I used the quieter vacuum cleaner to clean some 20' away from the nearest customer and then only for some 20 seconds or so, before shutting it down. The Sales manager came out to say that there was customers everywhere so could I refrain from using it. I complied, as I have been vigilant in the past about how close I should be if vacuuming. Anyhow, the boss man later asks me to dry mop the hallway and I ask him where to sweep it too, as the vacuum cleaner is needed to suck it all up after the moppings have been concentrated in one location. I duly comply, and run the vacuum cleaner for all of 10 seconds to get rid of the moppings and a Salesman is all over me. So, anyhow, it wasn't a big angst issue, but I have to wonder why the boss man set me up to violate the Sales manager's request, which I had told him about. I suspect I will hear more about it tomorrow and the start time for the job might be delayed by 30 minutes, very possibly to catch the sun directly in my face in the W. when I finish up. The perps make no end of this scenario, often placing their Unfavored gangstalkers to be highly backlit so I only make out the merest of features. And perhaps it will facilitate me to do a day job somewhere. We shall see.
The other odd thing going on at the part time cleaning job is that the boss man has long contended it is a 1.5 hour job, and that he resents that the Sales manager wants to only pay for a 1.0 hour job (x2, for 2.0 manhours). But of late, the boss man has been coming for only 45 minutes, which is most strange as why would he purposely work shorter hours if he is attempting the manager he needs to work for longer? Just another oddity along the way, and I suspect it has more to do with the perp's agenda and who they want to gangstalk me with, for how long, where and the rest of the myriad of variables they maintain on my behalf.
I did have one of the staff on me for at least 5x tonight, gangstalking or otherwise preceding me to my next intended location. It is fucking bizarre to have all these assholes knowing where one is going next. Then this bullshit played out again with a gangstalker dude arriving in a vehicle ahead of me by 15' and then leading me into the LD store. I split and looked for other items, and when I went to the Rx counter he was there. He gets his Rx in a minute or so, and then departs for the last time. I cannot get over how many gangstalkers are covering me for sometimes 100's of feet on-street distance and then keep showing up at my destination. It would seem the sickos are looking for some outside to inside (or vice versa) gangstalker continuity. Much like the boss man is batting .950 for "showing up" at the same grocery store after the cleaning job as I am.
2145h
Here is a gimme that tells me what the perps are working on, or perhaps have even finished up; If The Shoe Flits, Duck: Real-life Example Of Humans' Dual Vision System. Or more correctly, Threat Assessment is separate from one's vision system. I knew that some time ago as the perps keep working on feigning threat assessment by having their thuggy weirds coming toward me and then turning back for some bizarre reason. Almost all of them aren't looking at me when doing this, but looking past me at absolutely nothing. I predict they will start on the threatening looks before long. A quote from the article;
"There is no way the brain can possibly process and analyze everything we are exposed to. We have to select what is important. In the real world you are on your own and what you pay attention to is part of survival. This experiment shows that threatening stimuli grab your attention, even those we can't consciously identify. That this is more accurate than our conscious perception is pretty amazing."
Well duh; after being hounded for over seven years by beserk assholes with an amoury that is out of Star Wars, one gets very threat sensitive. And if there are the 50 year old putative childhood traumatizations that the assholes couldn't erase entirely until the past year, then the fuckers are dutybound to put on these feigned threats and jerkarounds until they have figured out how deep they carved the traumatizations. Just leave me the fuck alone and fill up the bank account. Fucking now is long overdue.
Did I post this link earlier and get mindfucked out of my normal recollections? I might have as there has been other such events this week, but here is the link (again), and is by a TI whoe is very much fucking fed up, like all of us. Electronic Harassment is a Hate Crime. It is worse than that; it is depraved invasion down to one's thoughts, and autonomic body processes for nonconsensual gain. They called this concentration camp once upon a time, but even then, they didn't go that far, or at least overtly. It is my sneaking suspicion that past (and current) wars are nothing but a wide-scale perp nonconsensual experimentation show, obviously in more violent form, and often life terminating. And here we get all this alien talk (nonsense, IMHO) about how humans are so violent and they need to be dociled to be cooperative on a permanent basis. And who might of fomented these conflicts for ulterior motives in the first place? That was my little conspiracy rant for the month, and I don't usually go there, but every so often I am somehow compelled to do so.
