Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Fruit Fly Follies & Tax Return "Forgotten"

The tax return I thought was stolen was found (per mind-control planted notion) in my file box, having being a continuing issue when I moved. And it so happens that all the associated events leading up to its (planned) misplacement were also forgotten. That is, for the fourth year in succession, the tax authorities have "re-assessed" and disallowed my claim of spousal support. And each year I send them the same documents, and they then reverse the disallowed
deduction; as in, I won, they lost to be blunt. Next year I suspect they will find something else, as I did not pay spousal support this entire year. And maybe they won't dither me so I can fill out my own tax return for the first time in six years, something they haven't let me do. All that jerking around to send me across town with all the gangstalking to come up empty over a memory fuckover by remote means.

Assault by fruit fly is what today is amounting to. I am being kept off fruit for some reason, and yet these fruit flies have increased. They magically pop out of thin air in front of my face (2" away) and circle me, sometimes as often as three times in five minutes. Two "arrived in my face as I was about to take a shower, so it would seem that the perps use them as surrogates when all their maser and plasma action just isn't good enough, or might exceed their guidelines of the moment as being too obvious. And my batting average is still low because they also have a "habit" of disappearing in my hand as soon as it closes over it.

A banking day, of only a TI kind; a six block walk downtown amidst the gangstalking throngs to get $350 cash from the bank to save $50 on rent. A perfect setup for that junket again. The most obvious stunt was to have two young blondes both in white jackets in the front window lounging on the bank's furniture, and when I entered, they and two males all stood up together and crossed in front of my path on my way to the teller line. Like clockwork, or The Clockwork Blondes perhaps. And there was at least one MIB tight on my ass, 2' behind me, all circumstances totally planned with precision.

And it tells me that the perps don't understand the energetics of toilet paper and I am their test dummy for the next x years on top of the past four. Fucking sick and depraved that they are so gutless to undertake nonconsensual human experimentation by only remote means. The best they can do is send in gangstalkers, fruit flies, maser and plasma beams, all the while they think they are fooling someone.

A whole evening spent on Firefox 2.0- upgrading, and with all the fabulous features availible in about:config (in the address bar), it has an extreme degree of customization. And lo, if "I" didn't discover a tweaking site and mess with that and get into a bind and have to dig my way out. All of that high attention activity conducted with the noisescape of firecrackers, sirens, vehicles with loud mufflers etc. (window open all the time), it strikes me that this too was another mind-controlled tour de force.

In the past I have been noisestalked when doing software loads or upgrades, but this "coincidence" of high attentiveness and high transient noise was a once per year event. More evidence to suggest how rabid the perps are about keeping up the pretense of no one "noticing". And too, anytime "I" shift in my seat, move, complain over a keystroke jerkaround, etc., firecrackers will also go off. Sometimes they will even lift my hand with the mouse up off the pad, and script a firecracker for that moment. A made in perpland special, and for them, it is better than Christmas.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Stolen 2005 Tax Return & More TT Brown Musings

Quite the jerkaround this morning: a trip to my brother's place to find out that my income tax return for 2005 was stolen. I take meticulious care and file them in an orderly location, and it was gone. This is the second such incident in 6 years, and as blatant as the first time. The hour and a half trip was a total skunk; the income tax return was gone from its labelled file folder, the adapter for the phone was not where the phone was packed, and the instructions to change the time on my watch were buried too deep. In the latter case, the perps have forced me to take my watch to the jewellers and have them change the time. That was when I had the instructions, and followed them exactly, and yet the perps hacked the watch. Back to that again; fucking pathetic.

And the two-way bus trip was quite the gangstalker gauntlet; the perps even had all the street lights on at 0900h this morning, presumably to add to their assay activities. And three ashphalt exposures; the paving of patches in the street walking my route. I had a shift of a girls' phys ed class gangstalk me, or pass by, and then it was onto the surfeit of working age men on a weekday shift. They come in all ages and guises, though the limping act played at least three times, one being in military uniform no less. And the coughing and hacking act followed me onto the bus, sometimes they occured from seeming disparate sources simutaneously.

This is post second bus trip today, this one to the doctor. He was in bad shape with a real cold, and had an extra low and measured voice. He asks me to tell him what is going on, I do my spiel, and then there are these ponderous silences when neither of us says anything. Then he asks for more details, but never driving down on any one of them to verify the facts. And as soon as I tell him that there are others who can describe 95% of the harassment experience in exhaustive detail, and lobby their congressman to no avail, and there is nothing they can do, he has a caniption saying he wants to know what I am going to do. There is always at least one angst moment per consult (his or mine), and that was it. There is at least one from-outer-space moment as well, as I (with the caveat that it was likely a mind-control planted question) asked him if he had come to a diagnosis yet, and he tells me that is not his job (!). Fucking bizarre to say the least, and at least one every appointment. Thankfully the next appointment is in six weeks time and no new medications/assaults.

Again I had my bus followers, one getting ahead of me at the stop, and in crossing the street, and then he takes a circuititous route to the waiting room so he winds up behind me. This being a 60 y.o. male in a camoflage jacket, and that is a very rare bird in these parts. I was wearing my olive drab raincoat, and maybe that had something to do with it. And at least two more limping male gangstalkers on this latter round trip.

The perps are also increasing the number of furniture exposures; at least two "moves" where a trailer behind a truck was full of wood furniture. I also noted that my brother was working on a door when I got there. An native indian wood carver brought his wood on the bus with him as a some kind of wood energetics test I assume. It could be that the perps are making more progress on their brown color problems, though they did put a blonde woman in brown clothing on the bus I noted. I got at least two starings today.

The sunlighting has been especially strange today; there are few clouds and yet there is a significant backlit appearance as well as a high amount of reflectivity off vehicles. This serves to mask the percieved colors of a person's clothing or of vehicles, or at least until they are substantially closer. The perps like to set up dark navy blues, dark browns and black colors in these circumstances and have one follow (person, vehicle) the other, usually oncoming so the colors are not truly apparent at first. All this is important to the sickos running the show; I don't really care except that I want them gone for good, though no one can really know that, as I didn't for 47 years until they began this overt harassment phase.

And the doctor was ready for the very phrase I often use in describing the loud vehicles that circulate about me with great prevalence. As soon as I said my stock phrase (not repeated here), he burst out coughing. Simply amazing, that I am scripted to the precise words to say, and when I use the (usually) familiar refrain, the shill begins coughing. everything I say or do as such profound significance for these assholes, and believe me, I do nothing exciting with this burden on my back.

As at least intimated, the perps have an obsession with everything brown, and that includes the contents of my bowels. They often cause my bowel contents to move about by remote means; I call it shit shunting as that effectively describes it. These intrusions can "happen" anywhere, and it is no coincidence it is near bropwn colored external objects. And on top of that, they had me scripted for a colossal shit, which was duly noisestalked by the entrances and exits of "residents" of this rooming house, or a noise facsimilie thereof. And never to miss out on fucking me over some more, a blocked toilet was also scripted with a following shower to clean up the mess they plastered on my ass. They had been allowing me to take a normal clean shit for the past three weeks or so, but the perp's juvenility came back, and they needed lots of shit action to entertain their new recruits.

I figure they must rotate crews around; the put some on laundry hijinx, some on shit, some on overall sabotage, some on asphalt duty etc. and then move them from one obsession to another. So, there were at least ten comings and goings plus the S. side bathroom tenant pounding the wall while I was taking today's shit, and given that they must have organizational overhead and backup plans, there had to be at least 50 of the sickos in on exactly when I take a crap. And judging my the overhead pounding on the floor above of Mr. Eviction-Fiction's antics, it is time to leave this topic altogether.

Time to talk about Thomas Townsend Brown for a speculative break. I have been reading his journals posted here. There is no question he is an astute applied thinker of the physics of gravitaics and related electromagnetism. And I have confirmed a few things from these journals, especially if it relates to the perps' sabotage operations. But I am a loss to think how he fits into the entire black operations world, especially when he is only contemplating the existence of the ether, sidereal radiation or gravitational radiation in 1976. In my personal experience, the perps were pulling mind control and action at a distance gravitaic modification (read, stunts, harassment) early in my life, and long before TT Brown came to these thoughtful hypothesizations. Which does blow a hole in my concept of a single malign black operations/secret government agency. It is clear to me that there is a temporal disconnect between where the perps were at, and where he was at going by the content of these journals.

So it could be that these journals are false, planted to have him appear to make tentative speculations as to gravitaics, but it always struck me that he was a leading edge graviatics reasearcher in the 1920's (e.g. the gravitator). His last act was to bundle up his papers and take them to his superiors for "safekeeping".

In journal #1, the following excerpt:

Leesburg VA, Oct. 7, 1955 (a) An announcement has been made both in the newspapers and on the radio (within the last few days) that the contract for the launching gear of the proposed space satellite has been awarded the Glenn S. Martin Co and the contract for the rocket motor to General Electric. This brings to mind the statement of M. K. Jessup in "The Case for the UFO" --- "If the money, thought, time and energy now being poured uselessly into the development of rocket propulsion were invested in a basic study of gravitation, it is altogether likely that we could have effective and economical space travel, at a small fraction of the ultimate cost which we are now incurring, within one decade".

This is attributed to a colleague of TT Brown, M. K. Jessup, though I surmise, and it seems clear in later journal entries, that TT Brown concurrs. I was one year old then, and obviously unaware of been surveilled and monitored, but my hindsight supposition is that they were already on me then, applying some kind of brain developmental impairing irradiation that was evident from test scores in 1960 or 1961. I am assuming that the action at a distance activities would have been equally developed as locating and irradiating some one, and monitoring all their energetic interactions.

