Wednesday, June 25, 2008

PC Shutdown Games

If I go "offline" for a week or so, don't be too surprised as my PC front panel switch is getting routinely messed with, and forcing time spent reading, and dealing with visual debris from the plasma and maser show that is constantly in view.

The big issue is how much will it cost? Is it going to be the replacement of the switch for $20, or a whole new case for the PC. I don't know, and really cannot afford another financial hit, even if the perps have been grooming my "covet list" with visions and notions of a quiet PC case, a new video board, and other performance trimmings. Though they did allow this PC to come on for me to print off particular listings, possibly to be used for information to be helpful in ordering a new silent PC case. The perps have me cranked up to get an Antec P182, and I phoned to a local PC repair shop and they want $230, and it can be had online from Vancouver for $130. It wouldn't be the first time they had me purchase PC parts online and delivered to the shop that is going to put it all back together, as their prices are too expensive. On the other hand, it could be a game to keep me in FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt), a significant part of the harassment-sphere.

They took the PC out in 08-2006 by burning something on the motherboard, which dictates a major PC upgrade. Then they took both (dissimilar) hard drives at the same time in 01-2007, which meant both were "upgraded" then. The case is the only old part, and perhaps the perps want either a black or silver-grey colored case to aid in their remotely applied harassment games. They have long promoted quiet PC's, and so they might be demanding this transition now. It is my experience that they can work years ahead of what I am to have, repair, buy, fix or any other such condition of ownership, right down to the example of the disposable razor blades I mentioned at least a week ago. (They had me buy them eight months ago, and now have set up the scenario to now use them).

This is a dull day, apart from the laundry, always a perp exercise in vexation. The last of the old detergent was used up, and so onto new detergent, and for them, this is indeed fascinating. For me, I couldn't care less, as they mess with the laundry anyhow, keeping dirt on the clothes if they want. There is lint and fluff on my clothes when they come out of the washing machine, leaving me hoping that the dryer will take care of it, which is not always the case.

The perps have laid on plenty of sirens today, the fifth cascade is on as I type this, and one was coordinated with the ex phoning about arrangements for tomorrow's graduation ceremony. I can both catch a ride and take my PC in for repair, and whatever the aftermath will be.

I see my mind-keepers have been busy deleting my email, and then also obstructing access to the bookmarked web pages of the same. These were all job listings, and as one looked interesting, why, it had to be deleted because they knew I would be coming back to this very web page. A total setup; baiting me with email, and then deleting it on me.

More planted confusion as to which Antec case might be best; the P180 or the P182, and more FUD over the size of my motherboard. Conveniently, the Foxconn motherboard manual went missing, but I see the phone manual has now come back, after being missing when I needed it. More grist for the assertion that many of these games are about setting me up for an impasse, and then the item "shows up" again. The car stereo they stole from my parent's place was "found" in my boxes last year, which were packed before the stereo went missing. Go figure. I have yet to get a number of stolen items back, lest one gets the impression the assholes are "kids playing pranks". An entire washing machine load of laundry was stolen in late 2002, and none of that has "happened" to show up again. The usual strategy for the perps returning anything is to plant it in an obscure location, or even boxes in storage, as if it were "overlooked".

06-26-2008, 2130h
A messed up day, theough it was my daughter's graduation ceremony earlier, and that was a full-on gangstalking with countless dudes bumping into me, plus a posse of skinheads, three, around me in the seats. One was an East Indian skinhead, and I find brown shiny pates yet more disgusting and loathsome than Caucasian ones.

I just got sabotaged by two paragraphs that were deleted on me. I am at my parent's place on their wretched clunky machine. My PC is in for repair, and may be out for a week. I will find out which tomorrow, 06-27-2008. If the switch cannot be replaced then I will need to get a new case. And this looks like with the adroit timing of a weekend and a July 01 national holiday, that I could be down for a week.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Chicken Run With Lead-Me Gangstalker

It was a setup from the getgo, as I was at the local supermarket yesterday, on a chocolate run, and "forgot" the one item I was out of, chicken. Back again, to get more chocolate of the same brand and type, and chicken. Would I be considered too suspicious if the chocolate was to serve as a brown color reference, all because they cannot get enough brown colors in front of my face, and won't let me purchase brown colored clothing to replace the same items that suffered accelerated wear? Not in this life, where every crumb and dust bunny is managed for timing, color, location, disposition (what I am going to do with it), and its interaction with its substrate (what it is on). A navy blue dust bunny arrived in advance of taking a post-shit shower yesterday, my regular Monday crap that is now running nearly six months in this weekday arrangement.

