1210h
My second hard drive arrived via courier today, the indentical model and size to that of the one previously of the same order. And identical to one inside my Windows drive. There would of been a fourth one, save the fact it was an RMA replacement, and it "happened" to be 750Gb instead of the 640Gb of the other three. So that is five WD Caviar Black drives circulating in the last two weeks, including the RMA one. One was in my mother's PC and it failed, which was replaced by one I "happened" to have waiting for my removable rack to arrive. So the one that was waiting here got put in my mother's PC, and I ordered an RMA drive that turned out to be 750Gb instead of 640Gb. Within the week, I took my PC into get the removable hard drive rack installed, and within a few days the RMA replacement arrived, and I started my tentative Linux forays with the 75)Gb drive on its own rack tray. Within a week, the backup panic started up, so I ordered two more hard drives to back up each of the Windows and Linux drives. Except that the one order for the two drives, which included a new router, got split up for unknown reasons, and one hard drive arrived per box. Got all that?
That wasn't all of course, as each hard drive was wrapped in bubble wrap, but no ordinary bubble wrap. It was a red tinted translucent colored bubble wrap, exactly the color and translucency that I cannot stand. The perps have long been stalking me with red plastic bag bearing Fuckwits, and even placed a same colored condom on the walkway of my residence building that stayed in place for over a week. (It seemed then, as now, I was the only resident). And today, for the single hard drive in the box, why, two kinds of bubble wrap; the same red of the kind that was used in wrapping the first hard drive, and a larger celled bubble wrap that was a lighter toned pink-red. Which begs the question; what on earth is it about red, and translucent red fabrics that the perps are gonzo insane over, and why do they need to hound me for close to eight years to expose me to it? And even going as far as to wrap up magnetic rotational media, hard drives, in this same color and substance? As regular readers will know, I am constantly bombarded with magnetic fields, measured over 1600 Gauss last year, and have a constant array of black masers and plasma beams drifting or flitting about in my vision and proximity. (Both are magnetically controlled phenomenon).
So it would seem that the perps have a particular and abidding interest in translucent red colored plastic, and have decided to up the ante by wrapping it with rotational magnetic media in the form of hard drives. And it might be that the red color and material energies, if you believe in these, are now exposed to the hard drives, which might be furthered by rotating them at 7200rpm, and that some kind of interaction benefits and/or discoveries are expected from this blatant product shipping intrusion? If I don't like translucent red fabrics, and especially plastic, then why in the fuck is it of anyone's business but my own, and why all these setups for close to eight years now? And who is that knows more about me and how much I don't like translucent red colored fabrics? I never knew this until it became obvious, and I never had any reaction before, and now it is instant revulsion?
1535h
Not more than 150' away is the local supermarket, but what a freakshow getting there. One ponytail male, then a fuzzy haired and fuzzy faced guy, then the negro from yoga who pretended not to notice me, eyes averted to the side while walking straight ahead. That was approaching the sidewalk and then crossing on it. Then waiting at the same intersection, a dude in a skull and crossbones toque who jumped the walk signal and wanted to be seen, then pulls off his toque to reveal as disgusting clean shaven pate, aka, a skinhead. Plenty of Fuckwits closing in on me at the store entrance, and then once in, the wandering and shiftless male in short getting in my way. I was glad to be done with that exercise, all in the name of chocolate, as in getting more supplies due to this imposed "habit".
That is all the news today, as I will be staying at the First Feral Family home tonight to then drive my mother to the airport early in the morning, and join the commuting hordes on Highway 17. And the PC might be down as I may get the hard drives installed then.
Showing posts with label red plastic bag stalking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label red plastic bag stalking. Show all posts
Monday, April 05, 2010
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Post Christmas Constipation Blues
12-29-2009
1645h
Back at my apartment building after a six day stayover at the First Feral Family home. Not that it was planned by me to be that long, as I intended for it to be some three days or so. But as the weather was so gloriously sunny, there was time to get onto cash paying grounds maintenance activities. Building the compost, a 4' high by 4' square stack of leaves, shredded leaves, household compostables and other plant material. It was layered with soil and an accelerant to get it composting, likely some months from now as it is too cold for much of this biologic activity that the perps are so vitally interested in. I had my usual suburbia noise accompaniments; overhead aircraft buzzing around, senseless diesel engine idling from two neighbors, whine from a nearby leaf blower, dog barking, children screaming and the hotrod muffler noise that has been so popular this year. They even put on a Saanich municipality fire truck emergency (just the one truck oddly) on Boxing Day, Dec. 26 no less, sirens and lights, and then returning about an hour later. In the long running parade of ladder bearing gangstalker vehicles, that is of course the largest one, and no doubt it serves extra duty to have the sirens and lights going simultaneously.
Regular readers will know that the 2009 compost building at the First Feral Family home was a success, and that weekly watering of the pile under the plastic tarp was essential. Not that I know much about composting, but I know more now, and it surely cannot be a coincidence that Ms. C of the story, the prior girlfriend (albeit aggravating at times), secured her Composting Master's training at the Everett community college during the pre-04-2002 overt harassment days. Funny how she has been getting "mind share" this past week, planted of course. And my mother asked about her too. But no Christmas card this year, and probably a whole three emails from her all year (and I respond), and why would I care about such an obvious shill/operative when I haven't seen her since 2003? My mother said she has "moved on" when I said we exchange the odd emails, offering a rare opinion that may be one of those masked statements of portent. Or could it be total bullshit? One never knows, and there are some very persistent perp mind planted notions as to who she really might be, and linkages to other cast members of the pre-04-2002 overt harassment onset days. None that I want to get into for now.
I suppose the above mentioned large composting pile served as a kind of reference (outdoors to indoors) for the perps, though I am rather curious that it might be related to the same reasons they are so beserk over my food digestion. The active flora would be very different between the two decomposition types, not to mention the colors and interaction rate, but there might be some underlying commonality that escapes me (or that I am not allowed to know at the present).
While there I did some Boxing Day Sale shopping online, and that set the stage for toilet blocking games immediately following making an online financial transaction. (And have I mentioned how often I get harassed, gangstalked and noisestalked while making a financial transaction?). A new downstairs low flow toilet had been installed in the partially renovated bathroom, and lo, if it didn't back up immediately, and spawn itself into a four day job to then be only cleared by the addition of bleach. The toilet was unplungeable due to its irregular throat, and that made it extra difficult to deal with matters. Then the plumber's snake couldn't get through the convoluted waste pathway.
Over some five days, and it even foamed up for two days after putting bleach in it. Then the one upstairs "self cleaned" with bleach too, as if in sympathy. And no end of mentioning the blocked toilet by my mother (putting on the ditz act), in "response" to everyone asking how the bathroom renovation was going, har, har. (Over the phone and in person). Then visitations from Feral Family and friends were arranged while said toilet was in a state of mess as it couldn't be plunged due to new low flush design. (it was through the wall from the living room and down a half storey).
One of my mother's friends and her partner (my mother's term) came over, all to roil me with the red and yellow perp color theme; one dressed with each color, plus ongoing sunlight/plasma and shade games to redden her face (wearing the red shirt) at times while talking to her, as if the shirt wasn't enough. This was during the pre-dusk time of 1500 to 1600h, a very common time where the perps put on their red color games. The visitors brought some items for gifts for my mother, in a freaking translucent red plastic bag that sat on the table outside the living room where we chatted for some two hours. And have I said how much I loathe the sight of translucent red plastics or rubber; and how often this particular color, material and light transmissive quality comes to bear as a prop in the gangtalking? The all time take-away on this one was the at the last residential apartment building I lived in from 05-2005 to 08-2006, 140 units, and they left a translucent red condom on the T-intersection of the walkway 6' outside the apartment block front doors for over a week, when the building grounds were groomed and cleaned at least three times per week. And for the last five days, the perps have been playing the image of the Goat's Head Soup album (Jagger with his head in a tight translucent yellowish plastic or rubber sheet) in mind for whatever reason. (I don't follow the Rolling Stones or their work much and there is no reason for such imagery to come to mind except by remotely invasive technology and with some theme in mind for which I have no conscious recollection).
Other major perp themes were eating way too many cakes and cookies, and they do like me to indulge in high gluten foods at times, and this was it for the year, a whole week of it, and I still have some to finish up at my place. Hopefully I can get back to healthy chocolate tomorrow and keep my 20lb weight loss permanent, one of 2009's rare side benefits.
Other slings and arrows of the past week were on Christmas Day when helping my mother cook the turkey, supplying the muscle to heft it and flip it as needed. Then carving, something the perps always love me to do, even here with the cooked chicken I purchase. I cleaned my mother's kitchen counter three times that day, as the place is always a fucking mess with crumbs and spatter on things. Even the Purell and the dish soap containers needed to be cleaned for crissakes. The perps had me in an obsessive overdrive about mess, crumbs and lint all day. And if that wasn't bad enough, my mother in her ditz act must of crossed my path or stood in my way of where I intended to place myself some 80 times; Christmas from hell, being gangstalked and obstructed at every move all fucking day. And if I temporarily vacated a place at the kitchen counter while in the service of aiding dinner (for six all told), then she was standing in the very place I had vacated only seconds following me. Not only in the kitchen, but in the living room when I needed to get up and exit for any reason. Fucking tiresome it was, and I only got some reprieve the next day, and that bullshit act slowly diminished to near "normal gangstalking" levels at the First Feral Family home.
2330h
I normally keep good track of my few regular food items, and lo, if I didn't "discover" tonight (the sirens are going as I type this up, heard through my earmuffs), that the milk was way past its date, and the perp routinely exploit this, often souring the milk days in advance. So..., a force play to have me go to the local supermarket at 2130h, a 10 minute round trip from my apartment. And lo, if the Unfavored freakshow wasn't there in muted form; the ponytailed dude who "needed" to hop off the curb at the same moment as me jaywalking to get this fucker out of my sight, and then he quickened his pace to a short run so I could see his ridiculous ponytail in profile in the dim light, and bums outside the supermarket, and then two negroes (back to live specimens after a week of the TV version, especially the mug of that attempted Nigerian bomber on the Christmas Day flight), one female giving me the stare lining me up as she arrived from behind an aisle corner, and then a male who was loitering at the one location I needed to go to, the freaking goat milk section, and then finally I went for the checkout through the gauntlet of gangstalkers in the produce section. I paid cash this time, two blue five dollar bills, and that too is exciting stuff for the Fuckwits and their ongoing consumption with the color of my wallet contents.
Anyhow, I am going to wrap this one up; a few adds to the Consolidated TI World Link List, as I have been going through accumulated bookmarks tonight. I save them in a general folder to come back to, and tonight when I bookmarked worthy sites for inclusion into my more specific folders, why, the link just disappeared all by itself from the general folder. It is not the first time this has happened, but having someone doing my deleting in advance of me doing it is decidedly petty and pathetic.
And they have been extra active tonight in running plasma beams over top of my hands as I typed this blog tonight; an irregular varying width red beam from a millimeter to six millimeters sits over top of my hands by an inch for at least four seconds, time enough to be plenty sure. Then other colors, most frequently navy blue plasma beams over my hands.
This is a relatively high disruption occasion for the perps, me returning from a week away at the First Feral Family home to the same routines. They cannot get enough of me at those moments, returning from an absence to do the same boring stuff I always do. Go figure.