2230h
Another perp "dropping"; tunable colors by magnetic interaction. Like so what; all day I deal with an imposed perversion of the entire physicality of my existence, usually with malevolent intent and adverse outcome, and I am supposed to find such "nano-putzing" interesting?
2240h
More ponderings of the earlier visit to the TI and the cross purposes confusion as to what was to be accomplished and then finding out it couldn't be done in any event as a vital porting cable was lost. Is she a perp's cooperating TI, or is she a total quisling, or is she a controlled plant? I don't know, but offering me two tone brown/chocolate cookies before I departed smacks of deliberate perp arrangement. I thought I had this one done with, as in having no more contact, but then she bought all those interesting instruments and the EMF detection they offered that you have seen in today's pictures, and from last week. Enough rambling about cookies and the rest of it, maybe I should call it off for good.
This one is done, and onto whatever fuckover games and stunts that are scripted. And as I typed that, a total tab/site change was imposed by other means than me, or any keystroke sabotage.
The noise barrage started early this morning, before getting up at 0630h. Once up, I looked out for road traffic, and for the most part there was none. Not even the trucks and buses that made up for the apparent noise sources. The sickos had me especially cranked up about it, and then kept up the annoyances while making and eating breakfast. The usual stunts; faked noise of no ostensible cause, pulling the peanut butter off the knife, imposed finger fumbling, pulling items from my grasp, sending me to the wrong drawer or item, flicking water from no apparent source and the like. Only forty rage-ifications worth before heading to the bathroom for the shower, shave and dental hygiene routine, whereupon another twenty rage-fications were inflicted. The most gratuitous was whacking me in the dick with no apparent source. Typically, towel drying is used as an excuse to whack me, but I am now allowed to habitually control the loose end of the towel in daily anticipation of this insane stunt, and today was the same; the towel wasn't even applied in that particular region, wasn't even in motion, and then today, some unseen force field whacked me in the dick. Just like the towel games of years back. And the new razor blade today was allowed to cut cleanly, not always the case. But given the amount of perp interest in shaving every day, and the increasing abuse each day while this activity progresses, I was not surprised to see some 15 or so bleeding "cuts" on my torso, part of the shaving regimen. These are inflicted lesions, usually ovoid in shape, and erupt a few minutes after shaving and without any apparent source. They are not shaving cuts, as no pain or sensation occured when the razor was passing over, and are not the shape of a razor nick. And, it is nearly impossible to cut oneself with a modern day safety razor, and I am doing nothing odd to cause it to "happen". I suspect there are a few aims involved in this 5x weekly bloodletting; bringing various different blood sources to the skin surface; deep red unoxygenated blood and bright red blood side by side from the inflicted surficial lesions just doesn't compute. The second objective is probably the study of the trace absorption of the stypic pencil content, (anhydrous aluminum sulfate), how I staunch the blood lesions each time. And it has been noted in past blog postings that the sickos can prevent the stypic pencil from acting if they want, say, a 20 minute bloodletting to continue unabated, save applying pressure to the wound. (I have had spontaneous late evening time blood surges from a pore in my nose (no shaving association), whereby the blood is arranged to be exactly in my peripherial vision, and a stypic pencil will not work for some reason, only consistently applied pressure after some 20 minutes). Anyhow, perhaps this is all a warm up before I walk the gangstalker gauntlet into downtown, a whole two blocks, and deposit my paycheck as well as get more quarters for the laundry machine. Regular readers will know that financial transactions of any kind, including loading said quarters in the laundry machines, will be noisestalked, gangstalked or otherwise perturbed for some arcane but relentless benefit for the sickos. Just another morning in fucking living hell.