As the total turnaround time at the supermarket from my apartment is under ten minutes, save the odd checkout obstruction stunt, this is a relatively compact time for the perps to put me through a full-on freakshow, but they did try. Apart from two same navy blue metallic finish vehicles parked outside the apartment when I got out, in file with one vehicle space between them, and some ambulatory gangstalkers whose particular act cannot be recalled, the first "over the top" stunt was a faux drunk lying on the sidewalk, concrete surface note, some 40' from the intersection, top of his head facing me. Some "concerned citizens" were in attendance, and the perps have long drained me of having an empathy for this kind of show.

The outside-to-inside gangatalker dude was in hospital colors, a white shirt and pastel green extra baggy shorts to his knees, and he did the now customary stop-in-his-tracks stunt, looking down at his tatooed leg, likely to draw attention to it for me to observe. He was walking in front of the supermarket, and for once didn't lead ahead of me, but walked by the sentries, the faux canvassers in disgusting yellow fleece vests holding their plastic covered binders with a paper insert on the cover. So... I go in the E. door, the closest one, get my shopping basket after the stack was gangstlked by this dude in a red shirt, and head to the hot cookedchicken display. And lo, if my outside-to-inside gangstalker wasn't there ahead of me, picking up his chicken after exhibiting no particular evaluation as to which kind that he wanted. And as it "so happened" there was no half chickens, what I normally purchase, and no free range chickens, also my usual choice. I had to settle for two heavily herbed breast pieces they dinged me $10 for when whole chickens go for less. Then onto the chocolate to increase the supply, and then onto get tapenade where a female gangstalker in a deep red coat was doing hangaround duty, and as it turned out, where they "happened" to be out of tapenade, both kinds.

Then onto the checkout, where the cheerful once-blonde cashier was on duty. I know her from at least four years ago in my vehicle ownership days where I shopped some two miles away. She was blonde then and as far as I could tell, it was her natural color. Well now, she works at this local supermarket (it seems), though she isn't the only "staff member" to follow me to this local store. Anyhow, she is in a fugly red-brown dyed hair job, and as regular readers will know, red tinged dyed hair is one of the Unfavored attributes the perps like to present to me in varying ways. And it "so happens" that yesterday's cashier was one checkout away, and her hair color is near identical to this cashier's, but is a natural color as far as I can tell. This red-brown color represents the thin edge of the wedge it seems; the perps attempt to detect the neural energetic correlates for why I loathe the sight of red hair. (Which may be a consequence of long ago events for which they applied recall deletion, though the subconscious recall is still extant, and they cannot yet fuck with it). In essence, with the aid of these two cashiers and other orchestrated gangstalkers, they have changed the color tone to near acceptable bronze color (red-brown), and are also comparing the real thing to a dye job emulation. If I don't like red hair, why do I have a billion dollar project hounding my ass covertly (to the unknowing observer, overt harassment to me), playing fucking games with hair color for over six years, never mind what transpired before? And yes, I did have more that a few red-haired seatmates in highschool.

I got my gangstalking posse on my way out the door, and and on the street, and they even put on a crimson red coated male to walk straight at me and then avert his path some 6' from me, the long noted walk-straight-at-me stunt that is getting so tired. All to raise some kind of angst in me as to what the fucker is going to do. I never had so many of this kind of near-threatening public walking behavior until the perps went into overt harassment beginning in 2002.

And when I got to the street corner again, the faux drunk was doing some rolling around on the sidewalk this time, with his "attendants" still standing over him. The perps even added an ambulance noise into the mix, though it never arrived locally. Then more games with dudes in red, then when in the sunlight, and then in the shade, and then having a same red colored vehicle crossing the sidewalk at a driveway some 40' ahead, all to provide more deep red color "action" for the endless orchestration games.