My mother tells me that when I was two years old on the passenger liner from the UK to Canada, that "I" lobbed a dinner bun over my shoulder and it landed in an nearby passenger's soup, and it splattered all over his clothing. A fluke; possibly, but in light of everything else that has unfolded, hardly. My ~6 y.o. daughter also did something similar with bocce balls at a summer garden party and it missed everyone. Yet again, same analysis; hardly a fluke when the perps are constantly playing with brown and white crumbs in my presence that are smaller than pinheads.

Another entry is as follows:
Page 100
This suggests that, if a dielectric fluid is present (perhaps ether), it is moved in the opposite direction thru the solid dielectric material. Perhaps a kind of "ether pump"...
with some diagrams that follow. It strikes me that if he was uncertain as the to the probability of the ether, then he was a long way from knowing the perps' true understanding of gravitaic manipulations. Or, at least that is how it seems. Later writings in his journal reflect on speculations on photonic, gyronic and gravitonic interactions. From my rarified view of graviatic harassment, aka action (or assholes, or....) at a distance, it seems that all these concepts would of been fully known in detail to TT Brown if he were in with the same black ops crowd that is fucking me over 24/7. (And pounding the floor overhead anytime I search the term "ether" as I write this.)

So it seems that there maybe competing black operations at that time, and TT Brown was aligned with the ones that were less advanced, or that these journals aren't what they seem. This is speculation on my part, but as mentioned, there is a temporal disconnect based on my experiences at the butt end of it, so to speak.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

Mind Block

There are many more instances of mind block of late than in my lifetime. Even looking at something doesn't remind me of what I need to do. This too, is a never-before BOH event, and I can assume that the perps have total control over all my ability to make the associations I once did. They are very close to total mind control, but are keeping up the noisestalking action.

Today, another manager/resident "disagreement" stunt broke out in the hallway, with all kind of ructions, and from the sound of it, even the police came afterward. At one point the manager said "don't bother the tenants", though I assume it doesn't apply to Mr Eviction Fiction, as he has kept up the overhead clunking and floorboard squeaking. The latter sound is expectable to a degree, but normal tenancy does not include dumping weights on the floor, or taking a hammer to it. Especially precisely overhead, which is usually the case. Later, the all-quiet order went out, and then it was thus; all part of the familiar pattern.

At breakfast the perps had me in a rage over peanut butter and jam being applied to bread; they modify the physical properties it have it flip and jump about, which is to piss me off, though I suspect my reaction is also governed by them. It is so consistent each morning, which tells me that this brown and red colored food combination is of extreme interest, which it has been for > 4 years now. They even had a brown vehicle drive up beside my room, with the driver eventually exiting to then stand beside his vehicle (wearing a brown coat, peanut butter colored), in an apparent arrangement to talk to Mr. Eviction-Fiction overhead. Then this gangstalker/vehicle combination departed and then made a repeat visit within 20 minutes for my shower (next door) and shaving time.

Anyhow, the perps let me get to sleep last night in a reasonable time, without the enforced restlessness that they have being applying to me. They did wake me up to seen their grainy light show, one that I have seen countless times, though I have no idea why I must be forced to see it. As mentioned before, the lighting conditions are as if one was looking at a very grainy black and white photograph. They are also pulling bed covers and sheets in the night; having me partially covered with sheets only, or covers only. This has been going on since I got here. The ostensible cause is that this single bed doesn't allow for the tidy placement and securement of my double bed size sheets and cover. So, with that excuse, the bedding routinely goes every which way in the night, as its movements are likely another facet of the perps' studies on clothing colors and my energetic interactions. And making the bed serves as the opening piss-off of the day, having me fight their application of graviatic control; e.g. covers drop from my hand, the bedding won't lie as if it were under conventional forces etc..

Anyhow, so far, another shut-in day, even with the extra hour; the usual "disinclination" to set off and get a newspaper has come over me. So more internet time, though it has its limits too as far as a meaningful activity. Though they did let me read some interesting articles on Conrad Black and his matrimonial travails and noisestalked me the entire time. Any subject can be noisestalked; reading his name, financial figures, exceptional activities ($250,000 bathroom modification on his private jet), other well known names, and so it goes. Every dot and comma is of consuming interest to the perps signified by their planted noises while I read.

The incandescent light in the bathroom was taken out, and by some dint of feigned idiocy, the bathroom window is blue plastic covered, and therefore the showering routine was conducted in a blue dinge. When I took my shirt off, the perps planted a red flash of plasma for me to see, all part of the endless experimentation that they are up to, and in no way contrite over their past fuckups that led to their nonstop harassment venality. Or at least, that is the way I read it, chasing me with PVC pipe all over town, and even zapping when I encounter the word itself. Endless and relentless fuckery.

I am back from Feral Family Dinner, having come back with my pack and briefcase and intending to stay there for the night. But I got a ride home as I need to do two bus trips tomorrow for my appointments. And the perps mind-fucked me again when reading the bus timetable, which they have done some five times in succession for the bus to my parents' place. The wrong bus, day of the week, or somehow; they make sure I am hung out to dry at the bus stop for a half hour when I intended it to be 5 minutes. This is another never-before, "misreading" bus timetables. This never happened before the sickos invaded my life, and it all centers around passing more vehicles past me in their color coordinated formations. They essentially create rush-hour traffic conditions on a Sunday afternoon for all the gangstalking vehicles that are on the road.

Then ditto for the bus trip; at least 40 "passengers" on the bus when I got on, an absurd number of passengers for a Sunday, 10 would be more realistic. There was the familiar setup of being only one seat availible, this next to a woman in a light blue coat. They had three cell phoning gangstalkers staked around me, and they were constantly on them. One was East Indian, the other a darker complexion, the latter very close to me in his large white jacket. Anyhow, there was the usual rotation of Asians, some chatting away in their native tongue, and some extra standees who made sure to block my view of the road ahead, even with availible seats. It would seem that they like to close down what I see at first, and then gradually allow me more viewscape. Which is not too different than the games of planting vehicles of particular colors outside my room in the adjacent parking lot. I also got the brown leather jacket in the face in one scenario on the bus, which doesn't surprise me, as leather seems to be a favorite gangstalking garment fabric owing to the metal salts used in the tanning process. Black leather is a gangstalker favorite.

Anyhow, my ex-wife was invited for dinner, and she brought a newly acquired copy of the Reverend John Browns' Self Interpreting Bible, which was first published 1778. As it turns out, it was a “best-seller” throughout the remainder of the 18th century and well into the 19th. The Reverend John Brown is my mother's 4x (?) great grandfather. I had a brief look at it, and it seems to be a very helpful tome in understanding the bible for all those who find the language and terms daunting as it has side panels that explain the stories in plain English. And even more helpful is a very thorough reference section in the latter third of the book which cross references names, stories, themes, alternate names, locations to distill even more meaning. I can understand why it was such an important bible version and wonder why it isn't in use now.

All that infernal wasted time I spent in Sunday School (5 years) with the teachings going over my head, and here is a version of the bible that makes sense in plain English, and even more ironic, written by an ancestor.

And plenty of topic and name dropping at dinner tonight, and even Ms. C got a query as to her whereabouts, as it has been >3 years since I have seen her. Funny that she sent a Halloween card two days ago, as she hadn't sent any for a year. Tonight duck was cooked, and I was the person to cut it up, and like last week, they all got out of the kitchen while I cut the fat off and carved the bird up. And there were some annoting perp stunts in gravity defying meat flicking and hanging chads of skin or meat that resisted being cut. More fucking trial. This did remind me of a time > two decades ago when my parents and I shared a whole fish 35lb halibut, and I did the cutting honors then. Little did I know I was being monitored up the asshole for some energetics properties about which I still have yet to understand.

This time post-dinner tea was metered to one cup each, and the perps mind-fucked me into thinking I had finished my tea when there was still one inch of it remaining. This has never happened before, and has mind-control written all over it. And lo, if there wasn't a tea leaf spilling on the brown kitchen floor before I departed.

More knee torquing torture again, time to go before I get extremely vexed.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Constant Thought Stalking

The perps pulled another excessive sleep time last night; 10.5 hours, only 2.5 hours more than normal, BOH, short form for Before Overt Harassment which began 04-15-2002. From then on, it has been one variant of hell after another, and that includes this very minute while a sudden smell of burnt rubber comes from nowhere and the noisestalking action increases commensurately.

For the fourth night in a row, there has been at least an hour of required head flipping before I am allowed to sleep; last night it had to have been three hours. All the while, at every thought that came to mind, the upstairs floorboard were squeaking or a hammering noise was applied. Then within an hour of awakening, the same racket continued, then dogged me through breakfast, dishes and my shave and dental hygeine routine. Mr Eviction-Fiction, the assigned mythical entity that is the cover story for the perp's projected noise capabilities, is keeping the same hours as I am. Theoretically, he is to be evicted by 10-31-2006, but I don't expect anything different, as the noise was identical to the last location where I had overhead "neighbors" in a wood frame construction building. Even concrete constructed buildings were also "capable" of transmitting significant amounts of "neighbor noise" as I came to learn. It is the current number one noisestalking method, and there is no way the sickos are going to give that up for the sake of appearances in their on/off game of pretend.