1645h
Back at my apartment building after a six day stayover at the First Feral Family home. Not that it was planned by me to be that long, as I intended for it to be some three days or so. But as the weather was so gloriously sunny, there was time to get onto cash paying grounds maintenance activities. Building the compost, a 4' high by 4' square stack of leaves, shredded leaves, household compostables and other plant material. It was layered with soil and an accelerant to get it composting, likely some months from now as it is too cold for much of this biologic activity that the perps are so vitally interested in. I had my usual suburbia noise accompaniments; overhead aircraft buzzing around, senseless diesel engine idling from two neighbors, whine from a nearby leaf blower, dog barking, children screaming and the hotrod muffler noise that has been so popular this year. They even put on a Saanich municipality fire truck emergency (just the one truck oddly) on Boxing Day, Dec. 26 no less, sirens and lights, and then returning about an hour later. In the long running parade of ladder bearing gangstalker vehicles, that is of course the largest one, and no doubt it serves extra duty to have the sirens and lights going simultaneously.
Regular readers will know that the 2009 compost building at the First Feral Family home was a success, and that weekly watering of the pile under the plastic tarp was essential. Not that I know much about composting, but I know more now, and it surely cannot be a coincidence that Ms. C of the story, the prior girlfriend (albeit aggravating at times), secured her Composting Master's training at the Everett community college during the pre-04-2002 overt harassment days. Funny how she has been getting "mind share" this past week, planted of course. And my mother asked about her too. But no Christmas card this year, and probably a whole three emails from her all year (and I respond), and why would I care about such an obvious shill/operative when I haven't seen her since 2003? My mother said she has "moved on" when I said we exchange the odd emails, offering a rare opinion that may be one of those masked statements of portent. Or could it be total bullshit? One never knows, and there are some very persistent perp mind planted notions as to who she really might be, and linkages to other cast members of the pre-04-2002 overt harassment onset days. None that I want to get into for now.
I suppose the above mentioned large composting pile served as a kind of reference (outdoors to indoors) for the perps, though I am rather curious that it might be related to the same reasons they are so beserk over my food digestion. The active flora would be very different between the two decomposition types, not to mention the colors and interaction rate, but there might be some underlying commonality that escapes me (or that I am not allowed to know at the present).
I started this blog last night at the First Feral Family home, on a PC that was made up of my old PC's (11-2009) motherboard and power supply. The hard drive, graphics board and case were new in the re-build then. And for whatever reason, Blogspot/Blogger wasn't stripped out like this version at my place as I write this, as well as the font set being different. I have one button for adding links, always a perp noisestalked event, and that is all the editing capability that I have save the native Windows Cut and Paste. Back to basics it would seem. And that is why I cannot see Followers, Other Blogs I Read and whatever other features that Blogspot/Blogger has, is because they don't display on this so-called dashboard, and there seems to be no conventional reason why. All my icons were stripped out in early 2009, and I went from memory (per planted ones I suspect), to effect the Blogspot features. I cannot even see how to add pictures in any more.
While there I did some Boxing Day Sale shopping online, and that set the stage for toilet blocking games immediately following making an online financial transaction. (And have I mentioned how often I get harassed, gangstalked and noisestalked while making a financial transaction?). A new downstairs low flow toilet had been installed in the partially renovated bathroom, and lo, if it didn't back up immediately, and spawn itself into a four day job to then be only cleared by the addition of bleach. The toilet was unplungeable due to its irregular throat, and that made it extra difficult to deal with matters. Then the plumber's snake couldn't get through the convoluted waste pathway.
Over some five days, and it even foamed up for two days after putting bleach in it. Then the one upstairs "self cleaned" with bleach too, as if in sympathy. And no end of mentioning the blocked toilet by my mother (putting on the ditz act), in "response" to everyone asking how the bathroom renovation was going, har, har. (Over the phone and in person). Then visitations from Feral Family and friends were arranged while said toilet was in a state of mess as it couldn't be plunged due to new low flush design. (it was through the wall from the living room and down a half storey).
One of my mother's friends and her partner (my mother's term) came over, all to roil me with the red and yellow perp color theme; one dressed with each color, plus ongoing sunlight/plasma and shade games to redden her face (wearing the red shirt) at times while talking to her, as if the shirt wasn't enough. This was during the pre-dusk time of 1500 to 1600h, a very common time where the perps put on their red color games. The visitors brought some items for gifts for my mother, in a freaking translucent red plastic bag that sat on the table outside the living room where we chatted for some two hours. And have I said how much I loathe the sight of translucent red plastics or rubber; and how often this particular color, material and light transmissive quality comes to bear as a prop in the gangtalking? The all time take-away on this one was the at the last residential apartment building I lived in from 05-2005 to 08-2006, 140 units, and they left a translucent red condom on the T-intersection of the walkway 6' outside the apartment block front doors for over a week, when the building grounds were groomed and cleaned at least three times per week. And for the last five days, the perps have been playing the image of the Goat's Head Soup album (Jagger with his head in a tight translucent yellowish plastic or rubber sheet) in mind for whatever reason. (I don't follow the Rolling Stones or their work much and there is no reason for such imagery to come to mind except by remotely invasive technology and with some theme in mind for which I have no conscious recollection).
Other major perp themes were eating way too many cakes and cookies, and they do like me to indulge in high gluten foods at times, and this was it for the year, a whole week of it, and I still have some to finish up at my place. Hopefully I can get back to healthy chocolate tomorrow and keep my 20lb weight loss permanent, one of 2009's rare side benefits.
Other slings and arrows of the past week were on Christmas Day when helping my mother cook the turkey, supplying the muscle to heft it and flip it as needed. Then carving, something the perps always love me to do, even here with the cooked chicken I purchase. I cleaned my mother's kitchen counter three times that day, as the place is always a fucking mess with crumbs and spatter on things. Even the Purell and the dish soap containers needed to be cleaned for crissakes. The perps had me in an obsessive overdrive about mess, crumbs and lint all day. And if that wasn't bad enough, my mother in her ditz act must of crossed my path or stood in my way of where I intended to place myself some 80 times; Christmas from hell, being gangstalked and obstructed at every move all fucking day. And if I temporarily vacated a place at the kitchen counter while in the service of aiding dinner (for six all told), then she was standing in the very place I had vacated only seconds following me. Not only in the kitchen, but in the living room when I needed to get up and exit for any reason. Fucking tiresome it was, and I only got some reprieve the next day, and that bullshit act slowly diminished to near "normal gangstalking" levels at the First Feral Family home.
2330h
I normally keep good track of my few regular food items, and lo, if I didn't "discover" tonight (the sirens are going as I type this up, heard through my earmuffs), that the milk was way past its date, and the perp routinely exploit this, often souring the milk days in advance. So..., a force play to have me go to the local supermarket at 2130h, a 10 minute round trip from my apartment. And lo, if the Unfavored freakshow wasn't there in muted form; the ponytailed dude who "needed" to hop off the curb at the same moment as me jaywalking to get this fucker out of my sight, and then he quickened his pace to a short run so I could see his ridiculous ponytail in profile in the dim light, and bums outside the supermarket, and then two negroes (back to live specimens after a week of the TV version, especially the mug of that attempted Nigerian bomber on the Christmas Day flight), one female giving me the stare lining me up as she arrived from behind an aisle corner, and then a male who was loitering at the one location I needed to go to, the freaking goat milk section, and then finally I went for the checkout through the gauntlet of gangstalkers in the produce section. I paid cash this time, two blue five dollar bills, and that too is exciting stuff for the Fuckwits and their ongoing consumption with the color of my wallet contents.
Anyhow, I am going to wrap this one up; a few adds to the Consolidated TI World Link List, as I have been going through accumulated bookmarks tonight. I save them in a general folder to come back to, and tonight when I bookmarked worthy sites for inclusion into my more specific folders, why, the link just disappeared all by itself from the general folder. It is not the first time this has happened, but having someone doing my deleting in advance of me doing it is decidedly petty and pathetic.
And they have been extra active tonight in running plasma beams over top of my hands as I typed this blog tonight; an irregular varying width red beam from a millimeter to six millimeters sits over top of my hands by an inch for at least four seconds, time enough to be plenty sure. Then other colors, most frequently navy blue plasma beams over my hands.
This is a relatively high disruption occasion for the perps, me returning from a week away at the First Feral Family home to the same routines. They cannot get enough of me at those moments, returning from an absence to do the same boring stuff I always do. Go figure.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
A Day of Relative Rest
1750h
There is no rest for TI's; a day at home isn't as restful as it seems with jabbings to my fingers, inside my arms, in my right foot and in my nuts. And no posting yesterday as it was a day of "toil in the soil", picking daffodil bulbs on this site that should of been finished a week ago. My last field picking day before yesterday was 08-05-2008, more than two weeks ago on this same site and we returned there yesterday. Then they have selected individuals "talk it up" for my benefit as to the delays in progress. It is another "who knows" situation; why the delay, why the provacateurs talking it up (making excuses), and why do the perps keep on insisting that I think about this when I don't really care.
I was sent to the bulb sorting area yesterday to begin there, and lo, if they didn't change it up and have us go bulb picking (per above) instead. Thankfully it was not hot, and there were enough light on/off rains to suggest that they were timed for harassment purposes. I have been through these last minute switcheroos before, getting one tour guide who is swapped out after a minute or so, and a replacement one comes in. I have also had female cashiers swapped out for a male cashier in mid transaction as more curious event manipulation. Again, I have no idea as to why this is going on, except that it is much more often than before overt harassment onset, (BOH), 04-2002.
The yellow school bus used as the crew bus broke down yesterday, and it would seem that they needed to write this vehicle out of the script. Instead, they have yellow turbans planted around me, as well as ensuring I have yellow rain gear in my pack in response to expected weather conditions. It is interesting to note that the "coworkers" don't prepare for rain, and I can only assume they know they won't need it. I take my cue from them, though I am sure this will ultimately be a sucker punch one day.
And no posting yesterday due to a strange "need" for a nap during dusk onset. It was from 1900h to 2100h, going to sleep when it was bright out, and then waking up when it was dark. The diurnal dusk event is of intense interest to the perps, and I assume it is for the onset of vision changes for dim light conditions. Having me suddenly wake up in the dark is what they were looking for, rather than a slow incremental gradation. The evening was basically done for after the nap; I went to the local supermarket to get peanut butter which they had screwed me out remembering at least twice in the last week, all because they wanted me to aquire it only 12 hours ahead of its first use (this morning), instead of days or weeks in advance. This is all important for the perps, and I am getting fucking tired of playing these games of minutue for gumptionless criminals who have invaded my life and are too depraved to know they have overstayed their welcome.
I got my gangstalkers at the supermarket last night as I acquired at least two more brown food items, tortillas and chocolate. Again, the combinations of foods and colors is of vital interest and highly governed by the perps. And lo, if the stocking carts weren't out in the supermarket, putting on their brown cardboard box displays along with aisleway constriction and a skinheaded stocking/stalking "staff member".
Then, after shopping, I went to bed early, as if I needed the sleep, which I didn't. That made for a 10.5 hour sleep, more than 2.5 hours longer than I need. One can never get enough nap and sleep time for the assholes, and given that I wasn't interupted by strange dreams, what was it for? More "who knows" again.