And I see that they have put a deep brown colored ceramic tile in one of the two elevators, but haven't finished the job yet. These part finished projects can go on for weeks, and it seems that they want to expose me to the base of the elevator, the tile, and they even left a 2" square section of the old grotty carpet behind as well, a three surface/color game that will doubtless be completed when the perps are finished their color/substance interaction assay games. (A color energetics interaction with me, or more precisely, with my feet and footwear).

And I notice that the church bells are ringing, a tad early for the usual Tuesday night practice, but I am much used to these routines changing up, except for when they fuck with my own.

I had a unanticipated four hour shutdown of this here PC, and as a consequence, not all of today's outing will be detailed. Not that there was anything too remarkable, but the perps did put the scare on me that I need to fix the front panel switch, as it has been erratic, all for the perp agenda mind you, for over a year. "Take away the excuses" was some pre-emptive advice I heard that covers the TI experience. Translated, that means avoid any situations that could be used as a cover story. I have been "thinking" of getting a quiet case for years, but the perps make sure I am too broke for that. Still, I must do something, perhaps just fixing the switch can be accomplished.

And what did the perps allow me to do while shutout from my PC? Reading, and re-reading Dark Mission by Richard Hoagland, a good book on how good science isn't appreciated by NASA, aka, Never A Straight Answer. I had no idea they reported to a military commander until Hogland pointed this out, believing the bull that it was a civilian agency. But, they would only let me read it for at most, 20 minutes at a time, and would then scramble me to make cognition untenable. Then I would write up my written journal, and then back to reading again. There were some other interesting timings too, dinner, another crap and shower to clean up, dusk onset, a horrific amount of faux traffic noise, earmuff use (dark green plastic), and other like coordination. They also had me sit 90 degrees from the normal reading position after pissing me off with stroboscopic flashes on the page. Another trick to force the end of reading is to put a fuzzy maser ball in my vision and place it exactly where I am to read, and it tracks my vision precisely, even without head movement. And how could that be without realtime neural access to my vision?

It all goes to show that I am not allowed to read a book for very long, and I have at least 1,000 books on my wish list. It won't be attainable anytime soon.

I went to gym this afternoon, and I had my posse of ambulatory gangstalkers around me, there and back, and the usual freaks and wierds at the gym, many of them sitting around doing nothing, unlike any gym I have ever been to. The freak I call Ethnic Gut has returned again, "featuring" himself to look extra obvious that he was doing nothing but posing for me to see. That he was in his disgusting bright yellow shirt did not help, and made it all the easier to spot the fucker in my peripherial vision, something the perps have been working hard on. They want to know what energetics occur the instant that I see someone I know, especially if an operative or their shill.

And the Grotesque Granny was also at the gym again, loitering not far from me like last week, and then hanging around in the auric penumbra of a blonde who mysteriously traded places with another woman who regularly "shows up" as some kind of bait. Attractive and fit; a diversion to be sure, and in being so, some kind of Favored demographic group member, even if not blonde. But "somehow", always when I am not looking, she was swapped out and then a blonde woman, also meeting those exact specifications "ended up" in her place. The the Granny took five minutes to hang an exercise mat, loitering in the blonde's auric penumbra all the time. Then the blonde moved 10' away to do some more stretches, and lo, if the Granny didn't end up behind the blonde again, loitering in her auric penumbra. I am hung up on the word, penumbra, so it must be planted, and is likely one the perps use. They like me to use their vocabulary at the specified time; they kept me from the word gangstalker for the first year of being harassed, as I used the term "cluster fuckers", though it didn't quite convey the same meaning.
a. the partial or imperfect shadow outside the complete shadow of an opaque body, as a planet, where the light from the source of illumination is only partly cut off.
b. the grayish marginal portion of a sunspot.
I had some highly irregular ambulatory gangstalkers, one was some 6' ahead of me, he then makes a 12' turn off the sidewalk to go to this neighborhood pub, and then swings around at the entrance and takes another path to resume walking on the sidewalk. And in doing so, he stares at me looking at this bizarre walking pattern. I passed by him, which was what I was intending to do, as he was irritating to look at with his goofy extra wide arm swing. Then the fucker tails me for another five minutes, and then starts singing and grunting while walking some 20' behind me.