1145h
I did the gangstalk gauntlet; the usual freakshow and then the dayglo shirted woman holding the coffee cup in front of her, (aka, Coffee Corps member) inserted herself 10' in front of me just when the dayglo orange spots on the sidewalk started, about every 5' to 10' or so, for some 60' of sidewalk. That is, until I walked past her and then had the dudes' obstacle course, all five with turned backs and presenting a circituitous path to get past as they had staggered themselves across the 8' of sidewalk, all outside the bus shelter, and seemingly waiting for the bus. I got to the teller with the blue streak in her black hair, and then some matching blue on her clothing, and got my rolls of coins and deposited the paycheck. The Hispanic or Asian gangstalking male seems to be featured more often of late, and having one arrive at the next bank teller seems to replicate my experiences of yesterday on the city bus freakshow. No big deal, and I was out of the bank fast enough to witness "camping season" parked at the yellow line at the adjacent and busiest pedestrain intersections, Fort and Douglas streets. Then another 20' camper joined it in the adjacent traffic lane to be in place when the pedestrian traffic control changed for me and and my accumulated gangstalkers to pass in front of both of them. I had a mid-block attractive blonde woman gangstalker, and then the freaks (Unfavored demographic group members), filed in behind her; the dayglo dressed, the arm flinging males, the skinhead males, the vagrant males, big hats, careening walkers and a few others. Then a male blue gut (shirt) strut where I made the corner, also on Coffee Corps duty, and it was the full meal deal; freakshow a la carte. And while waiting at last pedestrian crossing on my way back, another MIB holding coffee cup in hand (again), who arrived soundlessly behind me, an increasing trait these days. For one of the few times in three years I didn't have a Monday shit (yesterday), so that might explain why the assholes were so heavy on the brown coffee packing this morning. One never quite knows for sure as they are working so many simultaneous themes. I wonder if their gangtalkers are "shit coordinated", as in having bowel movements coordinated with mine? And too, maybe their food intake.
And part of the fuckery is to make sure that I am extra reactive, as in mind-controlled "response" to the freaks, especially male skinheads of late. They are working this theme assiduously of late; not only the shiny pate style, but also moderated with 1/4" buzzcut to give the same head shape a softer reflection and coarser reflection lines. I had a three times reprising male skinhead last night when walking back and in the grocery store; as a lead-ahead gangstalker, who then "happens" to meet his vagrant pals in a cluster, and chats to them while I pass by on W. bound directions, and then again in the grocery store, "happening" to pass me by this time on a S. bound direction. The orthogonality of the gangstalking is very important to the sickos, and in the most obvious scenarios the fuckers will circle me if they can. Or else, circle one of their own, such as the bizarre driving stunt of three months ago when one of them circled the other standing in one place in a parking lot with vehicle with an open door at least three times when I was waiting for someone to arrive. This was some 70' away and opposite the apartment building, and was one of the more spectacular pieces of orchestrated public idiocy I have seen to date. They arrived at the parking lot like they were buddies, and one gets in the vehicle and the other doesn't, and stands there for the other to circle him with the vehicle.
1625h
Another cock-up with the local TI who I am not sure about. I was to video her taking measurements on her EMF instruments but that plan got changed on me as she was obsessed over getting the images from her IR camera onto a TV and then to videotape. After an hour's tumult there was no cable to port from the IR detection scope to the video recorder. Then some chocolate covered cookies she insisted on before I departed, and lo, if there wasn't yet another heavy gangstalker show, many of them in mid-brown colors, not just the tentative light brown. The latter was the subject of much gangstalking when I had tea with milk in it, which I would of never had on my own, and consequent gangstalking by sickos when I departed. The entire deal seems to be a big gangstalker show after I exit the place.
