06-28-2017
A power failure after putting all the soup ingredients together in a pot on the stove. Maybe the soup was on for a minute or two, but it was not mixed up yet, nor blended which is what I usually do to get a puree type of soup. Why the Psychopaths needed to pull a power failure at this juncture I don't know, but they do love to mess with me when mixing foods. So perhaps this was an extended "hold" before it all went in the blender and got truly mixed. But also, the perps have a bizarre need to name-drop "soup" all the time, so maybe this was more of their silly games over this particular subject.
For some 30 min. it all sat there while I read about extra-terrestrial contact between the US Navy and the Nordics, as well as the competing alliance between the Reptilians and the USAF, CIA etc. Apparently, the FBI also aligns with the Nordics. It is well documented in the book "The US Navy's Secret Space Program and Nordic Extraterrestrial Alliance" by Michael Salla. He of Exopolitics, who expect/hope that the US government will publicly declare the existence of these associations. Dream on; its been nothing but subterfuge and deceit for a very long time, so why would it change? Even President Trump is touted as a breaker of this log jam, though I doubt it very much. He looks so very Reptilian himself, even as keeper of the governmental gong show that is unfolding of late. Didn't someone tell him that the Russians are aligned with the Nordics?
Back to Dullsville; tucking in the vineyard today, and it was forecast to be a all-day sunny day, but lo, if a rain storm didn't come down the valley at about 1400h, and send us running from the bottom of the vineyard uphill, to our vehicles to close their windows. Then to don a rain coat as the rain kept up, and then it got cooler later in the afternoon. And run I couldn't; just no gas, so I suppose my ferritin is down again after it got boosted with an IV in 09-2016.
And I see that someone entered my place in my absence today, and moved the slider on the switch for the overhead lights that I installed in 01-2017. Or else there was some other peculiar and unconventional method they used. This follows from three days ago when someone entered my vehicle, searched through the glove box, door pockets and other stowage nooks, seemingly to be looking for something valuable. Almost unbelievably, they overlooked the ashtray-like stowage at the base of the center console and missed some $5 in coins I keep there. Are the perps really that obvious, or do they send in an utter bozo in their place? Don't know, don't care, just leave me and my vehicle the fuck alone.
6-30-2017
Friday, and it was warm, about 30C in the vineyard. All day tucking shoots into the trellis wires. The arrangement was that I worked with the NZ woman for two hours, then the Difficult Dick, and then the NZ woman in the afternoon with the Difficult Dick hovering around in behind me. Why he didn't go to the other end of the row and work with his uncommunicative co-worker is beyond me. So yet again, this alternating arrangement for me to work with a woman, then a man, and then the same woman again. Haven't we done these same games at the checkout so many countless times? They are putting on more males at cashiers of late, a break in the long standing practice of female only.
One worker left for the long weekend yesterday, and another had to take the afternoon off to move his belongings. Just two pairs working the tucking today. But at least I had someone to talk to in the form of the NZ woman. The Difficult Dick can have his terse moods at times.
07-01-2017
Canada is 150 years old today, though I don't feel like celebrating knowing that it is a police state in disguise given my experiences. All that started a little over 15 years ago, in Seattle USA, but the Canadians are also full measure in keeping up this relentless abuse and gangstalking. I was driven into hospital at gunpoint, force given drugs that depleted my dopamine and made me substantially worse, and kept there for 5 fucking months. Meanwhile, the operatives, in the guise of patients, were stalking my ass around every corner and especially at the elevator and at meal times. And if you think I had any direct part in it, think again, or else read my Essential Introductory Postings for a primer (one page version) on what it is like to be kept as a nonconsensual human experimentation victim. Yes, one's world turns upside down when doctors are criminals and the police violate the law on behalf of the Psychopathic Confederacy. Slowly one begins to see patterns and suspects that so very much more in the world seems orchestrated and arranged. Anyhow, it is all a bummer story, and I will leave it at that.