As part of the above thought stalking and enforced restlessness the perps also dry out my mouth, so I am constantly rewetting it as another incursion abatement activity. As always, what is the matter with these people that they cannot face they have significantly messed up at least twice: traumatizations and their consequent color "problems" and secondly, the allowance of ingestion of pollutants that over time, cause unpredictable paramagnetic activity in one's body.
(If one is a perp irradiating the victim with magnetic energy which is the case). I just don't get it, then again, I am the last to know about my circumstances.

And also, I am mind-controlled to complain vocally at the louder noise incursions (as if the floor were hit with a hammer), which usually include a minor zapping component to really stir me up. And the perps were ready for that; as I was doing so, a toroidal pulse 2' diameter came at me from the ceiling. I don't always catch all the voicemorphing now, but I wouldn't be surprised if the perps hadn't included this in the harassment mix as well. There must be a better name for "sleep" in these circumstances, as I am not allowed to sleep until at least the first hour of having me toss and turn, aka head flipping. Call it "prone time" perhaps, which I suspect has its own technical challenges for the perps for all their noise tracking of me before and when I am in bed. They have in the past positioned operatives to sleep precisely overhead of me in other locations, though I doubt this is the current arrangement now.

And later in this applied "restlessness", the perps put on a hiccuping sound that effectively encircled me by varying in its source location. I have never heard of anyone hiccupping so loud and being able to move about so readily. This was past midnight no less.

And another minor detail for me, but I am sure that the perps spent months of planning on this one; a new bag of corn flakes was begun, the bread loaf was finished up and a new bag of coffee was begun all this morning. It is simply amazing that the juvenile level mentality perps expend this amount of effort on timing the completion or start of foodstuffs for one meal. And more amazing, is that the normal golden yellow corn flakes were converted to a light brown sometime overnight, as they were not that color when I bought them, and the product consistency is always top notch for the Lifestream brand of breakfast cereals. But, they wouldn't let me buy the brown colored gluten free Mesa Mix instead of the corn flakes two days ago, owing to the ubiquitous "stock shortage". Fucking absurd that any entity would govern anyone like this and still keep this game up of pretending to not being there. For the most part, and possibly by design, it is written on the faces of the shills I deal with, though the more regular ones, which I take to be operatives, are better at faking their facial expressions, possibly by mind control as well.

And opening the bag of coffee wasn't without the juvenility being expressed to greater degree; they took the occasion to have the cut off plastic seal flex and then flick coffee grounds onto many surfaces, and in doing so, cover some very improbable trajectories. The coffee obsession of the perps continues in one form or another; operatives on my ass when I buy it at the store, then later in lieu of them, a stocking cart loaded with brown boxes at the coffee display. It is just plain fucking tiresome and tired.

A dull day all told; a shut-in day where I didn't have the need to go out shopping, after "catching up" to the enforced "forgets" of the week. And being shut-in a 8x10' room is truly depressing.

There have been plenty of noise incursions; the most noticeable is the frat house like exits or entrances flurries where a herd of operatives trickle out or in, every minute or so, for 10 minutes. As always, they slam the front door, and the sound and vibration (which has increased) travels to this room and shakes it. More improbabilities at every turn.

Screeching tire noise has had a recent play; this is not hot-rod country where I live, but they do find me and put on an extended rubber burning noise. Then another one follows on the heels of the first. Essentially, there is always some noise affront going on, save the suddenly-dead moments when it stops altogether, usually after a build up.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Phone Line Install Day

Today I get a phone line installed, from the cable TV company no less. I was under the impression that the phone would also come through the coaxial TV and internet cable, but I was flat wrong on that one, per email correspondence. The sabotage and general ineptitude over the cell phone "problems" was enough to "cause me", in a state of mind-controlled reaction, to email Shaw Cable for a phone line. And, I had earlier dismissed their offering as too expensive, and then in the mind-controlled exasperation state over the sabotaged cell service, sought their services. Another competitor on the phone service, Prime, had pissed me off by telling me that my old phone number was availible, and then later it wasn't. It is all very complicated, unneccessarily so, and the entire move/relocation dynamic was such that I had to give up the phone number when it was readily transferred in the previous two moves.

Why my phone service is such an object of sabotage, intentional ineptitude, supplier shopping, a forced number change over the past two months is a mystery to me. I have noted that my ex-wife and daughter's phone services (three phone numbers between them) has also been recently changed owing to some obvious foot dragging on repairs. Too much of a coincidence that, and obviously of some focus of the venal cabal.

Another 11 hour sleep last night; a totally needless extra three hours, the likes of which has never happened before they unloaded on me four years ago, save some severe catch-up exceptions. I surmise this is to have me awaken later for their planned schedule, and serve as a impetus to get me going shopping without making time to internet surf beforehand.

Every time I go out it is a big event for the perps; they had two people sitting in their vehicle outside doing nothing but that, and they were still there on my return, 30 minutes later. This is at least the third such gangstalking this week, and the managed busyness all about me starts from there. The ambulatory gangstalkers are even crossing the street, jaywalk style, to deliberately get in front or behind me. And it was the men's shift again on my return leg; at least 30 of them in various poses and themes; business suits, hikey-bikey types, vagrants and gamut of guises. It is the sheer quantity of them that is so unusual, never mind the above actions to gangstalk me closer by jaywalking to get nearer.

And there are even repeat ambulatory gangstalkers at specific locations and travel directions; the willowy blonde looking purposely detached by looking elsewhere yesterday, was returned to the same location as a brunette today; she northbound, me southbound as with yesterday, same comportment, size, facial features and the look-the-other-way countenance.

The perps are testing more clothing combinations of gangstalkers from further away now; bright yellow anoraks in front of dark red anoraks, and if I attempt to change my position to avoid seeing this obvious alignment, the gangstalkers will collectively counter it by each of them moving latterally to sustain their respective arrangement.

The same thing goes on with vehicles outside the adjacent parking lot; more deep red vehicles are staying in close to my window for longer. It seems that there is some kind of allowable duration after which they got the deep reds, mid-reds and brown vehicles out of there. Even the gas meter head with a 2" wide painted "V" shaped "grafitti" got replaced from the parking lot after two weeks or so.How they know, when I cannot even see the vehicles from where I am typing, I don't know. But there does seem to be some kind of neural correlates that they are monitoring in real time.

The large deep red camper van, debuting some 10 days ago, moved one parking stall closer from its usual position today. Invariably, black, white and silver grey vehicles are posted around it.

And the silver grey metallic color is serving as an entre for pink I noticed. An elderly woman ambulatory gangstalker was in a metallic silver grey colored plastic raincoat (strange enough), and then began pulling her pink umbrella out with the raincoat as a backdrop as she approached me on the crosswalk.

Orange was also a theme, though with minor coincidence level; the stairway natterers 10' from my window had some orange colored clothing, an unexpected letter from Ms. C, a Halloween card, then an orange soap bar "left" in the corner of the shower this morning. There are no coincidences in my life, just feints and venal fuckery I don't yet know the purpose of.

And lo, if the phone installer wasn't wearing a bright orange shirt, and his "trainee" was in a brown jacket. And I was dead wrong about being dead wrong. The Shaw Cable telephone service does come through the coaxial cable like I originally thought; it was the series of emails that suggested otherwise. That is a recurrent theme of the perps; seeding disinformation, often detailed or technical, that is flat wrong, and having me run around with the wrong idea for weeks, months or even decades.

And so I have an additional telephone modem with an on-board battery and the telephone that "surfaced" in the last most move was the one that "failed" at the move before. This phone being metallic silver-grey in color, and naturally its DC adaptor got lost, making the dialling noise rather uncertain. More fuckery over more details that shouldn't concern anyone but me. Anyhow, a new phone service, phone number, and gobs of North America long distance service at a flat rate per month. Not that I phone many people long distance, as that is highly regulated by the perps as well; any call from anywhere is carefully timed and choreographed IMHO.

And this particular phone has a wall bracket under it, which I placed on to stop the phone from flipping around when I am dialling. And so the phone installer noted that, I mentioned the problem, and he then reversed the plastic bracket so the phone sits flat on the table surface and can be used reliably without hopping about. The phone hadn't been used in 15 months.

And it does seem to be a theme of the perps; the orientation of plastics and how they vary over time and the changes to their energetics, or at least, how those energetics interact with me. Other items, e.g. plastic bottles containing shampoo, have been unused for even longer durations, then are "found" at the scripted moment, usually relocations, and are put into use. Even my vehicle has sat unused since I gave it to my daughter four months ago, and will likely stay that way for an entire year. There have been at least 15 plastic bowls or other kitchen objects that appear to have spontaneously melted at my parents' place, perp abettors in full measure.

My tortilla dinner was a 8/10 level harassment situation, and it is always interesting to note the timing of coincident noise as to what I am doing at that moment. Olive oil is a particular obsession of the perps; once when returning from shopping, they jerked the bag containing it from my grasp and smashed it on the ground. Today, they mind-controlled me into putting it away prematurely, and then when I was reaching for it again, the next door "roomer" let out a big hacking sound, even if he doesn't have a cold. (Known by having spoken with him earlier today). Even pouring a portion in the fry pan is often noisestalked in some way. And still the perps attempt to understand my energetics from a distance and won't fess up and seek cooperation to expedite their objectives. There must be one huge vault of gold for them to have an entire city turned over to their cause, never mind how much that has been paid out already.

It is firecracker season with the advent of Halloween; these too have a way of going off at noisestalking coincident events. And fireworks are useful for causing flashes in the night, before I go to sleep as I found out last night.