1645h
More pictures from this afternoon's meter readings below. All taken today, 06-16-2009, readings are in milliWatts per m**2. The normal background level should be 7.0, and here we have readings over an order of magnitude higher. Readings of 1996 is close to the maximum on the meter, 2,000, and then the meter seems to get controlled within 20 seconds of so to a normal background level. Something is terribly strange about such high readings, even if supposedly momentary, which I don't think they are. Readings of 1,996 831, 119 are highly anomalous in my expectations, though if someone knows something I don't, let me know. The latter two pictures show the two differing kinds of aerials/sensors that can be mounted on the power density flux meter; the glass and LED tipped (strange too) gigahertz aerial to 2Ghz, and the "tree" aerial which measures Mhz frequencies. The extra arm on the Ghz aerial has a variable slider which can be used to sample specific frequencies.
2100h
More recollections from the bank visit this morning. The teller had black hair with a 2" blue streak in it, and bare arms with at least a 100 slash marks on them, healed 1 to 3" healed scars that were parallel, all the way up her forearm to past her elbow. If that wasn't freaky enough, there was a sudden maser/plasma event in front of her that was placed over her scars which acted like anchoring points (lines actually) for the striated maser/plasma beams that were parallel. That is the best I can describe it, as it only lasted a few seconds or so, but it seemed that the astonishing parallel scar lines on both arms were for the purposes of matching to a maser/plasma pattern (striated and parallel) that was expanded beyond her arms to 12" either side of them, covering her front. The blue hair streak was a little odd, but I really didn't think anything of it until I get back to my place and a same blue plasma beam "arrived" in front of my door as I was putting the key in the lock.
Two guitar stalker dudes in the last partial block before I got back to my place. They were seemingly indendent, but there were at least two yesterday in differing gangstalk scenarios, bus and later a vagrant act with a grocery cart. I wonder why all these troubadors are erupting around me? And I see some are now slinging electric guitars in cases instead of acoustic guitars. I wonder why.
Some minor bullshit at the cleaning job tonight; I used the quieter vacuum cleaner to clean some 20' away from the nearest customer and then only for some 20 seconds or so, before shutting it down. The Sales manager came out to say that there was customers everywhere so could I refrain from using it. I complied, as I have been vigilant in the past about how close I should be if vacuuming. Anyhow, the boss man later asks me to dry mop the hallway and I ask him where to sweep it too, as the vacuum cleaner is needed to suck it all up after the moppings have been concentrated in one location. I duly comply, and run the vacuum cleaner for all of 10 seconds to get rid of the moppings and a Salesman is all over me. So, anyhow, it wasn't a big angst issue, but I have to wonder why the boss man set me up to violate the Sales manager's request, which I had told him about. I suspect I will hear more about it tomorrow and the start time for the job might be delayed by 30 minutes, very possibly to catch the sun directly in my face in the W. when I finish up. The perps make no end of this scenario, often placing their Unfavored gangstalkers to be highly backlit so I only make out the merest of features. And perhaps it will facilitate me to do a day job somewhere. We shall see.
The other odd thing going on at the part time cleaning job is that the boss man has long contended it is a 1.5 hour job, and that he resents that the Sales manager wants to only pay for a 1.0 hour job (x2, for 2.0 manhours). But of late, the boss man has been coming for only 45 minutes, which is most strange as why would he purposely work shorter hours if he is attempting the manager he needs to work for longer? Just another oddity along the way, and I suspect it has more to do with the perp's agenda and who they want to gangstalk me with, for how long, where and the rest of the myriad of variables they maintain on my behalf.
I did have one of the staff on me for at least 5x tonight, gangstalking or otherwise preceding me to my next intended location. It is fucking bizarre to have all these assholes knowing where one is going next. Then this bullshit played out again with a gangstalker dude arriving in a vehicle ahead of me by 15' and then leading me into the LD store. I split and looked for other items, and when I went to the Rx counter he was there. He gets his Rx in a minute or so, and then departs for the last time. I cannot get over how many gangstalkers are covering me for sometimes 100's of feet on-street distance and then keep showing up at my destination. It would seem the sickos are looking for some outside to inside (or vice versa) gangstalker continuity. Much like the boss man is batting .950 for "showing up" at the same grocery store after the cleaning job as I am.