When walking back from the crew bus drop off yesterday at 1730h, the perps put on six wandering skinheads, aka gangstalking males with a completely shaved head. This is straight from the Unfavored demographic group, and all were wearing their shirts and ties, but no sport or suit jacket. I got fed up with my vision being redirected to see these skinheads/freaks, and then they put on another ahead of me on the other side of the crosswalk I was about to cross. So, I averted my eyes again, and as the supposed skinhead passed by, I caught the glimpse of blonde hair. Once I got the sidewalk and looked back, the person was a blonde woman. In other words, the perps has swapped out the skinhead and replaced him with a blonde woman when I wasn't looking. So it would seem that they are continuing with the "blonde auric goodness" games, but in wholesale swapping form, and not the usual "auric penumbra" stunts. (The skinhead standing and walking behind the blonde woman is what they usually do for configurining a blonde (Favored) with a skinhead (very much Unfavored)).
And I see the perps were busy this morning whacking down another nearby boulevard tree. They like having the chipper rollers running in my proximity, not to mention the noise of the chippers and the associated chainsaw. They also put on some needless power washing opposite, adding to the noise and event barrage. The perps like me to visit newly cut trees and/or wood, and doubtless they were instrumental in my chainsaw milling activities of the late 1980's when I was into this. I sawed lumber directly from the log with a special chainsaw attatchment called an Alaskan Mill. One needs a very large chainsaw, 100cc displacement size or more, and for a time I had this gear with all the extras to facilitate it. Those were the days of relative freedom, little did I know it was highly orchestrated then.
I had my yoga class this morning, and the gangstalker brigade was all over me, when outbound, and then on my return when I made an extra loop to pick up my fleece sweater the perps had pulled the cuff stitching off. Last Saturday I attempted to pick up the item, and the shop was closed. This time the cost of retrieving it was that the sweater was inside a translucent red plastic bag. There is no more loathed abiotic combination of color and material than red translucent plastic, and here was my clothing inside of it. Once I had left the store I pulled the plastic off and shoved in the nearest street litter receptacle, and took the sweater in hand. I had my gangstalker sentry while doing this, he positioned on the sidewalk doing a blatant sit-around for no seeming reason. And of interest, the waste receptacle is within view of my apartment, some 300' away. So it would seem that the perps are attempting some kind of red plastic interaction detection from that distance, and will doubtless try to do so over the next few weeks.
I don't know why I immediately loathe the sight of red translucent plastic, but I know the perps know, and take many opportunities to plant this around me, especially the "plastic bag people" on the bus. They once arranged for a red condom to be placed at the junction of two walkways at my last apartment residence location, and it was "left there" for over two weeks, this disgusting color and substance. And for a location that undertook daily cleanup and grounds maintenance, it was mighty curious as to why they left such an offensive item in a prominent location, 8' from the front door. Regular readers will know that I speculate that I am the only apartment dweller in this building, and it was even more apparent at the last apartment block, the place being like a ghost town.
After breakfast I dealt with the disposal of recycle and trash garbage. Normally the trash is sent down the chute, but "somehow" the chute got plugged and cannot be fixed. Totally absurd nonsense. Anyhow, it seems the perps need me to walk down with the garbage and put in the bins inside the locked garbage room. My last two visitations had a "street person" (aka, criminal operative) sleeping on the floor of the garbage room. But today, and likely just for me, why, all the bins were pulled out of the garbage room, and were arranged on the drivethrough area. Not that any garbage trucks came today, but who cares, I don't look for much in the way of logical consistency anymore. And again, such changes are big things for the perps, and today's garbage disposal activity was likely planned for months or more, separating the bins from their usual location.
And a phone call a few minutes ago from the ISP/phone company, aka Shaw Cable. The dude was pushing "cable" service on me, trying to talk it up with a special offer. He couldn't stop calling it "cable", until I asked him, "you mean television?". Why yes, and my answer was no, I don't want TV. To me, this is another case of using one term, often an ambiguous one, and having me re-map it to a more precise term. Similarly, so-called green initiatives talk about "carbon" or "carbon footprint". No, it is "carbon dioxide" for chrissakes, though I have given up on this owing to the sheer ubiquity of this imprecise syntax. Actually, it is greenhouse gases such as CFC's as they are very much more damaging than carbon dioxide, but enough of this rectitude. Using alternate or unclear terms is also of intense perps interest, and I have no idea how much they are meddling to create this in the public domain.
2230h
The third round of chocolate consumption today was just completed. The eveningtime tea and chocolate is a total perp mind control invasion. I never had tea at this time of day and I don't need the chocolate either. All to play more brown color games where they can get it close to my brain, from inside the mouth. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed with this color and have created some kind of early developmental (age 2 to 5) subconscious traumatization association with this color that they are attempting to resolve. The Indian Lake Project provides some clues, though I have no recollection of this place and the military activity related to testing children. One such photo shows children in cages; Caucasian with negros and blind children. The latter two factor heavily in the gangstalking action, especially planting negros in my proximity. That I had two negros working for me, and then later, a negro boss in Seattle just wasn't enough action for the perps. I suspect that skin color, especially of negros, factors into the perps' brown color games.
And speaking of the Unfavored, I notice that the perps put on the Scottish accented kid on this farm work crew. They use him judiciously, but it doesn't take more than a minute before I cannot stand the sound of his accent. Again, I have no recollection as to past associations with this particular regional speech accent. That I lived as a 2 to 3 year old in Montreal in the era of the infamous Dr. Ewan Cameron at McGill University where my father was in a graduate degree program might have something to do with it. Dr. Cameron was partially CIA sponsored in various macabre methods to rewrite someone's brain. He also undertook clandestine LSD experiments on his patients. One of the Duplessis Orphans told me that he was also responsible for sexual abuse, though this is not widely known.
A quote from Rachael O (On Gangstalking) is captures the essence of what it is like to be targeted and hounded;
I have covered this ground many times before, and probably sound like a broken record. Time to call this posting done.
There is no rest for TI's; a day at home isn't as restful as it seems with jabbings to my fingers, inside my arms, in my right foot and in my nuts. And no posting yesterday as it was a day of "toil in the soil", picking daffodil bulbs on this site that should of been finished a week ago. My last field picking day before yesterday was 08-05-2008, more than two weeks ago on this same site and we returned there yesterday. Then they have selected individuals "talk it up" for my benefit as to the delays in progress. It is another "who knows" situation; why the delay, why the provacateurs talking it up (making excuses), and why do the perps keep on insisting that I think about this when I don't really care.
I was sent to the bulb sorting area yesterday to begin there, and lo, if they didn't change it up and have us go bulb picking (per above) instead. Thankfully it was not hot, and there were enough light on/off rains to suggest that they were timed for harassment purposes. I have been through these last minute switcheroos before, getting one tour guide who is swapped out after a minute or so, and a replacement one comes in. I have also had female cashiers swapped out for a male cashier in mid transaction as more curious event manipulation. Again, I have no idea as to why this is going on, except that it is much more often than before overt harassment onset, (BOH), 04-2002.
The yellow school bus used as the crew bus broke down yesterday, and it would seem that they needed to write this vehicle out of the script. Instead, they have yellow turbans planted around me, as well as ensuring I have yellow rain gear in my pack in response to expected weather conditions. It is interesting to note that the "coworkers" don't prepare for rain, and I can only assume they know they won't need it. I take my cue from them, though I am sure this will ultimately be a sucker punch one day.
And no posting yesterday due to a strange "need" for a nap during dusk onset. It was from 1900h to 2100h, going to sleep when it was bright out, and then waking up when it was dark. The diurnal dusk event is of intense interest to the perps, and I assume it is for the onset of vision changes for dim light conditions. Having me suddenly wake up in the dark is what they were looking for, rather than a slow incremental gradation. The evening was basically done for after the nap; I went to the local supermarket to get peanut butter which they had screwed me out remembering at least twice in the last week, all because they wanted me to aquire it only 12 hours ahead of its first use (this morning), instead of days or weeks in advance. This is all important for the perps, and I am getting fucking tired of playing these games of minutue for gumptionless criminals who have invaded my life and are too depraved to know they have overstayed their welcome.
I got my gangstalkers at the supermarket last night as I acquired at least two more brown food items, tortillas and chocolate. Again, the combinations of foods and colors is of vital interest and highly governed by the perps. And lo, if the stocking carts weren't out in the supermarket, putting on their brown cardboard box displays along with aisleway constriction and a skinheaded stocking/stalking "staff member".
Then, after shopping, I went to bed early, as if I needed the sleep, which I didn't. That made for a 10.5 hour sleep, more than 2.5 hours longer than I need. One can never get enough nap and sleep time for the assholes, and given that I wasn't interupted by strange dreams, what was it for? More "who knows" again.
When walking back from the crew bus drop off yesterday at 1730h, the perps put on six wandering skinheads, aka gangstalking males with a completely shaved head. This is straight from the Unfavored demographic group, and all were wearing their shirts and ties, but no sport or suit jacket. I got fed up with my vision being redirected to see these skinheads/freaks, and then they put on another ahead of me on the other side of the crosswalk I was about to cross. So, I averted my eyes again, and as the supposed skinhead passed by, I caught the glimpse of blonde hair. Once I got the sidewalk and looked back, the person was a blonde woman. In other words, the perps has swapped out the skinhead and replaced him with a blonde woman when I wasn't looking. So it would seem that they are continuing with the "blonde auric goodness" games, but in wholesale swapping form, and not the usual "auric penumbra" stunts. (The skinhead standing and walking behind the blonde woman is what they usually do for configurining a blonde (Favored) with a skinhead (very much Unfavored)).
And I see the perps were busy this morning whacking down another nearby boulevard tree. They like having the chipper rollers running in my proximity, not to mention the noise of the chippers and the associated chainsaw. They also put on some needless power washing opposite, adding to the noise and event barrage. The perps like me to visit newly cut trees and/or wood, and doubtless they were instrumental in my chainsaw milling activities of the late 1980's when I was into this. I sawed lumber directly from the log with a special chainsaw attatchment called an Alaskan Mill. One needs a very large chainsaw, 100cc displacement size or more, and for a time I had this gear with all the extras to facilitate it. Those were the days of relative freedom, little did I know it was highly orchestrated then.
I had my yoga class this morning, and the gangstalker brigade was all over me, when outbound, and then on my return when I made an extra loop to pick up my fleece sweater the perps had pulled the cuff stitching off. Last Saturday I attempted to pick up the item, and the shop was closed. This time the cost of retrieving it was that the sweater was inside a translucent red plastic bag. There is no more loathed abiotic combination of color and material than red translucent plastic, and here was my clothing inside of it. Once I had left the store I pulled the plastic off and shoved in the nearest street litter receptacle, and took the sweater in hand. I had my gangstalker sentry while doing this, he positioned on the sidewalk doing a blatant sit-around for no seeming reason. And of interest, the waste receptacle is within view of my apartment, some 300' away. So it would seem that the perps are attempting some kind of red plastic interaction detection from that distance, and will doubtless try to do so over the next few weeks.
I don't know why I immediately loathe the sight of red translucent plastic, but I know the perps know, and take many opportunities to plant this around me, especially the "plastic bag people" on the bus. They once arranged for a red condom to be placed at the junction of two walkways at my last apartment residence location, and it was "left there" for over two weeks, this disgusting color and substance. And for a location that undertook daily cleanup and grounds maintenance, it was mighty curious as to why they left such an offensive item in a prominent location, 8' from the front door. Regular readers will know that I speculate that I am the only apartment dweller in this building, and it was even more apparent at the last apartment block, the place being like a ghost town.