The arrangement of litter outside my room continues; white plastic bags are now augmented with white book pages. The black plastic bags have also "settled in" for a longer stay and don't dance about in the air as they did. And this morning, the perps went all out by placing a soft blue colored mattress against the opposite wall, 10' away. That was the color of the family vehicle for a good 15 years, 1969 to 1984 or so. My then friend with a silver-grey Alfa Romeo also had his vehicle repainted to be that same color.

As always, anytime I am on the street, I get gangstalked by the "plastic bag people"; and more than once they are taking their groceries to the store that the bag was from. Another "first" since hell descended upon me > 4 years ago.

Another meant-to-mention; my PC fascia had a slot routed in it as noted in this post. And this had taken place in two passes over a year or more, as an example of more long term plastics energetics testing as noted above. When I got the PC rebuilt and delivered earlier this month (10-2006), the perps had filled this 3" x 1/8" vertical slot with a transparent plastic, as if it was a factory built window on the lights they also installed there. Another example of the perps being collectively more crazy than I will ever be, assuming that I am not being irradiated and controlled or otherwise taken down.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Laundry Day and Other Musings

A laundry day today, but not before a new variant of the white crumb assaults became known; these white crumbs cannot be removed easily. They stay stuck somehow as my finger rides over them; on my coffee mug (where I sip), and on the work surfaces so far. Totally idiotic, but it seems they want me to rub objects more. For noting that, I just got a room flash on a cloudy day.

Another made-in-perpland "sleep" last night; they kept me awake for two hours when in bed, performing head flipping and listening to the coughing and hacking from other "residents". There was a few awakenings as well, so that I could hear next door bathroom use, and for extra noise, someone kicking the shared heater vent for some reason. That could either be real bathroom use, or a sound simulation; in the case of the latter, the noise pattern doesn't always add up to real world use.

And they also awakened me to see more of their plasma games; one look out at the dimly light window was momentarily transformed into a blue lit scene in its place. They did this the night before as well.

Earlier I did my laundry at the laundromat, and was the recipient of the usual gangstalking show. It was young women first, then older grey haired women, then white haired men, then young men in a final threesome. At least there was Seattle Magazine to read, and it would likely of been planted there to examine my recall and/or response in realtime to known territory which is still one of the perps' quests. This time they wanted me to use the next row of washing machines, and today, I was allowed to use a dryer that didn't need to be pummeled, as the "knack" to accept quarters, which is the only permissible coinage. And it is no surprise that the last laundromat I used had the same problem with quarters in the dryers. More and more idiotic and obvious feints.

And in the laundromat, a lot more plastic bag flicking by the staff member, and lo, if some of the gangstalk rabble didn't have the same color plastic bags in their packs too, as well as rustle and display theirs within a minute or less of the staff member's antics. Ditto on some dude in white hair and dressed in black who came in to purchase a small sized box of detergent (one load's worth). The box was yellow, just as was the page in the magazine I was reading at that moment. Said dude didn't have any laundry to do, he "just" came to purchase a very small sized box of detergent. It was his turn for the extra-obvious stunt today I suppose.

More male gangstalkers are flicking their arms out as they walk, almost like military which is a fair approximation of their organization. This dude was in a brown sweater and an absurd summer hat, and it was at least his fifth appearance in the past three months, even if he doesn't live nearby. He seemed to have the same general appearance and look of another gangstalker I saw twice two days ago, appearing at the same location on both my outbound and inbound leg of my grocery store visitation. The only difference was today's dude had glasses on, not to mention covering his head as much as possible. It isn't too hard to pick out their themes, and if they get to be too prevalent, that gangstalker/guise gets a rest.

I got the the "royal gangstalk welcome" on my return from the laundromat; there were two "residents" that happened to be leaving this rooming house, as I approached; Mr. Orange Vest in his fourth hallway/doorway appearance in two weeks (the only time I see him), and the other guy with the profusion of tatoos who I am at least friendly with, held the door open for me. The same old same schtick; getting close to me wherever they can. All the while, the hallway is filled with plasma so one's vision is impaired, and I look like I am radioactive with these irradiations that I am being hammered with, though in the main, I don't feel them.

I am still rationed on chocolate, almost five days without any, which is a long time for this vice. And having been the past recipient of the mind-control methods that "cause me" to find chocolate abhorent (unbelievalbly almost), the perps have kept me in a "needing it" mindset. All that Halloween chocolate at my drug store visitation today, and "I" didn't buy any. Just to think there are likely hundreds of these concurrent applied behavioral mind-control themes that are being planted on me, and I am only aware of a few.

Post-dinner, I am getting overhead clunks on almost every web page I click on and bring up. That, and nonmind-controlled thoughts get noisestalked too. The front door slamming of 20' away continues, and as part of the stunt, they are shaking this PC, my hand on the mouse, and the windows in my room. Causing my feet to buzz for hours is another long known tactic of the same kind. There does seem to be more frantic arrivals to the bathroom next door, possibly teleportations or just the noise only.

Perhaps the perps are on the cusp of another big discovery, like 100% mind-control instead of 99.99% as it seems to be. And for observing that, I get the wet plaster smell jammed into my nose, one of the signature smells of a residence that is being irradiated and plasma polluted by these venal sickos.

I noted recently that my old high school has a movie crew filming on location. Not that I have had any dealing with it since I cleared out in 1972, not knowing the rest of the class was in on this vile scam. But I noted that the movie crew has setup their lights and equipment immediately outside my old science classroom. They have a 4' diameter lighting fixture on the roof of an adjacent building extension to shine the light through the second story windows.. And it has been noted that movie location contracts are a form of payback for larger cooperating institutions, e.g. the hospital where the assholes illegally incarcerated me for 5 months. I don't have any specific knowledge that Mount Douglas Secondary School (a senior high school) has any cuurent significant role in harassment cooperation, but with the movie shoot going on and that absurdly large light, I am beginning to wonder. Anyhow, it is likely that it is not a coincidence, but I have no idea as to how it may be related to this assault and persecution campaign.

And maybe this is a setup; I was reading Thomas Townsend Brown's notebook online, and lo, if he didn't postulate that gravitaic conditions may change according to the irradiative source (lighting or other radiative frequencies). Gravito-luminescence, to throw in a big word, which explains a whole lot; the reason for this constant pit-lamping and headlit vehicle processions and all the excuses the perps use to cast or change lighting conditions on or around me.

Enough for a post, if permitted.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Male Banter Noise Continues

For the past three hours the male jocularity, banter and generalized voice-over noise has continued outside my door, in the hallway. A painting job has erupted, a good enough cover story, and there have been plenty of those in my proximity in the past four years of overt harassment. And plenty of "painters", usually men, who appear to be employed as commercial painters. The thing is, they uniformly have the same paint fleck size and coloration on their garments. Usually one to two inch long vertical flecks ("overpaint") densifying in the center of their garments in white and light brown. Most often they are wearing white, but have now graduated to black for some reason.

The perps gave me another two hours extra sleep, 10 hours total, and with at least one awakening in the night. Never in my life have I overslept so often, and for no organic reason. Each morning, my hair is always lying the exact same way each time I get up; combed forward, vertical at the sides. This too has gone on for most of the overt harassment duration (four years), and naturally no one else adds this into the considerable number of unusal events that "occurs" around me or to me, never mind the cummulative improbability.

The Open Letter to Clinicians got no comment from the doctor of course, and I get to see him again next week, maybe for more patient denigration. I wonder what the agenda is for that session; it could be as simple as "Asian exposure", or it could be another foray into medications I don't need under the guise of "overall brain lubrication", as it was last time. Patently absurd and insulting. Worse yet, I wasn't permitted the opportunity of verbally roasting him on that pathetic metaphor at the next appointment. However, he is the big wheel about which all the rest of the benefits spin; caseworker, who in turn is the prequisite for subsidized housing, and subsidized Rx coverage. Like that Holly Cole song, "just take my hand, it is all been planned", without the romance. But he has left me alone for 6 weeks, and I can be thankful for that extended duration between doctor visits.

The male banter continues, right through lunch, such as it was. The perps have me off of fruit these days, though I do eat guacamole in my tortillas most times. As it turns out, it is a hallway trim painting job in progress, and the color that is being painted is... brown! Plus too, they are overly prone to mention that very word for some reason, and I have no choice but to hear it.

I did note that when I was outside and returning from a grocery store visitation, that the perps put on a tractor-trailer unit with a pup, turning the corner, tight as it was, with a full load of cedar lumber. That spells dark brown, and it was 200' away. No doubt it was connected to this sadistic venality in some way, and it does seem that the perps have been making "progress" toward whatever obsesses them about this color, vis a vis me. More brown vehicles are parked and passing by me when outside, and within the first minute without the usual >20 minute lead-in time. And bizarre U-turn behaviors too; minivans backing out without looking onto a busy street from a driveway so to complete their encirclement of me as I walked on the sidewalk.

The above tractor-trailer and pup unit making a turn from a residential street onto a busy two lane bidirectional artery was quite the feat, never mind that it was leaving the retail lumber yard with a full load. But it does serve to underscore the perp's preoccupation with placing objects of considerable mass about me, when they have the need. Most often these are loaded dump trucks with a pup, garbage trucks of varied livery/colors, excavators, farm tractors (downtown even) and other heavy duty equipment. On one occasion, when waiting for my brother on a slow section of a downtown street, outside the storage lockers, an ambulatory operative "arrived" towing a palette jack (plenty of steel mass), with a 4' tall box containing a fire-proof safe (considerably more mass). He was towing it on the sidewalk right past me, and he travelled some 80' before disappearing out of view. It does serve to illustrate that they need to get mass positioned around me as well as the designated colors and lighting games (headlights in the face) if they have a semblance of cover story.