2145h
Here is a gimme that tells me what the perps are working on, or perhaps have even finished up; If The Shoe Flits, Duck: Real-life Example Of Humans' Dual Vision System. Or more correctly, Threat Assessment is separate from one's vision system. I knew that some time ago as the perps keep working on feigning threat assessment by having their thuggy weirds coming toward me and then turning back for some bizarre reason. Almost all of them aren't looking at me when doing this, but looking past me at absolutely nothing. I predict they will start on the threatening looks before long. A quote from the article;
"There is no way the brain can possibly process and analyze everything we are exposed to. We have to select what is important. In the real world you are on your own and what you pay attention to is part of survival. This experiment shows that threatening stimuli grab your attention, even those we can't consciously identify. That this is more accurate than our conscious perception is pretty amazing."
Well duh; after being hounded for over seven years by beserk assholes with an amoury that is out of Star Wars, one gets very threat sensitive. And if there are the 50 year old putative childhood traumatizations that the assholes couldn't erase entirely until the past year, then the fuckers are dutybound to put on these feigned threats and jerkarounds until they have figured out how deep they carved the traumatizations. Just leave me the fuck alone and fill up the bank account. Fucking now is long overdue.
Did I post this link earlier and get mindfucked out of my normal recollections? I might have as there has been other such events this week, but here is the link (again), and is by a TI whoe is very much fucking fed up, like all of us. Electronic Harassment is a Hate Crime. It is worse than that; it is depraved invasion down to one's thoughts, and autonomic body processes for nonconsensual gain. They called this concentration camp once upon a time, but even then, they didn't go that far, or at least overtly. It is my sneaking suspicion that past (and current) wars are nothing but a wide-scale perp nonconsensual experimentation show, obviously in more violent form, and often life terminating. And here we get all this alien talk (nonsense, IMHO) about how humans are so violent and they need to be dociled to be cooperative on a permanent basis. And who might of fomented these conflicts for ulterior motives in the first place? That was my little conspiracy rant for the month, and I don't usually go there, but every so often I am somehow compelled to do so.
2230h
Another perp "dropping"; tunable colors by magnetic interaction. Like so what; all day I deal with an imposed perversion of the entire physicality of my existence, usually with malevolent intent and adverse outcome, and I am supposed to find such "nano-putzing" interesting?
2240h
More ponderings of the earlier visit to the TI and the cross purposes confusion as to what was to be accomplished and then finding out it couldn't be done in any event as a vital porting cable was lost. Is she a perp's cooperating TI, or is she a total quisling, or is she a controlled plant? I don't know, but offering me two tone brown/chocolate cookies before I departed smacks of deliberate perp arrangement. I thought I had this one done with, as in having no more contact, but then she bought all those interesting instruments and the EMF detection they offered that you have seen in today's pictures, and from last week. Enough rambling about cookies and the rest of it, maybe I should call it off for good.
This one is done, and onto whatever fuckover games and stunts that are scripted. And as I typed that, a total tab/site change was imposed by other means than me, or any keystroke sabotage.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Downtown Gangstalk
1540h
It was another major gangstalk event; I was with my mother one of her visits to get tea at a discount at a particular store. I could write pages on all the fuckery and feints, but suffice to say, the perps were more aggressive about gangstaking and setting up stunts to walk between us. And, almost without exception, they kept up with sidewalk obstructions of having their fuckers walking three and four abreast, and the usual consequent dances of avoiding ambulatory collisions.
It was the leather jackets day, a more predominant article of clothing of late, most often in black, but occasionally brown, and the odd red, navy blue or green. And I saw the most absurd leather coat; a classy three quarter length black leather coat, with a leather hoodie on top! And the operative had his hoodie up, and was hiding behind it. They put plenty of hoodie wearing gangstalkers on me in any given day, but having a leather hoodie was an all-time first.