After breakfast I dealt with the disposal of recycle and trash garbage. Normally the trash is sent down the chute, but "somehow" the chute got plugged and cannot be fixed. Totally absurd nonsense. Anyhow, it seems the perps need me to walk down with the garbage and put in the bins inside the locked garbage room. My last two visitations had a "street person" (aka, criminal operative) sleeping on the floor of the garbage room. But today, and likely just for me, why, all the bins were pulled out of the garbage room, and were arranged on the drivethrough area. Not that any garbage trucks came today, but who cares, I don't look for much in the way of logical consistency anymore. And again, such changes are big things for the perps, and today's garbage disposal activity was likely planned for months or more, separating the bins from their usual location.
And a phone call a few minutes ago from the ISP/phone company, aka Shaw Cable. The dude was pushing "cable" service on me, trying to talk it up with a special offer. He couldn't stop calling it "cable", until I asked him, "you mean television?". Why yes, and my answer was no, I don't want TV. To me, this is another case of using one term, often an ambiguous one, and having me re-map it to a more precise term. Similarly, so-called green initiatives talk about "carbon" or "carbon footprint". No, it is "carbon dioxide" for chrissakes, though I have given up on this owing to the sheer ubiquity of this imprecise syntax. Actually, it is greenhouse gases such as CFC's as they are very much more damaging than carbon dioxide, but enough of this rectitude. Using alternate or unclear terms is also of intense perps interest, and I have no idea how much they are meddling to create this in the public domain.
2230h
The third round of chocolate consumption today was just completed. The eveningtime tea and chocolate is a total perp mind control invasion. I never had tea at this time of day and I don't need the chocolate either. All to play more brown color games where they can get it close to my brain, from inside the mouth. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed with this color and have created some kind of early developmental (age 2 to 5) subconscious traumatization association with this color that they are attempting to resolve. The Indian Lake Project provides some clues, though I have no recollection of this place and the military activity related to testing children. One such photo shows children in cages; Caucasian with negros and blind children. The latter two factor heavily in the gangstalking action, especially planting negros in my proximity. That I had two negros working for me, and then later, a negro boss in Seattle just wasn't enough action for the perps. I suspect that skin color, especially of negros, factors into the perps' brown color games.
And speaking of the Unfavored, I notice that the perps put on the Scottish accented kid on this farm work crew. They use him judiciously, but it doesn't take more than a minute before I cannot stand the sound of his accent. Again, I have no recollection as to past associations with this particular regional speech accent. That I lived as a 2 to 3 year old in Montreal in the era of the infamous Dr. Ewan Cameron at McGill University where my father was in a graduate degree program might have something to do with it. Dr. Cameron was partially CIA sponsored in various macabre methods to rewrite someone's brain. He also undertook clandestine LSD experiments on his patients. One of the Duplessis Orphans told me that he was also responsible for sexual abuse, though this is not widely known.
A quote from Rachael O (On Gangstalking) is captures the essence of what it is like to be targeted and hounded;
We do not imagine the stalking and harassment. We do not imagine strangers knowing way too much about us or that we are treated like mindless toys our whole lives. The whole thing is creepy and a living hell. True insanity would be much, much easier.I had no idea that gangstalking and harassment was a fact of life for unlucky persons who were selected. Then the perps outed themselves in 04-2002, and it has been hell ever since. And, it has got worse; incursions into my recall, knowledge, estimation of quantities, making logical choices and actions, knowledge of traffic rules and error trapping have all been selectively corrupted since BOH. The perps did not make any progress on these while they were in covert mode, and there is only a faint trace of brainstem level thoughts that they cannot yet control (fuck me with).
I have covered this ground many times before, and probably sound like a broken record. Time to call this posting done.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
What it Takes to Create a Posting
2115h
Another day of hard labor digging daffodil bulbs, this time the perps laid off on so much of the "bushed" reaction, and I am reasonably together tonight.
Getting back to the title of this blog posting, I had to go through two clickings to get the Firefox Bookmarks "show up" (selection list popup), and then two more clickings on the blogger as it self closed itself, and then finally, I was allowed to access my own blog.
I am getting a severe case of the forehead numbing torture tonight, relieved for all of 20 seconds by rubbing my head before the assholes restart the fuckery. This is a quasi-emulation of wearing a hat, which I did all day while out in the sun digging bulbs.
There were many more gangstalkings and harassment games, the most intense was the assholes who jumped all over me when laundering my clothes from today's outing. I had just showered and washed my hair, and then I attended to getting the laundry on, and there was one dude in the hallway putting on the chat act with another dude who kept his door open to be highly backlighted such that I could not see his face. (And there may have been some supporting plasmic fuckery involved as there so often is when they want to portray the Unfavored with the minimum of visual attributes; to tighten down what I find so subconsciously disagreeable about the Unfavored).
Then, the talking dude "happened" to need access to the laundry room at the same time as I did, and before I could get the door open, out popped three gangstalkers from the elevator which were coming my direction. Anyhow, I was first in the tight laundry room, and the dude followed me in to then declare he was going to start a laundry load, when he had one that just had finished. This was a feint to put his coins in the coin slot ahead of me. Then he "changed his mind" and decided to put his clothes in the dryer after taking them out of the washing machine. He got his load sorted out, and then I could proceed with mine.
I came back 30 minutes later to find the washing machine still running, albeit in its final rinse spin. Regular readers will know how the perps like me and other TI's to be around spinning objects, and this was no exception. The laundry has been incrementally taking a minute or two longer over the past few weeks on the same setting.
Then when the load was done, and I hung it up in the bathroom to dry as most of it was synthetics, I headed off to do the Chicken Run, one of the most highly gangstalked grocery shopping events when I buy hot cooked chicken to then eat of the bone for the first meal, and then use it as a source of cooked chicken to make tortillas, my one and only permitted menu item that I make "myself", now running for over five years of this bullshit.
At the supermarket, the gangstalkers and freakshow was all arranged for me, and was at a moderate level; there was only one bag of hot cooked chicken "remaining" at that time, and I was obliged to take it against my instincts, but it was the correct portion, and the assholes had me over a barrel, as the replacement sausages were on the fugly side. And lo, if I didnt' get the woman cashier with a double armfull of fugly tattoos on show. Did I not say how much I loathe the sight of tatoos in the past two postings and yet again it "happens". If I don't like the sight of tatoos, why do I have a phalanx of fuckwits chasing me all over the fucking city and hinterland with tatoos on display? Why cannot I be left alone to loathe tatoos? And of course tatoos was part of the crew banter I "overheard" today, just to rub it in.
I had at least 20 black plastic bags in two locations for my three minute walk to the supermarket, which was an ehancement to when I entered the building after returning earlier. The manager in a freaking red shirt was posted at the open door with the plastic bags at his feet, and was talking to another gangstalker, keeping the door open as I walked through. Later, the same plastic bags were located outside the building for my return trip to the supermarket on the Chicken Run/ A second row of black plastic garbage bags was also arranged some 60' further with a vertical stack of flattened brown cardboard boxes. And lo, if there wasn't yet another stack of cardboard boxes at the chocolate section where they also put on two additonal gangstalkers. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the color brown and in exposing me to it in a metered and incrementally accretive manner for each location that I spend any time in, or for even passing by.
There was a bigger bulb picking crew on today, and I got more multicultural dosage from the perps. Translated, that means placing brown skin race individuals around me, and again, in a metered fashion. Though today they were bold in putting the crew negro next to me, who then went onto tapping the plastic seatback in front of him for the entire journey. No more of that shit, I get on the bus last.
Then I got the East Indian turban act in the seat in front of me, also testing my tolerance to specific colors by being a puke brown colored turban that had me looking out the side window for most of the outbound journey.
At the marshalling area I got the attractive blonde woman standing around some 8' away while they paraded the brown skinned dudes behind her, as if in her auric penumbra. Or, another interpretation, more peekaboo games in hiding the Unfavored (dudes, brown skinned) behind the Favored (blonde attractive woman). And of the 20 bulb pickers, some six of the males were wearing bright red shirts. One took his off early in the day and parked the shirt nearby, and then periodically circulated around me for the remainder of the day, all the way to quitting time. It would seem this shirtless dude was on "residual red energetics duty", as if there was some latent effect of wearing a red shirt that he was testing my subconscious reaction to. Although he was Caucasian, his skin was very brown, and so it would seem an additional parameters of skin and race were added into the harassment/nonconsensual human experimentation mix. Me being the subject of course; I never signed up for any of this, and am utterly pissed beyond measure that all my personal details are not only the basis of this substantial experimentation effort, but must be known to thousands of the fucking shills, quislings and operatives,- the collective scum.
The East Indian kid was putting on the stare at least four times through the day, and was continuing his fucking loitering around me for no substantive reason, and even looped around me on a pointless parade, save coordinated harassment and gangstalking. That he was in a red shirt again, as he was four days ago just might have been a coincidence. At least the turbaned grandfather act to visit him in midfield wasn't put on again.
As background noise, the perps put on plenty of aircraft noise, and had the Helijets flying overhead, though, I do not know what their normal Vancouver route is, as it may have been "normal". The six passes by the military helicopter with some kind of blackish wave-like emanations from its radar dome wasn't normal in the least. On at least on one pass, at least four of the crew coordinated themselves to file past me. As before, the Victoria International Airport radar dome and mast were in plain view all day long, and anytime I looked there was some kind of magnetic emanation coming from these installationd toward me. I also see that the farm buildings were "ready for me" as there were two cellphone like towers on the roof, and an additional communications tower. These too shoot emanations at me, and might also be the source of the plasmic fuckery the perps laid on when I was in the bus, waiting for the strangely dawdling crew at quitting time. These towers sit overhead of the crew marshalling area, and it seems this entire gig was planned long ago.
As there was four days ago, there was a massive vehicular gangstalking to accompany the crew bus into downtown; the red colored vehicles were in groups of four to six, as were whites, silver greys and to a lesser extent, black colored vehicles. There were individual insertions of deep metallic green, light metallic brown (tan), navy blue and a few yellows. At least 5,000 vehicles were on this vehicular gangstalk event, as it is commute time, and there were many parked vehicles as well. All in a day's outing, just for me, everyday I go outside.
Time to call this done, and look for a new powerbar for the PC as the perps have sabotaged it at least twice, continuing the fuckery they pulled on the PC switch, which necessitated a $300 bill. Now the same PC startup dysfunctional fuckery has been moved to the powerbar, one that should not fail, given that it is a Isobar which are very robust. So if this blog goes down for a few days you will know it is yet another sabotage event on the heels of an identical one, all to keep the same uncertainty going.
Another day of hard labor digging daffodil bulbs, this time the perps laid off on so much of the "bushed" reaction, and I am reasonably together tonight.
Getting back to the title of this blog posting, I had to go through two clickings to get the Firefox Bookmarks "show up" (selection list popup), and then two more clickings on the blogger as it self closed itself, and then finally, I was allowed to access my own blog.
I am getting a severe case of the forehead numbing torture tonight, relieved for all of 20 seconds by rubbing my head before the assholes restart the fuckery. This is a quasi-emulation of wearing a hat, which I did all day while out in the sun digging bulbs.