Another stunt is placing a higher density vehicle (made of thick steel plate) types in the bus stop zones. The perps placed a city garbage truck in the bus stop I was to disembark; as the bus approached the stop, the garbage truck moved on. I had never seen a municipality garbage truck working on a Sunday before, but there it was, gangstalking the location at which I alighted from the bus. As mentioned before, the cover story requirement is getting less attention than before.

The banter dropped off for the past hour, presumably the painting job was completed, and that included my door trim only 2' away on the other side of my door as I type this. And then the house went totally silent while I backed up these blogs on my own PC, likely in the prescribed mind-controlled way. That is, I copy the contents to a Wordpad file, then make another copying/pasting pass to supply the title as the filename, and then adding a date prefix to enable a date sort in the wretched Windows Explorer. All that copying, pasting, and action between two windows is the stuff for which the perps dream about. Don't ask me why, don't ask why they all go quiet over this, but clearly it is the highlight of the day. Other "all quiet" events include eating chocolate with the same prequisite of noise, building up, or diminishing.

The making of dinner, tortillas from scratch is the usual non-stop hell; they have taken to flicking onions around, having them stick to my fingers and then when I try and remove it, the onion piece magically flies to another finger. No onions ever behaved like that before. As "usual", some cut onions just "appear", having "missed" cooking, presumably to serve as a reference to the cooked onions. The perps like their food flicking to appear on adjacent surfaces, under the fry pan, the wall, the floor, on the stone trivet so the fry pan sits on it, on and on, relentlessly sick games of food flicking. And then they slid the plate on which the onions were placed post-cooking; that is correct, the plate just "chose" to move unbidden by any conventional forces or causal agents. All the while at each round of cursing at the assholes, my voice changes in tone and pitch, aka voice-morphing. The perps like to start me out with the gravelly version first. Just another slew of outrage in the land of the venal sickos; this entire fucking city that I have attempted to put behind me until they ran me out of a job and began this clinical nonsense, courtesy of paid-for physicians. Some were keen enough to participate in gangstalking me in public as well. Scratch a democracy to expose a tyranny, this one being technologically driven.

As mentioned before, the plasma and emanations can be seen almost anywhere; even tall buildings a block away will have some kind of greyish-black emanations and energy waves.

This is the third time that my version of blogspot has gone down today, and each time I am allowed to save my blog to a Wordpad file, a continuation of the backup game noted above. Time to call it a posting and hope that this gets saved.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Noise Barrages

For the past 40 minutes there has been a sustained frat house like entrances and exiting noise with one incredibly loud slamming of the front door, right through my hearing protection that I often wear. I swear there are flurries of egress activity in this seeming rooming house that are more applicable to downtown retail business on a sale day. And if the direction of the noise source has to be modified, why two goofs show up in the parking lot and start scraping the ashphalt for some curious reason. And funny how it erupts when I began my activity on this PC, as the perps had me wake up at bout 0950h, an 11 hour sleep which was unheard of before they went overt-harassment mode four years ago.

And the amount of masers and plasma activity has increased today as well; slowly they are becoming less bashful about it, and putting longer exposure times displays in central vision instead of fleeting peripherial vision games. And someone flicked some brown liquid on my north wall last night, ready for me to find out when doing the dishes. It was dry, but this is not the first wall spattering event that erupts in the night somehow.

An organization as beserk as what I am dealing with must see a big pot of gold in staying covert to outside purview; I don't understand what their problem is when it is plain to me, and plain to any regular reader, this cannot be any kind of clinical cause. I don't understand who they think they are fooling. And note, I am the only person, save the odd TI's comments, that keeps tally as to what is going on.

I complained to my mother about the four significant harassment actions on my cell phone service in the past month and half, and I was sufficiently "annoyed" (caveat, could be a planted reaction) to get the more expensive landline service just to have a single reliable phone. Then she goes conversationally dead, and says no more. No investigative curiousity on her part as to this being at least the >30th similar themed complaints that I have mentioned to her in the past four years. This is a continuation of elicitations instead of conversations; as soon as "I" say the preprogrammed words the perps have planted, the other party suddenly clams up. And too, they aren't looking at me at that moment either.

A new noise flurry association started up earlier when I was about to shave; the very instant I looked at my reflection in the shaving mirror for the first time this morning, there was simutaneous noise creaking from the floor (I hadn't moved to create it), a slamming noise of the front door, and a third noise that I couldn't distinguish. How could that possibly construed as coincidence, the usual plea of the naysaying sickos, abetting family included?

The perps woke me in the night to hear some of the "residents" comings and goings in the hallway, as well as Mr. Eviction-Fiction's overhead floorboard creaking. Funny how it always happens that way; "he" is walking the floor the very moment I have been awakened, 90% of the time. Never mind that this noise goes on all day as well.

I was to make my usual tortillas for lunch, and I opened the new package of six, and lo, if they all weren't sliced in two, by some magical means, very similar to the last package, bought some days apart. These are sprouted wheat tortillas, my usual choise as the tortilla itself has some flavor to it. The tortilla battles have been going on for over two years, even if it is the mind-controlled choice of the perps. Various methods of trashing them in the package have arisen; they stick together and tear holes in adjacent tortillas when pulling them apart, the edges "fray" and self eject the loose pieces, and now, they come pre-trashed by having them all sliced up. As it was the only package, I was stuck for a substitute and had the chicken with the guacamole on a plate. That made for a quick lunch as there was no cooking time, and less ingredients.

That makes a quick turnaround and back onto my PC, blogging and reading about alternate energies; the equivalent of the Omniplasma Continuum, or ether by another name. I can't think of anything more fundamental that has so much controversy as well as myriad alternate theories. And there are plenty of phenomenon that current physics just cannot account for. This often boils down to new motor designs and the string of bad luck that usually befalls the inventors. Some even end up murdered, such as Eugene Mallove.

Anyhow, a gabfest of male jocularity has erupted in the hallway for the past 20 minutes; I can't recall so much forced laughter as is currently playing out, but it follows the trend of being loud at first and then trailing off. The bullshit cackling and joviality is something the perps must plant via mind-control of their operatives. And it follows me all over the city.

The gabfest and the forced male jocularity lasted until two minutes before I was to leave the building to go to my counselor's session. That made nearly two hours of it, and two too many.

The perps duly frazzled me and had me anxious for no good reason. And I had a swarm of some 10 "patients" at the door, hanging about before I entered. And there are many more gangstalkers putting on, or taking off, garments in my proximity; nothing too revealing as it is fall. Some stalkers are in coats, some in T-shirts, and there are many taking off or putting on a garment, usually outside of their vehicle with the doors open.

I got my usual bus stop troller/gangstalker; while I was waiting for the "Walk" signal one block short of the bus stop, some older white-haired dude made a move to come behind me, then he followed me to the bus stop and another 15' to the mail boxes, then re-crossed the street jaywalking style (usually not done here) and puts on an extra-obvious "just interested " troll on the other side (outside a one non-retail business office building), ambling back to the location where he first slunk behind me. This trolling/gangstalking route was nearly identical to the last time I was at the same bus stop, where someone else was on the same beat.

I got my red wearing wierdo on the bus, inbound. A floppy top hat in a bright red plush fabric was on the head of a gangstalker opposite me in the back of the bus. This isn't the first time this has erupted of late, but it is still too early for Halloween and he had no other costume to match his bizarre choice in hats. And the perps do have a hat fetish, or more accurately, a head covering obsession. Even pointless do-rags on Mr. Passport Tosser, who then made a second gangstalk outside the laundry while I was on the street, this time without his do-rag. The other variation on head covering is none whatsoever; on males at least, bald without any hair whatsoever.

And it turns out I have to do some kind of social service if I am to get any housing subsidy; this will be interesting as it will play into the perps' hands to have many individuals planted around me, and who knows exactly why. Though I do see more stacking of on person in front of another, with varying color coordination.

I had a brown cardboard box beside me for the entire counselor session, and another stack was 6' away. The "brown boxstalking" continues at the grocery store; stocking carts are planted exactly at the locations I want to go for my groceries. The perps are still choking me out of buying any chocolate; the two types of the one brand I prefer, Villar's, has a very erratic pattern of being stocked; plenty one day, none the next, and there is a forced variation in pure milk chocolate or milk chocolate with hazelnuts. And the brown boxstalking continueds most of the day outside my room on the street; a used clothing charity has a "large operation" with a 5 tonne delivery truck parked 40' away in constant load and unloading action of brown boxes, and black garbage bags.

Enough banality for a post.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Eye, Vision & Personal Assaults

I have had a grit in the eye sensation all morning, some two hours worth, and there isn't any to be seen or removed, and my eye is not reddened. Another of the mysterious changes of physical events that keep erupting around me. The perps increase the sensation as I am reading and use it to curtail the duration of reading any one source.

The perps are upping the ante, while still playing pretend; I got three starings on the way back from the grocery store today; the last one was a mind-fuck stunt with a face to face provocation where the operative grabbed my arm momentarily. Then he proceeded to keep ranting at me as I walked away. The grab was for the same reason as Pres. George Bush's grabbing of Chancellor Merkel, to get a better energy reading on the subject. This time it was 40' from the house, and the perps have always been gangstalking me before and after I enter or leave. Fifty two years of being monitored, surveilled and harassed, and they are still at it, playing games like this. Fucking pathetic.

More tiresome feints and gangstalking at Feral Family Dinner last night; it was the first time in three years that my brother came to enjoin the gangstalk/fuck the victim (me) on Sunday nights. He picked me up at my place, took a circuitious route with many parked deep red colored vehicles at the corners (differing orientations), and had an interim stop and natter with his furniture trading pal.