And we went to the department store downtown for her to get Easter items to take on her upcomiong trip to visit my brother, wife and daughter. This involved going to the fifth floor to look at bicuits and chocolate, and there was plenty of the latter, the perp's main focus for me to eat a brown colored food item. Past readers will note that the perps have an abiding fixation on the color brown, and after removing most of it from my proximity, they are slowing introducing this color in the form of gangstalker garments and vehicles.
And it so "happened" the saleswoman who came by to "help" us, while two others only 8' away were "busy" on stocktaking (dressed in black and white), was the same woman who was the sales assistant in clothing store only 4 months ago, when my mother was looking for children's clothes. The sale assistant seems to be of Persian heritage, having an olive skin color and black hair, and speaks English well and is genuinely helpful. My mother says she didn't notice this "repeat" person, but that has to be a crock, as I never forget a face as long as my recall hasn't been fucked with, and she is the same.
We ate at the cafeteria at this department store, and lo, if the person in front of us didn't have three transaction "problems", and then "lose" her change, which was another crock of shit, as I saw her put it away. A full five minutes of waiting for all this bullshit to end. Then there was a parade of gangstalkers going by at the checkout only 6' away from our table, and they got busy on red dressed fuckers, then latterly, ones sampling various greens all at once; lime green, olive green, and blue green, dressed fuckers were all there at once. Then an asshole with a burgundy umbrella came to go through the adjacent checkout, then 20 minutes later he comes by just to stand there, and put on the sentry act. No rain, or hint of rain today either.
The final act of the cafeteria charade was to move the 4'w x 5'h x 2'd chocolate display some 10' closer toward our table, and then spinning it around, all for no intelligible reason, save those related to the perp's fixation on brown colored food items and that they seem to have some (auric?) leverage with chocolate. Anyhow, it was disgusting to see all those geriatric porkers wandering around, grey or white haired with a large protruding gut in the main. (And I just got noisestalked for writing this up).
2000h
The perps have me on a "later shift" tonight, eating at 1900h or so, as there was still plenty of daylight. I got the mid metallic blue pickup truck under my window to accompany me, and a spectrum of silver grey, mid red, navy blue and black in the W. side (35' away) of the parking lot that I see outside my window. It would seem that all these colors are being tested by the perps for dusk onset conditions. They seem to have a particular obsession with mid red colors at this time of day.
While I was driving to, and in, the downtown parkade in my mother's light metallic tan Ford Escape, at least 25% of the vehicles (six floors of a parkade) were red in color; the deep metallic red or a mid crimson red. They interspersed these with whites, silver greys, mid greys and black colored vehicles, with a few navy blues and greens in the mix. It is plain fucking nuts as to the degree of color arrangement the perps go through every day I go out.
Then when leaving, an aggressive Asian woman gangstalker walked between me and my mother only 4' away, and gets into her Volvo beside the Ford Escape, and takes off from the passenger side, where my mother was still getting in. Past readers will know that Volvos are favored gangstalk vehicles because I owned them for over two decades, and only gave it up last year to my daughter. I also think there is something about the chassis and body steel that if particularly favorable to the perps, as they also plant Saabs around me as well.
And so, when it came time to depart the parkade in the Escape, a same colored Ford Taurus "happened" to back out in front of us, and lead me down the six story helical exit ramp, and to the cashier. Fords have been family vehicles in the long past, and of course currently, the Escape.
There is no way with this degree of rabidity as to organizing colored objects around me, and the rest of the sick minded harassment and legions of gangstalkers, are the perps going to let me out of their electronic prison until they get all of what they want. (See my blogs on other, non-mind control, objectives, part 1, and part 2). I say this for my own benefit mostly, as I am getting bombarded with notions that they are going to cease hostilities soon. They have done this about three times a year for the past five years, and so I expend huge amounts of mental effort to refute this bullshit that they keep feeding me.
Anyhow, I have got the usual iterations of noise flurries tonight, and currently there is an all-quiet order out, as this putative rooming house is eerily silent.