There were many more gangstalkings and harassment games, the most intense was the assholes who jumped all over me when laundering my clothes from today's outing. I had just showered and washed my hair, and then I attended to getting the laundry on, and there was one dude in the hallway putting on the chat act with another dude who kept his door open to be highly backlighted such that I could not see his face. (And there may have been some supporting plasmic fuckery involved as there so often is when they want to portray the Unfavored with the minimum of visual attributes; to tighten down what I find so subconsciously disagreeable about the Unfavored).
Then, the talking dude "happened" to need access to the laundry room at the same time as I did, and before I could get the door open, out popped three gangstalkers from the elevator which were coming my direction. Anyhow, I was first in the tight laundry room, and the dude followed me in to then declare he was going to start a laundry load, when he had one that just had finished. This was a feint to put his coins in the coin slot ahead of me. Then he "changed his mind" and decided to put his clothes in the dryer after taking them out of the washing machine. He got his load sorted out, and then I could proceed with mine.
I came back 30 minutes later to find the washing machine still running, albeit in its final rinse spin. Regular readers will know how the perps like me and other TI's to be around spinning objects, and this was no exception. The laundry has been incrementally taking a minute or two longer over the past few weeks on the same setting.
Then when the load was done, and I hung it up in the bathroom to dry as most of it was synthetics, I headed off to do the Chicken Run, one of the most highly gangstalked grocery shopping events when I buy hot cooked chicken to then eat of the bone for the first meal, and then use it as a source of cooked chicken to make tortillas, my one and only permitted menu item that I make "myself", now running for over five years of this bullshit.
At the supermarket, the gangstalkers and freakshow was all arranged for me, and was at a moderate level; there was only one bag of hot cooked chicken "remaining" at that time, and I was obliged to take it against my instincts, but it was the correct portion, and the assholes had me over a barrel, as the replacement sausages were on the fugly side. And lo, if I didnt' get the woman cashier with a double armfull of fugly tattoos on show. Did I not say how much I loathe the sight of tatoos in the past two postings and yet again it "happens". If I don't like the sight of tatoos, why do I have a phalanx of fuckwits chasing me all over the fucking city and hinterland with tatoos on display? Why cannot I be left alone to loathe tatoos? And of course tatoos was part of the crew banter I "overheard" today, just to rub it in.
I had at least 20 black plastic bags in two locations for my three minute walk to the supermarket, which was an ehancement to when I entered the building after returning earlier. The manager in a freaking red shirt was posted at the open door with the plastic bags at his feet, and was talking to another gangstalker, keeping the door open as I walked through. Later, the same plastic bags were located outside the building for my return trip to the supermarket on the Chicken Run/ A second row of black plastic garbage bags was also arranged some 60' further with a vertical stack of flattened brown cardboard boxes. And lo, if there wasn't yet another stack of cardboard boxes at the chocolate section where they also put on two additonal gangstalkers. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the color brown and in exposing me to it in a metered and incrementally accretive manner for each location that I spend any time in, or for even passing by.
There was a bigger bulb picking crew on today, and I got more multicultural dosage from the perps. Translated, that means placing brown skin race individuals around me, and again, in a metered fashion. Though today they were bold in putting the crew negro next to me, who then went onto tapping the plastic seatback in front of him for the entire journey. No more of that shit, I get on the bus last.
Then I got the East Indian turban act in the seat in front of me, also testing my tolerance to specific colors by being a puke brown colored turban that had me looking out the side window for most of the outbound journey.
At the marshalling area I got the attractive blonde woman standing around some 8' away while they paraded the brown skinned dudes behind her, as if in her auric penumbra. Or, another interpretation, more peekaboo games in hiding the Unfavored (dudes, brown skinned) behind the Favored (blonde attractive woman). And of the 20 bulb pickers, some six of the males were wearing bright red shirts. One took his off early in the day and parked the shirt nearby, and then periodically circulated around me for the remainder of the day, all the way to quitting time. It would seem this shirtless dude was on "residual red energetics duty", as if there was some latent effect of wearing a red shirt that he was testing my subconscious reaction to. Although he was Caucasian, his skin was very brown, and so it would seem an additional parameters of skin and race were added into the harassment/nonconsensual human experimentation mix. Me being the subject of course; I never signed up for any of this, and am utterly pissed beyond measure that all my personal details are not only the basis of this substantial experimentation effort, but must be known to thousands of the fucking shills, quislings and operatives,- the collective scum.
The East Indian kid was putting on the stare at least four times through the day, and was continuing his fucking loitering around me for no substantive reason, and even looped around me on a pointless parade, save coordinated harassment and gangstalking. That he was in a red shirt again, as he was four days ago just might have been a coincidence. At least the turbaned grandfather act to visit him in midfield wasn't put on again.
As background noise, the perps put on plenty of aircraft noise, and had the Helijets flying overhead, though, I do not know what their normal Vancouver route is, as it may have been "normal". The six passes by the military helicopter with some kind of blackish wave-like emanations from its radar dome wasn't normal in the least. On at least on one pass, at least four of the crew coordinated themselves to file past me. As before, the Victoria International Airport radar dome and mast were in plain view all day long, and anytime I looked there was some kind of magnetic emanation coming from these installationd toward me. I also see that the farm buildings were "ready for me" as there were two cellphone like towers on the roof, and an additional communications tower. These too shoot emanations at me, and might also be the source of the plasmic fuckery the perps laid on when I was in the bus, waiting for the strangely dawdling crew at quitting time. These towers sit overhead of the crew marshalling area, and it seems this entire gig was planned long ago.
As there was four days ago, there was a massive vehicular gangstalking to accompany the crew bus into downtown; the red colored vehicles were in groups of four to six, as were whites, silver greys and to a lesser extent, black colored vehicles. There were individual insertions of deep metallic green, light metallic brown (tan), navy blue and a few yellows. At least 5,000 vehicles were on this vehicular gangstalk event, as it is commute time, and there were many parked vehicles as well. All in a day's outing, just for me, everyday I go outside.
Time to call this done, and look for a new powerbar for the PC as the perps have sabotaged it at least twice, continuing the fuckery they pulled on the PC switch, which necessitated a $300 bill. Now the same PC startup dysfunctional fuckery has been moved to the powerbar, one that should not fail, given that it is a Isobar which are very robust. So if this blog goes down for a few days you will know it is yet another sabotage event on the heels of an identical one, all to keep the same uncertainty going.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Beepings and Squeakings
1145h
An eerie all-quiet order is in place, save selected vehicle horns and the overhead rumblings with an associated squeaking. And these two noises are coincident with mouse clicking, web page changes, bookmarking web pages, forced typos, reading familiar names, planted recall associations and the remainder of the "small events that matter" list that is totally consistent every mortal minute of my existence. That is, these inconsequential events to me, are of seeming earth shattering importance to the perps and their constant noisestalking, often now augmented with coincident phenomenon such as plasma and maser beams, localized muscle spasms, (lower right eyelid especially), ass jabbing, almost-farts (sensation, but no expected outcome), vision impairments, forced tongue movements, food particle "arrivals" in my mouth, pulsed hits to my temporal lobe area, itches, scratching said itches and others.
Nothing new in all of the above of course, and this has been consistent in the past six residence locations, and even my once worksite on a weekend.
Now some steady tapping has started up, a continuation of what was going on when I was awakened for no reason in the night.
1315h
An extra noisestalking spell erupted 20 minutes before lunch, and continued through lunch preparation, consumption, the dishes and currently, some 30 minutes later. A hallway "project" has erupted as the cover for more hallway sourced banter, clunkings, rumblings etc. timed to coincide with other noise or my thoughts and actions, especially the thoughts that are not yet governed and planted. It is to be under the microscope all the more, as if the magnification was turned up another order of magnitude. The typos have suddenly increased, as has the loud mufflered vehicles, almost three per minute. And while dealing with lunch, the siren cascade started up for my cling wrap handling; unrolling, severing (with the cutting edge "failing" for an few inches of cling wrap, confirming that the perps are totally obsessed with this particular material), and that it is not enough to use the product every day. It is not my problem if there are intrinsic plastics in my system, as there is only one party that sat around and let it happen, and now it appears to interfere with their electromagnetic mind-fuck research/games and the rest of the nonconsensual human experimentation agenda.
In fact, it seems likely the perps knew all about the plastic problem as early as age 6 I reckon. If my mother's sudden interest in home brewing is a guide to go by, I was helping her siphon this brown liquid with active yeast (an energetic source), a task that surely fits with the ongoing color and plastic pollutants obsession of the perps. Again, not my problem, so why am I being fucked over for it?
But in fact, there are many types of plastics, and a recent activity this week pointed one out that I was unaware of. I was with my parents at the plant nursery and we were being dicked around by the employee "shortage" and had to wait at a gate for the perp operative cum assistant to arrive. Both my parents split off leaving me under the polyethylene canopy structure that was beside the gate. And it "so happens", when the ex was keen to work this hobby farm we bought, there was a 100' greenhose that was covered in poly, and I cannot recount how many 100's of hours I worked in there to get the alstromeria beds built, filled, tended to, irrigation constructed etc. In other words, it was a setup to have me around large quantities of plastic, as dealing with home renovations for the previous 20 years wasn't enough for the assholes noisestalking my every keystroke as I type this.
And the above also explains why there are so many plastic objects, especially PVC pipe, being toted around in or on vehicles on gangstalking duty. Of late, brown fallen leaves are the cover story to be wrapped up in plastic bags of varying colors, and even toted around by ambulatory gangstalkers on the streets.
I expect no answer to my usual rants above, and in all likelihood any stock phrases that I use are likely scripted and planted, otherwise they wouldn't "come to mind" so readily as they do.
1510h
A misty rain came over and wetted the streets and thereby altering the noise of road traffic to a highre frequency swishing sound. Not a big deal for me, it is winter after all, but rest assured, it makes a significant difference for the remote energetics assay work on me. Earlier, with wet streets from nightime rain, the perps put on the street sweeper for whatever reason, perhaps to assign the edge of the ashphalt surface more variabile energetics signature. I also notice that there are more gangstlalkers walking along the curb on the asphalt street surface when there is a perfectly adequate sidewalk. Seemingly, they don't want their operatives to alway walk on the sidewalk as I do, but to walk in parallel on the asphalt-curb interface.
The assignment of energetics to asphalt and tar is a major perp obsession, and it has sponsored quite a few roofing projects, one in place on my beat to the gym which I pass twice a week. Another related obsession is gasoline, and more to the point, gasoline filling stations; they have pulled one out, again on my beat, and are rebuilding it by digging down, blasting out more rock, and placing at least two large plastic tanks in the ground as well as all the other construction of the building and overhead roof. So it would seem that the perps want me walking that beat for a while yet, or at least until they resolve their energetics assay games over gasoline and other petroleum based fuels and whatever interactions it has with me and all my surrogates. That is my take on what is going on, as there have been at least two other gas station refurbishments on my frequently travelled routes in the past year. I always wondered why there was past spates of cross-industry based gasoline filling stations refurbishments, and now I know, as strange as it seems.
2050h
More knee torquing tonight, the first in ages. This is where the perps manipulate my lower leg, turning it on axis to then bring on knee pain. There must be some primative neural circuits attached to over rotating one's leg, and they are attempting to identify them.
A related jrkaround was giving me a jab in the knee when readying lunch earlier today. This too would be another method to access the same primative neural pathways the perps keep attempting to detect by remote means of the energetic signature.