A work get-together in the evening at the vineyard, for tasting room staff to meet the vineyard staff, and the owners were there too. The owners are people of significant influence; they have had a premier and a prime minister come by. Two of the tasting room staff didn't introduce themselves so I have no idea what their names are, both young, female and cute coincidentally. Only three of us vineyard grunts showed up; two are coupled and SO's weren't invited and one is away for the long weekend. The crew boss man came for a while, as did the tractor driver. One by one these folks left the party, and I remained the only vineyard person with the tasting room staff and the owners. Then a SO woman came with horrendous tattoos on her L arm, and lo, if she didn't sit down at my table with her L arm facing me. We chatted for a while, and the owner came too and joined the conversation. All was well and amiable.
At one point in the party, the owner (male) made a 25 minute presentation on the history of property and his intentions as to what he is attempting to achieve in winemaking. All the while these blackish maser dots and patterns floated around his head or else dropped between me and him. It was getting very distracting, trying to look at him and these blackish dots and wispy filamentous trails were around him. No doubt everyone else saw them too, but didn't say anything of course. This guy is a serious high achiever and a very personable one, so why he became my "maser mate" I have no idea. I am attracted to high achievers and movers and shakers, but only ethical ones, and he has my utmost respect, if not admiration. Whether this fits some perp experimental progression, I have no idea. Interestingly, my employers of the last two years were also high achievers, also ethical ones, but were rather impersonable. Don't ask me how all this fits the perp plan, but it is interesting the perps love me to meet business owners, building landlords etc.
In all of the banter of the party, it was clear there were a few planned topics; cancer and prostate cancer (which I have, but wasn't revealed to anyone there so theoretically they don't know I have it), some friends who have died recently etc. The meal was pizza, and lo, if I didn't "forget" that I should not be eating cheese on my current medication, and lo, if I didn't "forget" that I avoid gluten based foods, i.e. the pizza crust. All went well and I did nothing to distinguish myself and was the perfect guest as far as I know.
07-02-2017
And lo, if I didn't wake up clogged and fogged and very sinus congested. Only after a half hour of waking time was I allowed to associate my condition with last night's pizza dinner. I have the experience to figure this out right away, but all my normal faculties are so messed with that my new normal is plain abnormal.
I worked this Sunday at the weekend job site all by myself, as it is a post-Canada Day "recovery" day. It was hot out, and I am still tired this evening. I am still getting bombarded with notions of going to LL for proton beam therapy, despite the fact that I don't have anything like the needed funds, some $86k. Why I get stiffed with undoable notions for 10 months, all related to making such a trip and getting such treatment I have no idea, but pummeling me with planted thoughts is nothing new.
Anyhow, time to post this for the inter-web and call it a night.
Showing posts with label power outage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label power outage. Show all posts
Sunday, July 02, 2017
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Colonscopy; Onward Brownward Soldiers
1245h
This medical procedure, colonscopy, just "happens" to be one of acute interest to the perps, as is the color brown, long detailed in this collection of blog postings to date. And it is at least of some humor to me at least, that the President is recieving such treatment, as the topic, color, act of all things shit and all related issues, continues to be of intense perp interest. My brother has had two such procedures, both routine, in the last five years (when the overt harassment began, 04-2002), and so did my fairweather "friend" of my story, Ms. L in early 2002, before the overt harassment began. And in fact, they had their respective colons cleansed only weeks apart, something that I thought was mighty curious at the time, but could not determine any reason. It was only in late 2003 or early 2004 when the perps declared their color specific harassment agenda, and then all the toilet games, plunging, sewage backups and the rest of it that I was allowed to put it all together.
So what does it mean, the president's colonoscopy, and the intensive shit and brown games of the perps? One could easily ascertain that he is under the perp's research microscope, and their studies have lead to him "needing" this de-browning event. Why him, and not all the possible thousands of other colonoscopies that take place in North America? I am not entirely sure, but in many instances the perps like certain topics to be very public, and all the better if it is someone they may have been studying for a long time. And as I am fresh from reading Dean Radin's books on psi energies, and entangled matter over distances, (see yesterday's blog posting), there just may be a connection with these energies, and specific colors. And who better to have as public psi energy detection bait than the prez? All very speculative, and I will leave it at that, as just more lose ends in this continuum of exceptional coincidences called "the life I lead". Or more correctly, the life that is scripted for me, down to the nanosecond to trivialities such as fleeting glances and breakfast cereal flake behavior (spinning, flipping, cantilevering beyond normal etc.).