Today's big afternoon activity was to check out an apartment block that is the one of "last resort" I am told. It comes with linoleum covered floors, and while I haven't submitted an application yet, it does have some vacancies. And given that my current (and putative) rooming house has an extra roll of carpet that "happens" to be sitting in the hallway for a day now, next to the 5 gallon pail of brown colored paint, I would surmise that the perps are having serious problems with figuring out the energetics of carpets and like floor coverings owing to my bioaccumulated pollutants, one prominent one being PBDE's. (These are fire retardants, polybrominated diphenyl ethers (PBDEs) ). The perps also placed a roll of carpet downtown for me and my mother to walk by, this one 4' away in a loading bay. So this rather desolate lino-on-concrete "social housing" tower just might be my next stop as my residence. And I have noticed that the perps like to utilize concrete buildings that are least 15 years old, as the steel takes a magnetic set from the Earth's magnetic field by then. And this place qualifies. This too shall pass one day, but not anytime soon; when the Iraq war ends, so shall this harassment in my estimation (see associated logic in above part 1 objectives link, and here).
2140h
Tonight's dinner was the same old tortillas again; the perps got me rage-ified again over cheese slicing, and the tortilla ingredients assembly at each stage. They simply will not let me place the cheese slices where I want, and with a minimum of effort. They flip cheese slices around, end over end, lateral spins and back flips, then have them fall apart in my hand, and then spread cheese crumbs about in locations where there was no cheese.
2315h
A rare quiet period over the past two hours, though the assholes kept up the vision impairment fuckery while I was attempting to read about alien abductions and the like.
Anyhow, enough to post, and blog off.
It was another major gangstalk event; I was with my mother one of her visits to get tea at a discount at a particular store. I could write pages on all the fuckery and feints, but suffice to say, the perps were more aggressive about gangstaking and setting up stunts to walk between us. And, almost without exception, they kept up with sidewalk obstructions of having their fuckers walking three and four abreast, and the usual consequent dances of avoiding ambulatory collisions.
It was the leather jackets day, a more predominant article of clothing of late, most often in black, but occasionally brown, and the odd red, navy blue or green. And I saw the most absurd leather coat; a classy three quarter length black leather coat, with a leather hoodie on top! And the operative had his hoodie up, and was hiding behind it. They put plenty of hoodie wearing gangstalkers on me in any given day, but having a leather hoodie was an all-time first.
And we went to the department store downtown for her to get Easter items to take on her upcomiong trip to visit my brother, wife and daughter. This involved going to the fifth floor to look at bicuits and chocolate, and there was plenty of the latter, the perp's main focus for me to eat a brown colored food item. Past readers will note that the perps have an abiding fixation on the color brown, and after removing most of it from my proximity, they are slowing introducing this color in the form of gangstalker garments and vehicles.
And it so "happened" the saleswoman who came by to "help" us, while two others only 8' away were "busy" on stocktaking (dressed in black and white), was the same woman who was the sales assistant in clothing store only 4 months ago, when my mother was looking for children's clothes. The sale assistant seems to be of Persian heritage, having an olive skin color and black hair, and speaks English well and is genuinely helpful. My mother says she didn't notice this "repeat" person, but that has to be a crock, as I never forget a face as long as my recall hasn't been fucked with, and she is the same.
We ate at the cafeteria at this department store, and lo, if the person in front of us didn't have three transaction "problems", and then "lose" her change, which was another crock of shit, as I saw her put it away. A full five minutes of waiting for all this bullshit to end. Then there was a parade of gangstalkers going by at the checkout only 6' away from our table, and they got busy on red dressed fuckers, then latterly, ones sampling various greens all at once; lime green, olive green, and blue green, dressed fuckers were all there at once. Then an asshole with a burgundy umbrella came to go through the adjacent checkout, then 20 minutes later he comes by just to stand there, and put on the sentry act. No rain, or hint of rain today either.