2145h
I switch to a certain blog site and then I am hammered with plasma beams and vision impairments, the combination suggesting that the latter is "causal" to this phenomenon. Not so; it never happened in the past, so why now? It is all about escalation of harassment games, also seen on the street and the profusion of the "Plastic Bag Men", the middle aged dudes with nothing better to do than walk about packing plastic bags; white store sourced ones, and the black garbage bags. Fucking absurd, and that doesn't reflect the faux vagrants and their shopping carts full of plastic products. One dipshit had at least 6 yellow rubber duckies, about 5" high, arranged on the handlebars of his bicycle last week.
2215h
Time to call this one done; I am getting some serious vison impairments in both eyes and it is sustained, and not the usual harassment I get.
An eerie all-quiet order is in place, save selected vehicle horns and the overhead rumblings with an associated squeaking. And these two noises are coincident with mouse clicking, web page changes, bookmarking web pages, forced typos, reading familiar names, planted recall associations and the remainder of the "small events that matter" list that is totally consistent every mortal minute of my existence. That is, these inconsequential events to me, are of seeming earth shattering importance to the perps and their constant noisestalking, often now augmented with coincident phenomenon such as plasma and maser beams, localized muscle spasms, (lower right eyelid especially), ass jabbing, almost-farts (sensation, but no expected outcome), vision impairments, forced tongue movements, food particle "arrivals" in my mouth, pulsed hits to my temporal lobe area, itches, scratching said itches and others.
Nothing new in all of the above of course, and this has been consistent in the past six residence locations, and even my once worksite on a weekend.
Now some steady tapping has started up, a continuation of what was going on when I was awakened for no reason in the night.
1315h
An extra noisestalking spell erupted 20 minutes before lunch, and continued through lunch preparation, consumption, the dishes and currently, some 30 minutes later. A hallway "project" has erupted as the cover for more hallway sourced banter, clunkings, rumblings etc. timed to coincide with other noise or my thoughts and actions, especially the thoughts that are not yet governed and planted. It is to be under the microscope all the more, as if the magnification was turned up another order of magnitude. The typos have suddenly increased, as has the loud mufflered vehicles, almost three per minute. And while dealing with lunch, the siren cascade started up for my cling wrap handling; unrolling, severing (with the cutting edge "failing" for an few inches of cling wrap, confirming that the perps are totally obsessed with this particular material), and that it is not enough to use the product every day. It is not my problem if there are intrinsic plastics in my system, as there is only one party that sat around and let it happen, and now it appears to interfere with their electromagnetic mind-fuck research/games and the rest of the nonconsensual human experimentation agenda.
In fact, it seems likely the perps knew all about the plastic problem as early as age 6 I reckon. If my mother's sudden interest in home brewing is a guide to go by, I was helping her siphon this brown liquid with active yeast (an energetic source), a task that surely fits with the ongoing color and plastic pollutants obsession of the perps. Again, not my problem, so why am I being fucked over for it?
But in fact, there are many types of plastics, and a recent activity this week pointed one out that I was unaware of. I was with my parents at the plant nursery and we were being dicked around by the employee "shortage" and had to wait at a gate for the perp operative cum assistant to arrive. Both my parents split off leaving me under the polyethylene canopy structure that was beside the gate. And it "so happens", when the ex was keen to work this hobby farm we bought, there was a 100' greenhose that was covered in poly, and I cannot recount how many 100's of hours I worked in there to get the alstromeria beds built, filled, tended to, irrigation constructed etc. In other words, it was a setup to have me around large quantities of plastic, as dealing with home renovations for the previous 20 years wasn't enough for the assholes noisestalking my every keystroke as I type this.
And the above also explains why there are so many plastic objects, especially PVC pipe, being toted around in or on vehicles on gangstalking duty. Of late, brown fallen leaves are the cover story to be wrapped up in plastic bags of varying colors, and even toted around by ambulatory gangstalkers on the streets.
I expect no answer to my usual rants above, and in all likelihood any stock phrases that I use are likely scripted and planted, otherwise they wouldn't "come to mind" so readily as they do.
1510h
A misty rain came over and wetted the streets and thereby altering the noise of road traffic to a highre frequency swishing sound. Not a big deal for me, it is winter after all, but rest assured, it makes a significant difference for the remote energetics assay work on me. Earlier, with wet streets from nightime rain, the perps put on the street sweeper for whatever reason, perhaps to assign the edge of the ashphalt surface more variabile energetics signature. I also notice that there are more gangstlalkers walking along the curb on the asphalt street surface when there is a perfectly adequate sidewalk. Seemingly, they don't want their operatives to alway walk on the sidewalk as I do, but to walk in parallel on the asphalt-curb interface.
The assignment of energetics to asphalt and tar is a major perp obsession, and it has sponsored quite a few roofing projects, one in place on my beat to the gym which I pass twice a week. Another related obsession is gasoline, and more to the point, gasoline filling stations; they have pulled one out, again on my beat, and are rebuilding it by digging down, blasting out more rock, and placing at least two large plastic tanks in the ground as well as all the other construction of the building and overhead roof. So it would seem that the perps want me walking that beat for a while yet, or at least until they resolve their energetics assay games over gasoline and other petroleum based fuels and whatever interactions it has with me and all my surrogates. That is my take on what is going on, as there have been at least two other gas station refurbishments on my frequently travelled routes in the past year. I always wondered why there was past spates of cross-industry based gasoline filling stations refurbishments, and now I know, as strange as it seems.
2050h
More knee torquing tonight, the first in ages. This is where the perps manipulate my lower leg, turning it on axis to then bring on knee pain. There must be some primative neural circuits attached to over rotating one's leg, and they are attempting to identify them.
A related jrkaround was giving me a jab in the knee when readying lunch earlier today. This too would be another method to access the same primative neural pathways the perps keep attempting to detect by remote means of the energetic signature.
2145h
I switch to a certain blog site and then I am hammered with plasma beams and vision impairments, the combination suggesting that the latter is "causal" to this phenomenon. Not so; it never happened in the past, so why now? It is all about escalation of harassment games, also seen on the street and the profusion of the "Plastic Bag Men", the middle aged dudes with nothing better to do than walk about packing plastic bags; white store sourced ones, and the black garbage bags. Fucking absurd, and that doesn't reflect the faux vagrants and their shopping carts full of plastic products. One dipshit had at least 6 yellow rubber duckies, about 5" high, arranged on the handlebars of his bicycle last week.
2215h
Time to call this one done; I am getting some serious vison impairments in both eyes and it is sustained, and not the usual harassment I get.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
No Shower, No Shave, No Problem
1415h
Today's title reflects this morning's hijinx, as the perps have a problem with their remote energy assay activity of me with the normal morning routine of showering and shaving. One has to only see how much maser action I get that is attendant to these activities to know that they are seriously sucking wind in their ability to fathom all the energetic aspects of these functions.
So today, in combination with my in-town brother, they ensured that I was not permitted to undertake this part of my morning routine. I had an arrangement with him to phone when I was ready for pick up in the morning to then proceed to our parent's place to move large rugs and the associated underlay, all to accomodate the recent arrival of a new living room rug at my parent's place, mentioned in a past blog posting.
I was screwed into a 9.5 hour sleep, getting up at 0930h, a total piss-off to start the day. The mellifluous apartment manager was on his cellphone in the hallway when I was awakening, and this noise source covered me from awakening to getting dressed. Then on with breakfast and then my brother phoned on the intercom, having already driven over without prior notice, and was waiting for me he said. "I" (read, mind-controlled me) gave him a 15 minute wait time, knowing that showering and shaving weren't going to fit into this schedule. Having been shown my unique comb forward hairdo I get every morning, I then "decided" to only wash my hair in the bathtub, pinched and twisting to access the spout to wash and rinse my hair. Plus a whole lot of added water drops flew off my head, but I did finally succeed, not bothering with conditioner either. Then on with the usual dental hygeine, and I was ready, or sort of, compared to most mornings.
When I went to the elevators to depart, the apartment manager was back on voice-over duty at the elevators in the hallway, on his cellphone and doing his bit to make like he was discussing real tenancy issues. Then his sidekick of 10-15-2007 whom I also met in the elevator then, emerged from the corner of the hallway, who then walked toward me and then backed off and turned around to "join" the manager. This sidekick, who makes no bones about doing nothing but loiter around for no apparent reason, save gangstalking, was dressed in blue, has white hair and a trimmed white beard. There must be some reason the perps are "featuring" this particular size, age and appearance of this operative, though I have no reason why. He doesn't fit the geriatric profile, nor of the obese demographic the perps like to inundate me with, so there must be some reason to attach this creep to the manager, and then have him loiter in his midst each time. (Twice in a week so far, and the manager had been unseen and unheard for weeks before this).
As with 10-14-2007, my brother offered no reason as to why he "escalated" his side of the agreement to meet, and had all this time to wait, when he "needed" to visit another potential garage or estate sale enroute to our parent's place. As it "happened", he drove the route that I walk to the regular gym I use, and stopped at an apartment block that fronts onto this thoroughfare. I waited inside his white van, and read the supplied newspapers, marvelled at the arrangements of the parked vehicles in their colors that the perps arrange for me, and he was back out in no time. Then onto our parent's place where no one was home, my mother being out and at an appointment, which was stated to be the "impasse"/excuse as to why we couldn't do this today. Now we could all of a sudden. No matter, I got nothing but time on my hands, and the weather was warm.
As I type this, the perps are sabotaging my keystrokes and jerking around where the cursor is, new keyboard be damned.
Anyhow, to make a long story short, we moved the original living room carpet of 30 to 40 years ago and rolled it up. We took the old living room carpet that was still rolled up there and moved it outside to then lay it out to then remove the green rubber underlay and placed that in my brother's white trades van. After the furniture shuffling was done, we had laid the old living room carpet to the den, placing it where its successor once was, and moved furniture in the living room to then accomodate the prior furniture removal we had done three days ago. All very complicated, like a Rubic's Cube of furniture movements, with some items having over four decades of family use.
The perps jerked around the lie of the carpet we were rolling out, and then had my brother act like a idiot and adjust it's postion so it couldn't be unrolled without snagging something. Then, per usual, they got me cranked up and pissed off with him, and created a succession of dumbshit moves to keep elevating "my" (read, mind-controlled emotional state) annoyance with his deliberate farting around. He seemed to take this in stride, and no doubt it had been rehearsed. These "outbursts" are almost required by the perps anytime I see him for any duration. It is almost an everytime event, and he gets the role of stoking the problem. I don't know anyone who has a better handle on the physicality of furniture and all things practical than my in-town brother, and here he was acting like a dumbshit cowboy. Just to think, the perps have been cranking me on this angle for a lifetime and are still at it. Fucking sick.
There were other feints and dodges he got into to ensure that I was to know that there was family involvement with the perps, and the final deal was that he "needed" to go out of town after this for yet another garage sale event, so he couldn't drop me off at my place, and I had to take the bus back. And lo, if the travelling freakshow wasn't ready for me there. The theme color today was blue; the decor of the bus, the blue plastic recycle boxes at the curbside in a strange change of the pickup day from Mondays to Wednesdays, and a blue shirted PE class running along the main thoroughfare the bus took into town. I got plenty of blue dressed gangstalkers seated around me in this over-populous bus, and then they brought operative gangstalkers with these hideous red translucent plastic bags, under the cover story of it being "shopping". There is something about this color and its properties the perps know I don't like, and yet they are doing this almost everytime I am out, introducing this particular plastic bag color into my proximity. In the 10-15-2007 blog they did the same, when transiting from my ride to the elevator, putting this same bag type and color on show in a bizarrely elaborate hand off from one male black leather jacketed operative to a female operative with the same leather jacket color and style. Not my problem, so why am I being chased all over town with this dumbshit routine?