1400h
I had my usual adversarial lunch making, courtesy of the perp's extra-gravitational energy games, e.g. laterally flying cheese shreddings. And they have renewed the game of forced "forgets", the oven broiler being left on is an endless game of jerking me around. Then this stunt spawns two more games; continued oven clicking as it cools down, and a smell emanating from the oven, as if burning residual crustings, of which there are none, as this is a new stove. No matter, for them, plausibility is only a game, but it does make me wonder if they think someone is watching them, perish the thought.
And having me rant at these intrusions, and the usual 20 to 40 for such an mealtime event is all part of the harassment/research agenda, as is vocalizing at the appropriate time for them part of the continuation of mind control research. Their biggest stunts and consequently controlled "reactions" that are imposed upon me are reserved for applying peanut butter and jam to my bread at breakfast time. As in, every morning. This of course is a brown colored substance with a red one overlaid, and this color combination is also of intense perp interest. I cannot count the number of public ambulatory gangstalkings where a brown shirted operative stands in front of a red shirted operative, usually in profile and then facing me (or back facing me). And if time permits, they will usually swap positions and then again rotate through a one quarter circle arc to again offer more variability. And it is highly likely that all these operatives are managed for how much brown they are packing inside them, just as they do for me.
Onto more uplifting topics, thought I don't know what it could be. Something like getting blanked out is becoming more frequent, and is pissing me off of late. This is at the yoga class check-in where I usually have something in mind to say, or more like, something planted in mind to regurgitate. Of late, the perps are blanking me of all thoughts as to what to say, and I am temporarily stuck for words. This situation and a few others of like kind suggest that they now mind-control me for all verbalizations, in speech or in writing, and are able to usurp these faculties at will to supply planted articulations or to render me literally speechless. Past experience has also taught me that they can create a stuttering situation, and this has never been a problem before they "arrived" to fuck my life more than they already had.
I encountered a gangstalking blog, of similar experience to mine, though gangstalking is only half of my harassment picture, as I would likely be allowed to hold a job if this were the case. But as a highly managed, (read, fucked with), Targeted Individual, the perps do not want me undertaking employment or varying my activities very much. As mentioned in past blogs, and in the Essential Postings to the right, I eat the same lunch and dinner foods with minor variations, and "somehow", (read, mind-control), I don't mind this. Read the About section of the above blog for the testimonies of yet more individuals being cast into this perpetual depraved purgatory. And they won't let me watch movies either; I never get "motivated" and it never happens, even if I have a strong intent and it is a logistical breeze, as the cinemas are only a half block away.
1920h
This late start day, another 10.5 hours of sleep when I only need 8 hours at best, has me finishing my reheated tortillas dinner at 1900h, likely a near dusk timing for perp games and their ongoing fixation over energy fields at this time of day, and with respect to the color red.
I did get out for 10 minutes of shopping time, then followed by tea at my place and then an hour read of the Globe and Mail newspaper. It was a very light "fairy rain" when outside, and once I started the newspaper, the rains came down, and the perps continued their vehicular and ambulatory gangstalking outside, along with the maser and plasma show in my field of vision. Not a shut-in day as it was looking to be. I can only assume I was duly preped in my apartment before I set off, and the perps are looking to measure the same energies at the nearby supermarket as they can in my apartment. So, in other words, the gangstalking swarms were all in place, though for the most part they didn't drive up my ass, and kept their gangstalkers reprising in the aisles. That is, one gangstalker on me once I had just arrived in the store, and then again when I was exiting the aisle after picking up my few groceries. I got the parade of male gangstalkers at the cooler case, three of them in file "just" loping through, never mind the shopping cover story. And no significant checkout obstruction, just the dude ahead packing his groceries into a blue duffel bag with white stripes and having his paper towels wedged in the checkout plastic bag dispensing device. And lo, if that same device loaded with ready plastic bags, once free of the paper towels "just sitting" in it, wasn't spun and turned for my groceries by the cashier, and one corner of it was one inch away from the debit card reader.