The perps/Feral Family routinely have me cut up various food items, and ensure the activity is hampered by dull knives. At my place, I am constantly noisestalked each time as I cut the tortilla in four. I read something that there was quantum level object association energies, and these would be reconfigured if an object is cut into sections. Last night, it was the squash, and then later the roast which I was requested to slice. In the case of the latter, the three of them collectively cleared out of the kitchen to leave me be for some reason. It is likely that the squash was the "warm up" object, as I have cut the roast many times before.

More "missing time" games in the order of 2 to10 seconds; pedestrians erupt from nowhere, or cross the street without me having tracked their course. It is very disconcerting to not be able to account for how I spend my time, and these games are upping the freak show ante.

My father continues with the dementia act; but always engages in some directed activity that refutes the diagnosis. Last night he was playing (touching and stroking) his olive drab colored coat about five minutes before I put on my similarly colored coat. Then when it was time for me to go, and with my coat on, he touches mine in a mock act of feigning confusion that my coat was his. That doesn't seem like dementia to me if he is aiding the sick-minded perps in a premeditated fashion. And in the past, he has put on my coat instead of his, even when they are kept in widely separate locations. Another cover story of dementia while operating from the perp's playbook. I suspect the perps were on him into the 1930's, and I cannot think of anyone who got fucked over more, and all the time he thought he was fully abetting the sickos.

Another one of his "dementia" acts was to wipe the windows that were behind the curtains for no sane reason. As the windows are behind me when I sit at the table, I am positive that it was another perp abetting stunt. And I do encounter much more window cleaners on the job wherever I go than I ever did before, pre-overt harassment.

When my brother took me back to my place last night, there were four "false starts" over setting off. This was where he "forgot" something, and had to return to the house before driving away. I was sitting in his vehicle the entire time, having the expectation he was as ready to go as I was. He never did explain why one of the "forgotten" items was a cookie sheet from the house, as he is not the type to prepare much food.

The Victoria Volvo dealership has moved from its location on being adjacent to my walking route. The new location is close to a mile away, at a very new building location. They must of moved yesterday, as I had walked by there on Saturday, and the lot had a full compliment of vehicles. As I walked by the all empty corner lot today, a Medi-chair gangstalker was travelling through in the opposite direction, and was likely serving as an energetic benchmark to assay my energetics with all the Volvos having been transferred to the new dealership location. (My vehicle of some 15 years was a 1982 Volvo 245, and I gave it up in 06-2006 because of the continuing financial screwover that is part and parcel of this ongoing harassment criminality. The perps have an obsessional quest to figure out the energetics of vehicles as they pass over road surfaces, as there seems to be some kind of residual energy that they cannot figure out. For example, the perps have had their operatives walk through my just vacated parking stall.)

2200h The eye grit torture lasted into the afternoon until about 1700h. The eye wasn't red, but the opposite one was. Just another reality distortion in the perp's sadistic netherworld.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Clunking Overhead & Likes and Dislikes

The noise and vibration of something clunking overhead has followed me to three of the last four residence locations, the only exception being where I had a top floor apartment for seven months. Even at the latter location, the perps put on at least a dozen "repairmen" scenarios where they had an unerring knack of pounding the roof exactly overhead of where I was in the apartment at that moment. Another variant was that they had someone stomping on the roof, with the sound and vibration diminishing as the "person" stomped away (decaying noise, a familiar noise assault charcteristic). Never mind the fact that no one in their right mind would tread so heavily AND exactly overhead; the entity the perps think they are fooling doesn't pay attention very much.

And moving to a concrete construction building didn't change the noise scenario very much; the overhead barrage started up again, and they introduced new noises, one being the improbable floor/ceiling squeaking as well as the intermittent pounding overhead, usually with a body zap mixed in to piss me off all the more. And so it is here, with Mr. Eviction Fiction and the noise assault from above, even timed in the dead of the night when I "happen" to be awake.

Another nightime event the perps like me to see, at least four times per week, is their unusual light show, mentioned before in these blogs. It is the "grainy look"; as if I was looking at a low light condition photograph shot with a high ASA rated film, >6400, say. I read somewhere recently that is what light would look like if it were slowed down, if it could be. Anyhow, it is one of the more benign events and is all over inside of 20 seconds or so. They want me to have a look at their stunts it seems. And sometimes they will wake me up again shortly with normal lighting conditions, as if some kind of comparison test is being conducted. More of who cares, just get off my computer and get out of my life sentiments, as always.

1500h A day of putzing on the web so far, even if I will be going to the parents later. I am wearing a yellow-gold colored shirt today, what I suspect is the piece de resistance, one of their more difficult colors to remotely assay and energetically model . This observation is based on how little they plant this color, or anything like it, around me, usually in the form of parked vehicles. Though I noted they parked such a similar ugly colored Toyota in a metallic finish outside this location yesterday.

And it seems to be that there is some kind of fundamental energetic distinction between my "visceral reaction", (likely a deep neural response) to a color if seen, versus one that is proximate and not seen. Hence all their games of peekaboo and hiding moving oncoming vehicles from view (when in a file) and then it suddenly being revealed as it comes closer. Only a few minutes ago when I got up to make tea, I noticed an ugly brown colored Ford pickup in the adjacent parking lot, with more ugly violet colored plastic garbage in the box. Within a minute, someone thug-like, came to drive it away.

And this is not uncommon; if there is someone with ugly wirey hair near me at a concert, they get the hook within five minutes. All my predilections, likes and dislikes are the territory of the perps in their endless game of jerking me around. As mentioned before, they like to gain some leverage from things I like, and then plant things and people (by look), that I don't care to look at. The past teleportation of an ugly flab faced cuss among three blonde women in a staff area after a acclimatization duration is an example. Interestingly, the ugly flab faced cuss insertion games stopped after that.

And the perps are also doing this by degree; excessive obesity is not what I care to look at. So, what do the harassment assholes do? They plant lesser obese people around me, and if there is still a visceral repugnance, they will plant even lesser obese people. They are experimenting with all sizes of flab, and also, by gender, as well as by profile; side versus front etc.

This makes for some very unlikely scenarios; the >250lb overweight "cyclist" yesterday, in black colored fleece (the new MIB style in hikey-bikey country here), who then "happens" to ride his bike on the crosswalk, then the sidewalk, coming from behind, and then leading ahead of me until I take a differing route. This in one of the most bicycle lane oriented cities in North America, which may also be an accessory to the harassment operations, as there has been a considerable amount of vehicle lane moving and shifting in the past three years.

Call it "obesity placement", all to get a psychic rise out of me, and possibly to the point of "repugnance fatigue". That is, they keep resupplying more obese people, usually of one gender at a time, in the hope that I will somehow become "viscerally fatigued" at the profusion. So far, they have tried both a streaming supply, say every 2 to 5 minutes, and batch mode, 3 at once two days ago when at the laundromat.

The perps latest planted item obsession, it seems, is planting "granny panties"; large sized women's underwear. My mother's happens to be sitting out and visible of late when I have stayed there overnight, and again at the laundromat, where there were some drying on nearby racks. The more I study the current traits as to what the perps are up to, the more I understand myself, in an oblique way. As mentioned before, I have no idea why I like or dislike something, and whatever my choices are is of consuming interest to another party who plants likes and dislikes in my proximity, or for me to see, in a carefully ordered sequences and combinations. And they have been at this for all my life, and likely created the traumatizations and other off-putting scenarios in the first place. Now it is an apparent problem for the perps, given their rabid games in setting these stunts up, time after time. It is NOT MY PROBLEM; I am happy with my own predilections no matter how I came by them, go and fuck someone who really needs the "help".

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Coordinated Coughing

There is more emphasis on the coordinated coughing noise again; it is simply amazing how many times these "afflictions" occur with my in-building neighbors. And it can go on for 20 minutes or more, often at a transition from internet surfing and then to bed and asleep (vertical to horizontal position).

There must be some kind of deep brain registry for this noise, as it is being used more frequently of late. And in combination, the perps have the sunlight, indirect lighting presently, cycling like a stroboscope, under blue cloudless conditions as I see it from my west facing window.

The usual adversity this morning, all to keep me vocalizing (complaining, bitching in exasperated terms) over their latest assaults with brown crumbs, white crumbs (on brown color surfaces), flying coffee grounds that lateraled 2' horizontally from sink to dishes mat, and the peanut butter game where it cannot be swept off the knife by dragging it over a clean surface of bread, and so it goes.

And note, my voice is different almost at every provocation/vocalization event; "voice-morphing" is the term the perps must of supplied me. Some 40 to 60 times a day is not uncommon, usually within less than a minute, another provocation, another voice variant. Which strongly suggests that all "my" responses to provocations are planned.

The masers also become extra active during these sessions; the all day exercise of keeping me exasperated never ends, just more technical baggage gets added on. Put that in your clinical hat and find a reason that this harassment is of organic condition.

I used the new Schick razor today, and like every new razor now, it pulls as if dull, and then "sharpens up" with easier pull strokes in the following days of use. This one has three blades in it and it behaved exactly the same as any new two blade Gillette razor. Go figure. The Schick razor doesn't click in use, but instead, has been assigned a chattering noise which I am sure will later increase, lest I ditch it now.