The all-quiet order is out; there has been an uncanny silence while typing this, and perhaps it is time to wrap this one up and start on the tea and chocolate games that are the perp's re-introduced routine for the afternoon.
1515h
I was allowed to phone in for a rare harassment victim's conference call last night, the "impetus" being that a near-local TI whom I have been in contact with was on as the guest speaker. And wouldn't you know, she got cut off some 10 minutes into her talk, and after a few minutes, was allowed to reconnect and call back in to resume. She recommends to "love your perps", even wave to them, and take the organized harassment message out there, and make it public. And for us TI's to not react to the insults, incursions and harassment games. I have yet to hear from an email I sent her, but the question I had is that if the perps are controlling one's reactions and emotional state as they appear to be doing to me, then how does one know if one is taking independent reaction or not, and acting contrary to what the perp's intended script?
She and I have had a few phone discussions, and I haven't met her in person, but it would seem to me that there are many hundreds, if not thousands of TI's that are being overtly harassed, and that each of one is on a particular script to fulfil the perp's objectives. There is more to this that I won't get into, but it does make me laugh at times when someone in this situation insists that they are resisting mind-control and have a recipie to do just this. Unless one arranges themselves in a constantly randomly changing magnetic field, possibly wearing some highly reflective clothing (e.g. sheilding metal fibers in the material), I cannot see how one can not succumb to the perp's targeted energies and the mind-control script they have planned. Just my opinion on all of this.
1645h
Four loud mufflered vehicles in succession, about two minutes apart each. All for some reason, and it is highly structured, as there hadn't been much of this all afternoon until after tea and chocolate (read, perp brown food obsession). Now the overhead rumbling and thumping has started up, also another first for today, and now hallway sourced coughing and spluttering too. And the evening time dinginess is also coming on, it will be time to turn on the lights soon. A noiseflurry of obvious timing, right after the scripted teatime.
Here are some news items that I wanted to bring into the dialog, and sound off on with my experience of being the perp whipping boy for over five years now, the testament to their utter thanklessness of being a covert target for a 47 year lifetime before they outed themselves to reveal their psychopathic organizational traits. And the same goes for all the asshole shills who have joined them; live this life for two weeks and see if you would of cooperated.
And mixing both the perp's propensity for toilet games and all things to do with their obsession over shit, and their abilities to curtail one's democratic citizens rights, here is a news item that has someone being cited for swearing over a blocked toilet. Assuming this is not a spoofed news story for my benefit, it has that ring of perp involvement; toilet overflow games, a high degree of victim emotional duress, and that the perps would have one's civil liberties impinged upon for just that. And it has been true in the past, the perps have sabotaged me taking a shit nearly everytime since 2003, flooding and blocking the toilet, and using the plunger to relieve the impasse, sometimes for over 20 minutes time, all to have someone else "help". (This at the last rooming house). And not having any choice in how I react, there was plenty of swearing, and reaction, and it just goes to show that their juvenility remains their most persistent trait. No doubt this story was created, and the news item planted upon me for some kind of resonant reaction for the perps to read in my mind, as I contend they have realtime neural monitoring and access to anyone they select. Along the way, other's lives get trashed too, and the fuckers don't seem to care about that too much.
And a local story on a major financial scam that went on in this town in recent years that hasn't fully played out. With the perp's interest in all my financial transactions, and all things related to that, I cannot help but think that they had a hand in this one, among the very population that has been helping them for the most part. Their unmitigated gall to fuck the individuals in the city that bends over backwards surely takes the cake for being supreme jerks. I wonder how they drew up the victims list; perhaps these people of some means refused to cooperate in some way. As I type this up a whole lot of outside vehicle beeping and overhead clunking is going on, so it is time to give this one a rest for now, and not ponder how the perps keep this city and its residents cooperative, and yet go on fuckover rampages that most anyone involved with them could surely figure out that their dark hands were likely likely guiding, of not explicitly controlling such events. Again, I have no model as to why the perps are involved in financial matters from an observational perspective, and I can only offer that they are looking for some kind of intrinsic "psi" energies they want to identify and quantify. The timing of the above Ian Thow story is also suspicious, as it begins (2003) when the perps had driven me back to this city, and continued while the harassment went on (2005). And how the better financial minds got suckered into this one is another aspect that I will leave for the moment. And as I am getting jabbed underfoot by some unseen force field, and children's voices can be overheard in the hallway, I should call off this news item review for now.
1730h
A sudden onset of rain at this time, the dusk duration for which the perps devote much attention to, as there are some physiological processes in the human body that react to an absence of light. Which tells me that the perps are still working on this, and this might be the reason they have had me listen to music after dark mostly, and not before. It just "seems" to work out that way, and in my tightly orchestrated and controlled life, there are no random moments or ungoverned recurring patterns. Thats my theory, and no one else has any interest in all these phenomenon, let alone come close to explaining all it and the interaction associations.
1925h
A bizarre clicking noise has started up, as if someone were turning of a bank of light switches one by one. I put on my earmuffs to deal this this soft noise, and lo, if the same noise didn't somehow penetrate this 26dB noise reduction hearing protection. And yet, the noise wasn't that loud to begin with. Very curious.
The evening time rain has come on, and still the noise of roaring motorcycles continues to fill the air. There is a game going on, possibly started by the perps, as there are in fact very few who choose to ride a motorcycle in the rain, and if they do, they do so very carefully. And so the perps had me notice this anomaly everytime; rainy weather = no motorcycles (by noise). Yesterday they planted one in front of me in the wet weather when walking back from gym class, and now, the perps have given themselves a carte blanche to put on motorcycle noise in today's rain. A very curious sequence of events to say the least. As always, "I" ask the question as to who do they think they are fooling, and how do they know when they are? Plenty of debate can be had with this question given the right company.
And some photographs from yesterday, also noting that some did not even get stored, or were deleted. Of note were two portly gangstalkers both wearing dark blue jackest were walking 40' ahead of me on the concrete sidewalk, who then cross the side road as it entered the thoroughfare street. They get to the opposite curb edge of the side street, and jointly and with a minumum of fuss, turn around and walk straight toward me covering their most recent tracks on the ashpalt surfaced side street first. One was wearing a green cotton T-shirt, and the other was wearing a red cotton T-shirt. Like a surreal movie, especially executing that "joint" about face and waking back.
On with the pictures, some coming out blurred again for no reason but perp fuckery.
The "Plastic Bag Man" comes to visit, some 100' away this time. Behind is the roadworks job, pulling up the street block I lived on from 05-2005 to 08-2006. Also behind is a yellow-green dayglo dressed flagperson, though none of them need to be there, as they don't have an active role.
A very elaborate setup; two two-tone vehicles of identical color burgundy/silver-grey color scheme with a blue vehicle between them. Also note the meter heads have been pulled off the street parking, now for over a month.
Nothing too odd about this, just a tourist shot of the street works that are going on, more advancement in ripping up more streets that I do, or recently did, traverse on my regular beat.
Next E. block and back to the burgundy color scheme again, though only single colors. This could be considered an emulation of the above photo with the two tone vehicles, this with a blue lamp pillar between them instead of a blue vehicle.
Further up the street a foursome combination of two identical reds with blue vehicle ahead of the lead red vehicle, and a dark green vehicle between them.
Same vehicles, just the latter portion of the foursome vehicle cluster; the two identical red colored vehicles, the dark green one between them, and a metallic teal blue/green vehicle on the opposite side of the street.
Back to this location again, always set up for silver-grey, grey and white vehicles, both mobile and parked. Two mobile silver-grey vehicles, the Volvo V70 in a slightly darker tone, one parked silver-grey close to the mobile cluster and one more further back in the parked file, between the pickup truck and the blue Mini.
A cluster of two white vehicles, and a tan or golden metallic finish SUV behind them. Another white vehicle making a right turn behind the lead white sedan. This same location at this intersection, had a cluster of six silver-grey vehicles coming from the opposite direction on my way back, pictured in a later blog.
More white vehicle clustering white waiting at the same intersection, and not including the white vehicles in the above photo. A red and a green were thrown into the mix, a common color association the perps repeat.
This was too easy; a setup to goad me into taking a picture of the postman, usually an operative going by their frequency of appearences. A red vehicle "sandwich" with two near-identical metallic tan sedans side by side.
2245h
Time to call this blog posting done for the day, and see how much sleep I get, likely timed for the small S. kitchen window narrow sunlight beams. This was likely behind today's late start, and this perp timing and feature has been blogged now three times in a week if recall correctly, now remotely fuckable by the same organization.
Today's title reflects this morning's hijinx, as the perps have a problem with their remote energy assay activity of me with the normal morning routine of showering and shaving. One has to only see how much maser action I get that is attendant to these activities to know that they are seriously sucking wind in their ability to fathom all the energetic aspects of these functions.
So today, in combination with my in-town brother, they ensured that I was not permitted to undertake this part of my morning routine. I had an arrangement with him to phone when I was ready for pick up in the morning to then proceed to our parent's place to move large rugs and the associated underlay, all to accomodate the recent arrival of a new living room rug at my parent's place, mentioned in a past blog posting.
I was screwed into a 9.5 hour sleep, getting up at 0930h, a total piss-off to start the day. The mellifluous apartment manager was on his cellphone in the hallway when I was awakening, and this noise source covered me from awakening to getting dressed. Then on with breakfast and then my brother phoned on the intercom, having already driven over without prior notice, and was waiting for me he said. "I" (read, mind-controlled me) gave him a 15 minute wait time, knowing that showering and shaving weren't going to fit into this schedule. Having been shown my unique comb forward hairdo I get every morning, I then "decided" to only wash my hair in the bathtub, pinched and twisting to access the spout to wash and rinse my hair. Plus a whole lot of added water drops flew off my head, but I did finally succeed, not bothering with conditioner either. Then on with the usual dental hygeine, and I was ready, or sort of, compared to most mornings.
When I went to the elevators to depart, the apartment manager was back on voice-over duty at the elevators in the hallway, on his cellphone and doing his bit to make like he was discussing real tenancy issues. Then his sidekick of 10-15-2007 whom I also met in the elevator then, emerged from the corner of the hallway, who then walked toward me and then backed off and turned around to "join" the manager. This sidekick, who makes no bones about doing nothing but loiter around for no apparent reason, save gangstalking, was dressed in blue, has white hair and a trimmed white beard. There must be some reason the perps are "featuring" this particular size, age and appearance of this operative, though I have no reason why. He doesn't fit the geriatric profile, nor of the obese demographic the perps like to inundate me with, so there must be some reason to attach this creep to the manager, and then have him loiter in his midst each time. (Twice in a week so far, and the manager had been unseen and unheard for weeks before this).