Regular readers will know that the act of paying for something is of intense interest, and the moment is subject to much noisestalking, coughing, background chatter, cellphoning, planted sentries with their wood canes doing nothing else but look like the swim club member I once knew, and dozens of other feints for that oh-so important moment. I got some wisdom from David Icke of all people on the possible relevance of money and financial transactions to the perp's ongoing stalking of such activity. He wrote that money was a form of energy, and it can be good or bad, depending on how it was earned. I thought that was interesting, and while it might sound flakey, it lines up with the enormous interest of the perps with respect to my financial transactions. (The perps routine jerk me around when updating my finances in Quicken and online banking. My ATM visits are also of significant interest to them).
Anyhow, any visit outside is always a freakshow, and I got my "plastic bag men" today, the dudes (read, operatives) pushing a grocery cart full of garbage bags full of pop cans and plastic pop bottles. Other freak treats were the negro stalking again, the two blonde dudes emerging from the elevator when arriving back, the leatherjacket act, and the operative stacking, where at least three of them arranged to stand in front of the other in anticipation of me taking a picture of this arrangement. I am now convinced the camera is more of a liability to take than not. If there is an extra freaky photogenic moment, the perps manage me to "forget" to take a picture. The on-street sweater flicking event of a few weeks back being one such occasion. And to lapse into my mind-fuck rant, I don't have a blog hit counter, so I have no idea if the few pictures I put up are of any interest to readers.
07-22-2007
1040h
I got snookered for three hours with a power outage that took out this building and most of what I could see in my view. It came at dusk, like the last one, as do many other perp sponsored special events, about 2006h or so, and ended when I was 20 seconds within getting to bed for an early night of shuteye, another often noisestalked transition time.
There was natural light for the first hour, even with the rain coming down, and in the opposite tower's oversized grey painted courtyard some 120' away, the perps put on single ambulatory operatives on gangstalking duty, wearing variations of red, starting with women in pink raincoats, then a large woman in all white (no coat in the rain), even her shoes, (like a 1960's nurse), and finally graduating up to men in red and black or grey checked jackets on "stand around" duty, lined up. I try not to watch all of this, but every so often I am mind-controlled to do so, and the final act was a 15 member file of operatives lined up at the door, nearly all males as far as I could tell, and none of them in a raincoat while the rain was coming down. It is simply amazing as how so many men clustered outside in the rain in a power outage, and then individually walk past the organized file of their operative colleagues to the door inside. One in front of another, the operative/gangstalker "stacking" game, men's night.
And yes, power outages have happened before in this five year long (and counting) nonstop harassment and freakshow, going back to repeats; same store, different time of day as one example. Another one at my parents a few years ago, and some other anomalies that I cannot recall. Stories like "an owl flew into a transformer at the switching station" abound, and given that the perps can cause just about any oddity to occur as "natural circumstances", I don't really care what the stated reasons were.
And while there was no electrical power the usual noisescape started up, intensified even. The sirens, street hollaring, hallway conversations, overhead rumbling and thumping, bus noises with squealing brakes in the wet no less, the loud mufflered vehicles (perforated and "performance" mufflers), and even some heavy duty vehicles and tour buses. Most of this I did not see, as I was journaling in my written diary with an LED headlamp and a candle lantern. The latter item was of great interest to the perps who projected plasma beams from the lantern and arranged light clusters around the flame, as if I was looking through special effects filters. After two hours of this, they let me see the candle lantern flame as is, unembellished with the exotic light properties manipulations.
This medical procedure, colonscopy, just "happens" to be one of acute interest to the perps, as is the color brown, long detailed in this collection of blog postings to date. And it is at least of some humor to me at least, that the President is recieving such treatment, as the topic, color, act of all things shit and all related issues, continues to be of intense perp interest. My brother has had two such procedures, both routine, in the last five years (when the overt harassment began, 04-2002), and so did my fairweather "friend" of my story, Ms. L in early 2002, before the overt harassment began. And in fact, they had their respective colons cleansed only weeks apart, something that I thought was mighty curious at the time, but could not determine any reason. It was only in late 2003 or early 2004 when the perps declared their color specific harassment agenda, and then all the toilet games, plunging, sewage backups and the rest of it that I was allowed to put it all together.