Another piece of shaving sabotage is for the perps to create skin pore bleeding; not cuts, as they are very hard to do with a safety razor in normal use, but a few pores "magically" start bleeding about a minute after the razor has passed over. I call these "blood samples" as that is what it seems to me; and attempt to externally assay blood by causing bleeding. Sometimes I wonder what the real purpose of wars is, as this genteel blood letting is likely not enough for a full body remote energy assay.

Onto a gangstalk shopping trip, where the buildup of noise has been even more marked than yesterday.

Now post outside shopping trip and lunch and tea with chocolate. Another noise flurry has arisen, and may have temporarily dropped off for prime stalking conditions. This often happens with eating chocolate; a noise buildup beforehand and then the whole place goes quiet while I eat it (100g). And when on the last row, they start up some noise again.

The perps put on a public provocation today; the regular bullshit stunt of placing a vehicle in my path on the crosswalk continues; this time the motorist in his silver-grey vehicle (note) didn't appreciate my derisive look as he deliberately blocked MORE of the crosswalk as I was coming toward him, and started a slanging match, doing a little get out of his car routine. All in a day's harassment.

But think, this fits the entire vehiclular gangstalking activity to a "T"; the most used vehicle color (silver-grey), the open door act (at least three per block of vehicular egress), the vocalizations, the driver gets back in, and the fucker was known to me as a member of the wine-makers' club I once belonged to. One decent person turned into a sick fucker. And, no less, he looked as if he hadn't aged a day in the 10 years since I saw him last.

Then, at the same intersection on the return leg, the perps pulled another vocalization stunt by driving a left turning vehicle straight at me as I was walking on the crosswalk adhering to the traffic controls, who then stopped in mid-intersection. I suspect the perps want to have me vocalize all over town, and not just when I enter buildings, Which is roughly comparable as to what they do to me here; create constant complaining by their mind and body action sabotage, such as considerable keystroke errors they are forcing on me as I type this.

And when in the grocery store, they like their operatives to use my vocabulary when proximate to me; as 90% of what I say (vocalizations) is swearing, it isn't very hard to figure it out. And the perps put me in a three way gangstalker swarm, the two Caucasian dudes in brown, and almost in my face, a brown skinned Asian man, doing the "I'm sorry" act, as if he hadn't seen me in the middle of the aisle. And "my" response was of course to swear at him for that bullshit stunt. Never have "I" encountered so many provocations (three stunts) in one shopping trip before.

Another lookalike gangstalker was in place to sweep ahead of me at the deli case, keeping her shopping basket over exactly where I wanted to go. This one dates from University of British Columbia 1970's days, who was selected to be amongst a group of pals who I became friendly with. These seen-before's, once-friends and once-colleagues sightings are also increasing of late.

I also got my blonde woman gangstalker at the pharmacy, my first stop; she dithered and buzzed around me when I was in the Rx line, then a grey haired dude came behind me then took off inside of a minute (a short line, only me and him), then she wandered by again and then stood about, then he came back, and once I got my Rx I got out of there fast enough, as is usually the case. Then after completing grocery shopping and outside the store, per above stunts, the same blonde gangstalker woman is walking toward me, she with bells on her boots for additional sonic signature.

And of some note, it was a warm and cloudless day, and so it would seem that the above mentioned "sunlight" fluctuations when writing the above (1100h portion) were a localized phenomenon, just for "my" benefit.

Last week, I had my lower lid eyelashed thinned out; very regular, one or two at every 1/8" or so. Then the perps allowed the eylashes to grow in after a few days. It is my understanding that there are some very small and beneficial mites in our eyes or eyelashes, so this could of been a stunt to isolate their energetics.

The building noise continues; when in doubt, run a vacuum cleaner, must be the harassment mantra. Never mind that it is happening every day, a curious change of maintenance habit. And even more mysteriously, the floor somehow shook with the vacuum cleaner overhead. And all the more so when I have my earmuffs on; the perps like to punch through them for me to hear, and for them to detect the neural energtics of the sonic or vibrational peturbations (IMHO).

I have heard of this, and cannot recall when it was last performed, but the perps put on a copy-catting act. I was reading the newspaper, my permitted once per week issue, and there was todays' outside stairway gangstalker doing the same thing. He also "happened" to be in place to gangstalk me earlier when I got up this morning and changed into clothes (horizontal to vertical position).

Another tip-off of being harassed is the smell of wet plaster in one's residence. This has followed me to three residences in succession.

Enough for a post.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

The Omniplasma Continuum

I cribbed something I thought relevant from the Thomas Townsend Brown Forum:

On April 7, 1984, TT Brown wrote an entry entitled "The Omniplasma Continuum:"
The use of the word "plasma" may be a bit misleading in that it is not the plasma of conventional physics. It is not "hot" in the accepted sense of matter in the 4th state. I use it to imply interacting containment in a kind of "sea". The word continuum implies the infinitely vast extent of that containment.

But the name is appropriate in my understanding of what may be going on. It is synonymous with the "C" field and, perhaps also, the reconstituted "aether"

OPC, as we shall call it in the future, is then conceived as consisting of particles of energy (Perhaps call them minor quanta, gravitons,gravitinos, neutrinos or what have you!) in rapid random motion or agitation. It is essentially present throughout all of space and matter. It exists within molecules, groups of molecules and the regions around and between possibly even to the consistuents of matter. As such, we may well consider OPC to be the re-constituted "Aether."
This, albeit part conjecture, and part observation might well describe the scenario that is imposed upon me; I see plasmic events all day long of many varieties, and it is deliberately controlled for some kind of interaction energetics assay. (That is, measuring the interaction of the subject (me) to attempt to discern further energetic activity not yet understood or quantified.)

As mentioned before, TT Brown was one of the US top researchers of the last century though his work was largely done in secret, though in the least, it had to do with gravitaics and the nature of time itself. I have made past blog reference to him, and I do find the parallels interesting, especially those of the more detailed kind that comprised of his habits. I won't get into them in this blog, as there isn't enough experiential linkage. The major interaction is that I am being harassed by remote means where all manner of gravity games go on, especially routines designed to piss me off constantly.

And the same would apply to the gangstalkers, the parked vehicle musical stalls game, and any other introduced environmental harassment. The latest is to have the 80' distant building painted brown from dark green.

And when the perps get desperate, they put on small groups of children on gangstalking duty; they "found" some reason to hang around outside my window onto the parking lot, and yell their heads off, and the perps made sure that the sound penetrated my earmuffs (hearing protection). That was for 20 minutes or so, then they suddenly took off. This same stunt was pulled when I lived next to a school yard; the children would huddle under the nearby bushes even outside their school hours, especially if I was to be driving off. Once I (or the mind controlled me) asked them if they got paid for doing this, and one said "yes, $20", and another said, "we don't get anything for doing this".

It is one of the sickest aspects of this entire gangstalking and criminal harassment operation; involving their children in the harassment of another human being. What kind of message is that for them? It is OK to harass the living shit out of someone's life, if selected by the sickos? Something like that, depravity as a multigenerational trait.

1600h I did my laundry today, and at the risk of sounding repetitive, this is a high perp interest event. Once at a laundromat, they put on five gangstalkers, all lined up like birds on a wire, outside of my dryer and standing over me while I was removing my dried clothes. When at the last location, the apartment block where there was only two washers and dryers in each laundry room, I still had a regular gangstalker arrival event each time my clothes were transfered in the process of doing laundry.

Today, there were the usual feints and jerkarounds aka "customers" crossing my path outside and then again inside; but today was the move-me-elsewhere theme. That is where they posted a person at my usual sitting location, and then also later monopolize the intended counter where I was about to sort my dry clothes. In the latter case, it was three >200 lb women as a group, who seemingly, came for some kind of business purpose, though it sounded like bumf to me. And lo, if one wasn't in green, and another in burgundy, the top gangstalk colors after black, white and silver grey.

The perps even put on some fresh asphalt for me to cross on my return journey. There was the 1" steel road plate in place when headed to the laundry, and upon my return, it was filled in with asphalt and no paving equipment in sight. And I got the extra gangstalk move at that intersection; a gangstalker leaning his hand onto a nearby pillar, with his arm fully horizontally extended. They also do this on the bus often, usually in front of my face.

A new play/ambulatory gangstalker ploy is to pretend not to notice there are any other pedestrians, especially me, and have the seeming unaware, otherwise engaged, gangstalker run into me. They also do this with street workers, who are running equipment, e.g. leaf blowers are one of their favorites, and have the gangsltalker step into my path, again, putting on the "unawareness act". But it so happens, when I was walking to work in Seattle, there was a regular crew of leaf blowing workers en route, and they were totally cognizant who was where on the adjacent sidewalk so they wouldn't get doused in leaves or knocked over.

The telephone wars are not over yet; the normally capable Shaw Cable has acknowledged my application two days ago, but no forward motion yet. Though this did remind me of the insurance company notice I recieved 09-2006; I negotiated the new terms to apply to my stored items, as they won't insure locations/suites with no self contained bathroom facilities (i.e. rooming houses). There were to send an invoice, but never did. I phoned back and was promised the letter, but never recieved it. Then week of 10-09-2006, I emptied out my storage locker and moved all items to my brother's or my parents'. It seems that the insurance company might have known there was to be a short storage room stay, and wasn't worth it for insurance purposes. (I had no idea that more storage at my brother's would be offered, as he seemed to have no more room.)

I only have to look at how the activities unfold, and see how it all fitted. But it does make me wonder what the purpose is. As part of my insurance negotiation the company indicated that my belongings were no longer covered under the existent insurance policy (because of living in a rooming house). And with my mother asking questions about where the fire extinguisher is, and how might I get out, (jump one half storey to the ground), it does give me some suspicion that the perps could start a fire here. This wouldn't be the first fire they planted on me, though it could be the one that has direct losses. Their last fire was in my apartment block, but not my suite.