As with 10-14-2007, my brother offered no reason as to why he "escalated" his side of the agreement to meet, and had all this time to wait, when he "needed" to visit another potential garage or estate sale enroute to our parent's place. As it "happened", he drove the route that I walk to the regular gym I use, and stopped at an apartment block that fronts onto this thoroughfare. I waited inside his white van, and read the supplied newspapers, marvelled at the arrangements of the parked vehicles in their colors that the perps arrange for me, and he was back out in no time. Then onto our parent's place where no one was home, my mother being out and at an appointment, which was stated to be the "impasse"/excuse as to why we couldn't do this today. Now we could all of a sudden. No matter, I got nothing but time on my hands, and the weather was warm.
As I type this, the perps are sabotaging my keystrokes and jerking around where the cursor is, new keyboard be damned.
Anyhow, to make a long story short, we moved the original living room carpet of 30 to 40 years ago and rolled it up. We took the old living room carpet that was still rolled up there and moved it outside to then lay it out to then remove the green rubber underlay and placed that in my brother's white trades van. After the furniture shuffling was done, we had laid the old living room carpet to the den, placing it where its successor once was, and moved furniture in the living room to then accomodate the prior furniture removal we had done three days ago. All very complicated, like a Rubic's Cube of furniture movements, with some items having over four decades of family use.
The perps jerked around the lie of the carpet we were rolling out, and then had my brother act like a idiot and adjust it's postion so it couldn't be unrolled without snagging something. Then, per usual, they got me cranked up and pissed off with him, and created a succession of dumbshit moves to keep elevating "my" (read, mind-controlled emotional state) annoyance with his deliberate farting around. He seemed to take this in stride, and no doubt it had been rehearsed. These "outbursts" are almost required by the perps anytime I see him for any duration. It is almost an everytime event, and he gets the role of stoking the problem. I don't know anyone who has a better handle on the physicality of furniture and all things practical than my in-town brother, and here he was acting like a dumbshit cowboy. Just to think, the perps have been cranking me on this angle for a lifetime and are still at it. Fucking sick.
There were other feints and dodges he got into to ensure that I was to know that there was family involvement with the perps, and the final deal was that he "needed" to go out of town after this for yet another garage sale event, so he couldn't drop me off at my place, and I had to take the bus back. And lo, if the travelling freakshow wasn't ready for me there. The theme color today was blue; the decor of the bus, the blue plastic recycle boxes at the curbside in a strange change of the pickup day from Mondays to Wednesdays, and a blue shirted PE class running along the main thoroughfare the bus took into town. I got plenty of blue dressed gangstalkers seated around me in this over-populous bus, and then they brought operative gangstalkers with these hideous red translucent plastic bags, under the cover story of it being "shopping". There is something about this color and its properties the perps know I don't like, and yet they are doing this almost everytime I am out, introducing this particular plastic bag color into my proximity. In the 10-15-2007 blog they did the same, when transiting from my ride to the elevator, putting this same bag type and color on show in a bizarrely elaborate hand off from one male black leather jacketed operative to a female operative with the same leather jacket color and style. Not my problem, so why am I being chased all over town with this dumbshit routine?
The all-quiet order is out; there has been an uncanny silence while typing this, and perhaps it is time to wrap this one up and start on the tea and chocolate games that are the perp's re-introduced routine for the afternoon.
1515h
I was allowed to phone in for a rare harassment victim's conference call last night, the "impetus" being that a near-local TI whom I have been in contact with was on as the guest speaker. And wouldn't you know, she got cut off some 10 minutes into her talk, and after a few minutes, was allowed to reconnect and call back in to resume. She recommends to "love your perps", even wave to them, and take the organized harassment message out there, and make it public. And for us TI's to not react to the insults, incursions and harassment games. I have yet to hear from an email I sent her, but the question I had is that if the perps are controlling one's reactions and emotional state as they appear to be doing to me, then how does one know if one is taking independent reaction or not, and acting contrary to what the perp's intended script?
She and I have had a few phone discussions, and I haven't met her in person, but it would seem to me that there are many hundreds, if not thousands of TI's that are being overtly harassed, and that each of one is on a particular script to fulfil the perp's objectives. There is more to this that I won't get into, but it does make me laugh at times when someone in this situation insists that they are resisting mind-control and have a recipie to do just this. Unless one arranges themselves in a constantly randomly changing magnetic field, possibly wearing some highly reflective clothing (e.g. sheilding metal fibers in the material), I cannot see how one can not succumb to the perp's targeted energies and the mind-control script they have planned. Just my opinion on all of this.
1645h
Four loud mufflered vehicles in succession, about two minutes apart each. All for some reason, and it is highly structured, as there hadn't been much of this all afternoon until after tea and chocolate (read, perp brown food obsession). Now the overhead rumbling and thumping has started up, also another first for today, and now hallway sourced coughing and spluttering too. And the evening time dinginess is also coming on, it will be time to turn on the lights soon. A noiseflurry of obvious timing, right after the scripted teatime.
Here are some news items that I wanted to bring into the dialog, and sound off on with my experience of being the perp whipping boy for over five years now, the testament to their utter thanklessness of being a covert target for a 47 year lifetime before they outed themselves to reveal their psychopathic organizational traits. And the same goes for all the asshole shills who have joined them; live this life for two weeks and see if you would of cooperated.
And mixing both the perp's propensity for toilet games and all things to do with their obsession over shit, and their abilities to curtail one's democratic citizens rights, here is a news item that has someone being cited for swearing over a blocked toilet. Assuming this is not a spoofed news story for my benefit, it has that ring of perp involvement; toilet overflow games, a high degree of victim emotional duress, and that the perps would have one's civil liberties impinged upon for just that. And it has been true in the past, the perps have sabotaged me taking a shit nearly everytime since 2003, flooding and blocking the toilet, and using the plunger to relieve the impasse, sometimes for over 20 minutes time, all to have someone else "help". (This at the last rooming house). And not having any choice in how I react, there was plenty of swearing, and reaction, and it just goes to show that their juvenility remains their most persistent trait. No doubt this story was created, and the news item planted upon me for some kind of resonant reaction for the perps to read in my mind, as I contend they have realtime neural monitoring and access to anyone they select. Along the way, other's lives get trashed too, and the fuckers don't seem to care about that too much.
And a local story on a major financial scam that went on in this town in recent years that hasn't fully played out. With the perp's interest in all my financial transactions, and all things related to that, I cannot help but think that they had a hand in this one, among the very population that has been helping them for the most part. Their unmitigated gall to fuck the individuals in the city that bends over backwards surely takes the cake for being supreme jerks. I wonder how they drew up the victims list; perhaps these people of some means refused to cooperate in some way. As I type this up a whole lot of outside vehicle beeping and overhead clunking is going on, so it is time to give this one a rest for now, and not ponder how the perps keep this city and its residents cooperative, and yet go on fuckover rampages that most anyone involved with them could surely figure out that their dark hands were likely likely guiding, of not explicitly controlling such events. Again, I have no model as to why the perps are involved in financial matters from an observational perspective, and I can only offer that they are looking for some kind of intrinsic "psi" energies they want to identify and quantify. The timing of the above Ian Thow story is also suspicious, as it begins (2003) when the perps had driven me back to this city, and continued while the harassment went on (2005). And how the better financial minds got suckered into this one is another aspect that I will leave for the moment. And as I am getting jabbed underfoot by some unseen force field, and children's voices can be overheard in the hallway, I should call off this news item review for now.
1730h
A sudden onset of rain at this time, the dusk duration for which the perps devote much attention to, as there are some physiological processes in the human body that react to an absence of light. Which tells me that the perps are still working on this, and this might be the reason they have had me listen to music after dark mostly, and not before. It just "seems" to work out that way, and in my tightly orchestrated and controlled life, there are no random moments or ungoverned recurring patterns. Thats my theory, and no one else has any interest in all these phenomenon, let alone come close to explaining all it and the interaction associations.
1925h
A bizarre clicking noise has started up, as if someone were turning of a bank of light switches one by one. I put on my earmuffs to deal this this soft noise, and lo, if the same noise didn't somehow penetrate this 26dB noise reduction hearing protection. And yet, the noise wasn't that loud to begin with. Very curious.
The evening time rain has come on, and still the noise of roaring motorcycles continues to fill the air. There is a game going on, possibly started by the perps, as there are in fact very few who choose to ride a motorcycle in the rain, and if they do, they do so very carefully. And so the perps had me notice this anomaly everytime; rainy weather = no motorcycles (by noise). Yesterday they planted one in front of me in the wet weather when walking back from gym class, and now, the perps have given themselves a carte blanche to put on motorcycle noise in today's rain. A very curious sequence of events to say the least. As always, "I" ask the question as to who do they think they are fooling, and how do they know when they are? Plenty of debate can be had with this question given the right company.
And some photographs from yesterday, also noting that some did not even get stored, or were deleted. Of note were two portly gangstalkers both wearing dark blue jackest were walking 40' ahead of me on the concrete sidewalk, who then cross the side road as it entered the thoroughfare street. They get to the opposite curb edge of the side street, and jointly and with a minumum of fuss, turn around and walk straight toward me covering their most recent tracks on the ashpalt surfaced side street first. One was wearing a green cotton T-shirt, and the other was wearing a red cotton T-shirt. Like a surreal movie, especially executing that "joint" about face and waking back.
On with the pictures, some coming out blurred again for no reason but perp fuckery.
The "Plastic Bag Man" comes to visit, some 100' away this time. Behind is the roadworks job, pulling up the street block I lived on from 05-2005 to 08-2006. Also behind is a yellow-green dayglo dressed flagperson, though none of them need to be there, as they don't have an active role.
A very elaborate setup; two two-tone vehicles of identical color burgundy/silver-grey color scheme with a blue vehicle between them. Also note the meter heads have been pulled off the street parking, now for over a month.
Nothing too odd about this, just a tourist shot of the street works that are going on, more advancement in ripping up more streets that I do, or recently did, traverse on my regular beat.
Next E. block and back to the burgundy color scheme again, though only single colors. This could be considered an emulation of the above photo with the two tone vehicles, this with a blue lamp pillar between them instead of a blue vehicle.
Further up the street a foursome combination of two identical reds with blue vehicle ahead of the lead red vehicle, and a dark green vehicle between them.
Same vehicles, just the latter portion of the foursome vehicle cluster; the two identical red colored vehicles, the dark green one between them, and a metallic teal blue/green vehicle on the opposite side of the street.
Back to this location again, always set up for silver-grey, grey and white vehicles, both mobile and parked. Two mobile silver-grey vehicles, the Volvo V70 in a slightly darker tone, one parked silver-grey close to the mobile cluster and one more further back in the parked file, between the pickup truck and the blue Mini.
A cluster of two white vehicles, and a tan or golden metallic finish SUV behind them. Another white vehicle making a right turn behind the lead white sedan. This same location at this intersection, had a cluster of six silver-grey vehicles coming from the opposite direction on my way back, pictured in a later blog.
More white vehicle clustering white waiting at the same intersection, and not including the white vehicles in the above photo. A red and a green were thrown into the mix, a common color association the perps repeat.
This was too easy; a setup to goad me into taking a picture of the postman, usually an operative going by their frequency of appearences. A red vehicle "sandwich" with two near-identical metallic tan sedans side by side.
2245h
Time to call this blog posting done for the day, and see how much sleep I get, likely timed for the small S. kitchen window narrow sunlight beams. This was likely behind today's late start, and this perp timing and feature has been blogged now three times in a week if recall correctly, now remotely fuckable by the same organization.
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