So what does it mean, the president's colonoscopy, and the intensive shit and brown games of the perps? One could easily ascertain that he is under the perp's research microscope, and their studies have lead to him "needing" this de-browning event. Why him, and not all the possible thousands of other colonoscopies that take place in North America? I am not entirely sure, but in many instances the perps like certain topics to be very public, and all the better if it is someone they may have been studying for a long time. And as I am fresh from reading Dean Radin's books on psi energies, and entangled matter over distances, (see yesterday's blog posting), there just may be a connection with these energies, and specific colors. And who better to have as public psi energy detection bait than the prez? All very speculative, and I will leave it at that, as just more lose ends in this continuum of exceptional coincidences called "the life I lead". Or more correctly, the life that is scripted for me, down to the nanosecond to trivialities such as fleeting glances and breakfast cereal flake behavior (spinning, flipping, cantilevering beyond normal etc.).
1400h
I had my usual adversarial lunch making, courtesy of the perp's extra-gravitational energy games, e.g. laterally flying cheese shreddings. And they have renewed the game of forced "forgets", the oven broiler being left on is an endless game of jerking me around. Then this stunt spawns two more games; continued oven clicking as it cools down, and a smell emanating from the oven, as if burning residual crustings, of which there are none, as this is a new stove. No matter, for them, plausibility is only a game, but it does make me wonder if they think someone is watching them, perish the thought.
And having me rant at these intrusions, and the usual 20 to 40 for such an mealtime event is all part of the harassment/research agenda, as is vocalizing at the appropriate time for them part of the continuation of mind control research. Their biggest stunts and consequently controlled "reactions" that are imposed upon me are reserved for applying peanut butter and jam to my bread at breakfast time. As in, every morning. This of course is a brown colored substance with a red one overlaid, and this color combination is also of intense perp interest. I cannot count the number of public ambulatory gangstalkings where a brown shirted operative stands in front of a red shirted operative, usually in profile and then facing me (or back facing me). And if time permits, they will usually swap positions and then again rotate through a one quarter circle arc to again offer more variability. And it is highly likely that all these operatives are managed for how much brown they are packing inside them, just as they do for me.
Onto more uplifting topics, thought I don't know what it could be. Something like getting blanked out is becoming more frequent, and is pissing me off of late. This is at the yoga class check-in where I usually have something in mind to say, or more like, something planted in mind to regurgitate. Of late, the perps are blanking me of all thoughts as to what to say, and I am temporarily stuck for words. This situation and a few others of like kind suggest that they now mind-control me for all verbalizations, in speech or in writing, and are able to usurp these faculties at will to supply planted articulations or to render me literally speechless. Past experience has also taught me that they can create a stuttering situation, and this has never been a problem before they "arrived" to fuck my life more than they already had.
I encountered a gangstalking blog, of similar experience to mine, though gangstalking is only half of my harassment picture, as I would likely be allowed to hold a job if this were the case. But as a highly managed, (read, fucked with), Targeted Individual, the perps do not want me undertaking employment or varying my activities very much. As mentioned in past blogs, and in the Essential Postings to the right, I eat the same lunch and dinner foods with minor variations, and "somehow", (read, mind-control), I don't mind this. Read the About section of the above blog for the testimonies of yet more individuals being cast into this perpetual depraved purgatory. And they won't let me watch movies either; I never get "motivated" and it never happens, even if I have a strong intent and it is a logistical breeze, as the cinemas are only a half block away.
1920h
This late start day, another 10.5 hours of sleep when I only need 8 hours at best, has me finishing my reheated tortillas dinner at 1900h, likely a near dusk timing for perp games and their ongoing fixation over energy fields at this time of day, and with respect to the color red.