And by dint of jerkaround, the fire extinguisher I owned, was "somehow" left behind at my last Seattle residence. Hmm... Stay posted for more online disruption.

The Battle of the Shaving Razor and Handle continues: about 04-2006 the perps caused it to click all the time on the pull stroke. It was a Gillette Mach 2 and had performed noiselessly for at least a decade. It was tossed out, and a backup was used in its place. It then was sabotaged this week and began clicking furiously at each pull stroke. Then I got a new one, and it began clicking right at the outset. So, onto Schick razors and handles and I will find out what the story is there. This could be either a jerkaround to have me not use a Gillette razor anymore, or a sustained effort to put noise at my head while shaving. Or both. And it should be mentioned that the perps are about as rabid over shaving as they are over laundry.

Don't ask why, though it seems there are some energetics properties, aka plasmic continuum energies, that they don't yet know how to fuck with. All my experiences relate to that venal agenda. In fact, I think the entire obsession maybe over the energetics of steel (the metal) and how it imparts energy to skin (i.e. shaving), food (chopped chicken) and anything else that is cut with a blade, knife or scissors.

And there have been plenty of jerkarounds as to what brand of item I will use for anything, so the Gillette to Schick razor jerkaround isn't too surprising. The perps don't like me to have affiliations; they have stolen my classy Ministry of Forests buckle and belt, the Victoria Masters Swim Club jacket, and a few others that don't come to mind. And it may well be that they percieve greater affiliation than I do; I wasn't a Gillette promoter in any sense, but that isn't good enough for the perps; total removal of familiar objects is their goal. The perps juvenile obsession over some minor detail of everyday use, the shaving razor and handle, has all the signature of the Battle Over Nose Hair Clipping, a long storied jerkaround where new scissors magically don't cut anymore, to my extreme annoyance. It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't growing the hairs at above normal rates. More of the steel metal games again. What I still don't get is why to they continue to operate in the shadows and 'fess up and cooperate?

And as part of the drive to annoy me, the manager sprayed the hallways with some kind of aerosol "freshener", and now that it is seeping into my room, I have had to open the window, another object of fascination for the perps, though not as virulent as their other sabotage; e.g. laundry, shaving, shopping, etc.

Sleep Time Regulation, Vortex Power and Other Musings

The perps awoke me at 1000h, which amounts to 11 hours of sleep, a full three hours longer than normal. One way to start the day, pissed off at this intrusion.

Currently there is a sustained noise flurry on; a build-up of gangstalkers tromping through the building, and is also concurently happening outside where this suite/room faces a stairway. All stairway egress has become noisier by twice as much over past few days. And the vacuum cleaning has become more frequent; from none to twice this week, a considerable increase in a building where maintenance isn't a priority. Maybe the 10 -15 white pieces of planted litter outside my door, and only my door, will get sucked up for once.

The perps have significant interest in having vacuum cleaners operate near me; they like to have the extension cord outside my door, laid the full length of the hallway, and have the vacuum cleaner timed for when I will be egressing the building. And too, external "suck jobs", where the hose is 50' or more, and the cleaning device is in a streetside vehicle. The road maintenance suck jobs also have a habit of showing up in all seasons, and even outside my building. Anyhow, all this vortex power, following me wherever I go, spells one thing; have sweepable flooring instead of carpets should I have a choice in the matter. Somehow, I doubt that will ever happen.

The coordinated coughing is still going on, with a new variation; have the operative cough while walking the hallway to provide a decay to the noise, and save the loudest part of it, the throat clearing, to "happen" outside my door while the operative is walking past.

More building shaking is going on, somehow, the front door closure vibration can travel 20' to my room and shake this LCD panel too, even if on furniture sitting on the floor.

Currently "sunshine" games are going on; putative sudden cloud movement and a burst of indirect light comes through the window, extra yellow colored with the cover story that it is reflecting off the nearby buildings. Then, suddenly the light level drops, as if a storm cloud blocked the sun. It can go on like this for hours, and yet this is not a stormy climate here. If I go outside and have a view of the weather patterns, such sudden on/off light conditions rarely happen, as the cover story cannot be setup without patent manipulation being apparent.

Another light condition harassment method is to fire stroboscoping light at me when I am walking under trees in sunlit conditions; the cover story being that it is "caused" by the dappling light through the leaves. But as it so happens, I have worked at length in such conditions in my past foresty work, and have never, ever experienced debilitating stroboscopic assaults. Anyhow, the perps still think they are fooling someone, and maintain this harassment as part of their imposed normality.

The cell phone service fuckover continues; no communication by email as to why Fido cut me off the network, hasn't supplied a new access code for my voicemail, or why they screwed up fixing it the first time. They are another one of those entities engaging in degrading service, and no explanation offered. Same as the stationary company with the initials of OD; I never did hear as to why they refused to send my order, but it seems that they had no intention of doing so.

I applied to Shaw Cable to get new broadband phone service last night, and all I got was a confirmation as to the application. No new phone number supplied of course; the timing couldn't be more obvious. The no phone service stunt seems to be coordinated with today's planned visit to the job fair; no working phone number, quite the handicap for such an event. Fucking sick, whoever arranged that.

As mentioned before, my ex-wife and daughter have both "suffered" bad cell phone service last month, and changed each of theirs to new numbers. All part of the family "infectious events" that have a pattern of spreading, with me getting it worst.

Now the noise flurry has dimished and the pattern seems clear; hallway and stair way tromping noise, then suck jobs and vacuuming, building vibration, coughing and hacking, then the faux male jocularity, and then tapering off with the odd cell phone conversation in the hallway, passing by slowly, as if in deep conversation. And with plenty of overlap between the noise phases.

1700h I went to the job fair and didn't see the business there that "I" was interested in. There were plenty of retail store opportunities, but that just isn't for me. The perps put someone in dark shades and a brown hoodie pulled up to cover his head to trip me before going inside, then he ducks between two grannies when "I" swear at the fucker. This is at least the fourth incident where they invoke vocalizing or body contact before or during, entering a store.

The job fair was one big gangstalk in public event, and with plenty of blonde women on duty at first, then the wandering males without seeming jobs come on afterward.

The perps have me in a total suckdown mood today, especially while at the job fair. This kills any motivation which is what it seems to be all about.

I got my cell phone fixed; somehow "I forgot" the battery popping routine to reset it. If that isn't mind control/selective capability dithering, then I don't know what is. And the Fido idiots left messages on my then dysfunctional voicemail to say that they fixed the problem as it turned out. I suspect the voicemail stunt was all about having a string of Asian accented people leaving messages, as this seemed to be the theme. And the dude that "helped" get the phone and voice mail fixed was a seen-before gangstalker, now in the form of a Fido service rep. It never ends, it only gets sick and sicker.

The ongoing problem with the stationers with the initials OD adroitly moved their contact method to the inaccessible voicemail I noted. Too clever, avoiding problem resolution by switching to leaving messages at a dysfunctional voice mail. All too wierd to be random activity.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Cell Phone Sabotage, Part ?

Fido the cell phone network has upped the harassment ante; instead of taking 10(?) days to reply to my service request, they have cut me off the network! (I have prepaid service and am paid up). The cell phone is charged, but inactive with a 7:00pm time on it, when it is only 4:00pm. When will this fucking outrage over my phone service sabotage ever end? Why does it matter to some sickos in a remote control room somewhere?

And on the broadband front, Primus jerked me around, telling me my old number was availible (by web application), then later it wasn't because it isn't mine anymore (technically true, but it is in the availible pool). So, I got pissed with them, and cancelled my application. What is going on that I am not allowed to have sabotage-free phone service, now 1.5 months of it, and counting?

And of course I threw out all the literature on Shaw's phone offerings, and so it goes. Totally phoneless and Fido hasn't returned my email for >one week. Only one facet of the exasperating continuance of a Targeted Individual's (TI's) life.

And what could it be over? In my case, I look for clues, as in past (mind-controlled) activities or coincidences. And it so happens, that my silver-grey phoneset that mysteriously "failed' to work in accessing voicemail (familiar?) when I moved (05-2005) into my last place, just happened to "surface" in the course of moving this time (09-2006). At the last location the phoneset was replaced with a white plastic phone set, and poof, voicemail worked again. And it maybe that the perps wanted a $200 cell phone to work for only a month or so, and now they want it's electromagnetic field out of here.

The perps do this with metal objects as well; I had a steel cased router, brand new, and it only worked for a month until it "failed", and no matter how I attempted to fix it, it would not work. Then I buy a plastic cased D-Link router, silver-grey and mid-grey color -note, and magic, it worked with no extra cursing on my part. And also of note, the steel cased router "failed" at the occasion of moving into a new residence. Anyone see a pattern here? Like magical electronic equipment breakdowns at a move? Or, in the case of this PC, it "failed" 10 days before a move, and took seven weeks to get fixed. The painful (read sabotage) motherboard and re-build stories are on this site.

The perps have me all cranked up ("thinking") over the job fair tomorrow, and in particular for the call center job. Not that I have any experience in this, but in consideration of today's sabotage and resultant stream of cursing, I don't think I am ready for primetime. That and the keyboard sabotage/fuckery that goes on for every other word I type. Maybe it is a big game of dashed expectations; build it up and then trash it. Though my ex-wife's codified message was that I "would meet some interesting people there". More gangstalkers!

Enough for a post, a bitch of a harassment day, and a shut-in one at that.