The final act of the cafeteria charade was to move the 4'w x 5'h x 2'd chocolate display some 10' closer toward our table, and then spinning it around, all for no intelligible reason, save those related to the perp's fixation on brown colored food items and that they seem to have some (auric?) leverage with chocolate. Anyhow, it was disgusting to see all those geriatric porkers wandering around, grey or white haired with a large protruding gut in the main. (And I just got noisestalked for writing this up).
2000h
The perps have me on a "later shift" tonight, eating at 1900h or so, as there was still plenty of daylight. I got the mid metallic blue pickup truck under my window to accompany me, and a spectrum of silver grey, mid red, navy blue and black in the W. side (35' away) of the parking lot that I see outside my window. It would seem that all these colors are being tested by the perps for dusk onset conditions. They seem to have a particular obsession with mid red colors at this time of day.
While I was driving to, and in, the downtown parkade in my mother's light metallic tan Ford Escape, at least 25% of the vehicles (six floors of a parkade) were red in color; the deep metallic red or a mid crimson red. They interspersed these with whites, silver greys, mid greys and black colored vehicles, with a few navy blues and greens in the mix. It is plain fucking nuts as to the degree of color arrangement the perps go through every day I go out.
Then when leaving, an aggressive Asian woman gangstalker walked between me and my mother only 4' away, and gets into her Volvo beside the Ford Escape, and takes off from the passenger side, where my mother was still getting in. Past readers will know that Volvos are favored gangstalk vehicles because I owned them for over two decades, and only gave it up last year to my daughter. I also think there is something about the chassis and body steel that if particularly favorable to the perps, as they also plant Saabs around me as well.
And so, when it came time to depart the parkade in the Escape, a same colored Ford Taurus "happened" to back out in front of us, and lead me down the six story helical exit ramp, and to the cashier. Fords have been family vehicles in the long past, and of course currently, the Escape.
There is no way with this degree of rabidity as to organizing colored objects around me, and the rest of the sick minded harassment and legions of gangstalkers, are the perps going to let me out of their electronic prison until they get all of what they want. (See my blogs on other, non-mind control, objectives, part 1, and part 2). I say this for my own benefit mostly, as I am getting bombarded with notions that they are going to cease hostilities soon. They have done this about three times a year for the past five years, and so I expend huge amounts of mental effort to refute this bullshit that they keep feeding me.
Anyhow, I have got the usual iterations of noise flurries tonight, and currently there is an all-quiet order out, as this putative rooming house is eerily silent.
Today's big afternoon activity was to check out an apartment block that is the one of "last resort" I am told. It comes with linoleum covered floors, and while I haven't submitted an application yet, it does have some vacancies. And given that my current (and putative) rooming house has an extra roll of carpet that "happens" to be sitting in the hallway for a day now, next to the 5 gallon pail of brown colored paint, I would surmise that the perps are having serious problems with figuring out the energetics of carpets and like floor coverings owing to my bioaccumulated pollutants, one prominent one being PBDE's. (These are fire retardants, polybrominated diphenyl ethers (PBDEs) ). The perps also placed a roll of carpet downtown for me and my mother to walk by, this one 4' away in a loading bay. So this rather desolate lino-on-concrete "social housing" tower just might be my next stop as my residence. And I have noticed that the perps like to utilize concrete buildings that are least 15 years old, as the steel takes a magnetic set from the Earth's magnetic field by then. And this place qualifies. This too shall pass one day, but not anytime soon; when the Iraq war ends, so shall this harassment in my estimation (see associated logic in above part 1 objectives link, and here).
2140h
Tonight's dinner was the same old tortillas again; the perps got me rage-ified again over cheese slicing, and the tortilla ingredients assembly at each stage. They simply will not let me place the cheese slices where I want, and with a minimum of effort. They flip cheese slices around, end over end, lateral spins and back flips, then have them fall apart in my hand, and then spread cheese crumbs about in locations where there was no cheese.
2315h
A rare quiet period over the past two hours, though the assholes kept up the vision impairment fuckery while I was attempting to read about alien abductions and the like.
Anyhow, enough to post, and blog off.
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