I did get out for 10 minutes of shopping time, then followed by tea at my place and then an hour read of the Globe and Mail newspaper. It was a very light "fairy rain" when outside, and once I started the newspaper, the rains came down, and the perps continued their vehicular and ambulatory gangstalking outside, along with the maser and plasma show in my field of vision. Not a shut-in day as it was looking to be. I can only assume I was duly preped in my apartment before I set off, and the perps are looking to measure the same energies at the nearby supermarket as they can in my apartment. So, in other words, the gangstalking swarms were all in place, though for the most part they didn't drive up my ass, and kept their gangstalkers reprising in the aisles. That is, one gangstalker on me once I had just arrived in the store, and then again when I was exiting the aisle after picking up my few groceries. I got the parade of male gangstalkers at the cooler case, three of them in file "just" loping through, never mind the shopping cover story. And no significant checkout obstruction, just the dude ahead packing his groceries into a blue duffel bag with white stripes and having his paper towels wedged in the checkout plastic bag dispensing device. And lo, if that same device loaded with ready plastic bags, once free of the paper towels "just sitting" in it, wasn't spun and turned for my groceries by the cashier, and one corner of it was one inch away from the debit card reader.
Regular readers will know that the act of paying for something is of intense interest, and the moment is subject to much noisestalking, coughing, background chatter, cellphoning, planted sentries with their wood canes doing nothing else but look like the swim club member I once knew, and dozens of other feints for that oh-so important moment. I got some wisdom from David Icke of all people on the possible relevance of money and financial transactions to the perp's ongoing stalking of such activity. He wrote that money was a form of energy, and it can be good or bad, depending on how it was earned. I thought that was interesting, and while it might sound flakey, it lines up with the enormous interest of the perps with respect to my financial transactions. (The perps routine jerk me around when updating my finances in Quicken and online banking. My ATM visits are also of significant interest to them).
Anyhow, any visit outside is always a freakshow, and I got my "plastic bag men" today, the dudes (read, operatives) pushing a grocery cart full of garbage bags full of pop cans and plastic pop bottles. Other freak treats were the negro stalking again, the two blonde dudes emerging from the elevator when arriving back, the leatherjacket act, and the operative stacking, where at least three of them arranged to stand in front of the other in anticipation of me taking a picture of this arrangement. I am now convinced the camera is more of a liability to take than not. If there is an extra freaky photogenic moment, the perps manage me to "forget" to take a picture. The on-street sweater flicking event of a few weeks back being one such occasion. And to lapse into my mind-fuck rant, I don't have a blog hit counter, so I have no idea if the few pictures I put up are of any interest to readers.
07-22-2007
1040h
I got snookered for three hours with a power outage that took out this building and most of what I could see in my view. It came at dusk, like the last one, as do many other perp sponsored special events, about 2006h or so, and ended when I was 20 seconds within getting to bed for an early night of shuteye, another often noisestalked transition time.
There was natural light for the first hour, even with the rain coming down, and in the opposite tower's oversized grey painted courtyard some 120' away, the perps put on single ambulatory operatives on gangstalking duty, wearing variations of red, starting with women in pink raincoats, then a large woman in all white (no coat in the rain), even her shoes, (like a 1960's nurse), and finally graduating up to men in red and black or grey checked jackets on "stand around" duty, lined up. I try not to watch all of this, but every so often I am mind-controlled to do so, and the final act was a 15 member file of operatives lined up at the door, nearly all males as far as I could tell, and none of them in a raincoat while the rain was coming down. It is simply amazing as how so many men clustered outside in the rain in a power outage, and then individually walk past the organized file of their operative colleagues to the door inside. One in front of another, the operative/gangstalker "stacking" game, men's night.
And yes, power outages have happened before in this five year long (and counting) nonstop harassment and freakshow, going back to repeats; same store, different time of day as one example. Another one at my parents a few years ago, and some other anomalies that I cannot recall. Stories like "an owl flew into a transformer at the switching station" abound, and given that the perps can cause just about any oddity to occur as "natural circumstances", I don't really care what the stated reasons were.
And while there was no electrical power the usual noisescape started up, intensified even. The sirens, street hollaring, hallway conversations, overhead rumbling and thumping, bus noises with squealing brakes in the wet no less, the loud mufflered vehicles (perforated and "performance" mufflers), and even some heavy duty vehicles and tour buses. Most of this I did not see, as I was journaling in my written diary with an LED headlamp and a candle lantern. The latter item was of great interest to the perps who projected plasma beams from the lantern and arranged light clusters around the flame, as if I was looking through special effects filters. After two hours of this, they let me see the candle lantern flame as is, unembellished with the exotic light properties manipulations.
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