I had at least four negros on gangstalking duty, one staring at me as she was revealed standing behind this ditzing large dude in black clothing. How she got from 10' away, to standing exactly behind this fucker must have been a teleport job, as I expected to see her walking at some point. Again, this fits the pattern of peekaboo games, one the perps routine exercise with vehicular gangstalking. Typically, they hide the red colored vehicles in a train of white and silver-grey vehicles and then have it swing wide at the chosen moment to play peekaboo. Anyhow, she was looking right at me as she revealed herself, which was most odd. This seems to be the latest in the perps games to get negroes in close to me, but for me not to see them. Fucking weird to say the least.

And the routine is that the perps put on certain gangstalkers when I am in the gym, have me later go on the treadmill looking outside through the window glass, and then parade the chosen gangstalkers outside, as if departing the premises. And this is what they did for the two female negro gangstalkers, about five minutes apart when they seemed to be mother daughter related. Another instance of making sure I got it wrong, something that plays out at least a dozen times per day.

And another incident that pissed me off today was the perps causing me to behave in a way that was totally foreign to what I would do. This regular Tuesday/Thursday post-gym class cycling ganstalker dude in white hair, who gangstalked me at my last place with his activity in "working" for the adjacent clothing charity, was 4' away from me on his bicycle, one of the few in the cycling lane. He stares at me for no reason, and then the perps had me yell at this asshole. I have seen this fucker many times in his yellow lensed glasses, and have never, ever been compelled to say anything to him, and out of me comes this pointless yell, (he was past me by then), totally planted, and I couldn't do anything about it. I was fucking pissed off, and still am.

Nearly every outing the perps put on at least one gangstalker with yellow or orange lenses goggles or glasses. They even had me by a particular pair in the 2002 days of attempting to use countermeasures, and they had me pay over $100 for a special pair of laser goggles. I used them a few times, but it became clear that I was extra bait with these on. And still, every outing of significance, over 10 minutes, they put on an orange or yellow lensed operative.

I am listening to Jill Barber again, as I cannot get enough of her. While doing so I am looking at stereo gear, stoking my ever vain lust for expensive equipment. No doubt all this looking at box shaped objects fits into the grande plan, but it suits us both, my mind-keepers as my constant unwanted companions.

Time to call this one done and posting this abbreviated blog.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Another Pallet

Just when I never gave the incidence of seeing placed pallets in my proximity much thought, why another one "shows up", this on my parent's residential street. I was driving back to my place, with my mother in the front passenger seat, and there in a driveway was a pallet arranged in the vertical position, some 3' off the ground and facing the street. As this particular house is in a permanent state of appearing to move, such an odd configuration for a wood shipping pallet was not too unusual. It was probably there long ago, and I was allowed to notice it for the first time, after being "sensitized" yesterday, and then mind-fucked into the ramble in yesterday's blog posting, plus a picture. I have no idea what it is all about, apart from the consistency of "wood stalking" that I routinely get, though the energetics research angle I mentioned seems to offer the best rationale. (That there are intrinsic (etheric) enegertics interactions between all things, and this would pertain to anything that is shipped on a pallet and its cargo. And that the perps are working on attempting to discern the pallet energetics remotely, for all the items that I own or eat that were otherwise palletized).

The big rumbling is going on as I write this, along with garbage truck noise, one of their favorites as it offers so much variety; squeakings of the hydraulic system, brake squealing, air pressure release noise, engine revving, and the rumbling which somehow gets extended to include shaking of this apartment six stories up. Call it propagative noise extensions, which is maybe the name they give it, as they like their own vocabulary to be noisestalked, so they feed it to me.

And more insect creepy crawlie sensations today; the objective seems to be that they want me to look at my own skin for a second or two, likely for color calibration games. Very often a jaw noise of no ostensible cause, a noise not heard through my ears, "happens" at that very instant of looking on my bare arm (usually) for the insect. After the bed bug inundation of two weeks ago, they have me highly attuned to any insect incursions. As recent readers will know, they also deliver one every so often so it will burst into a bloody mess on my fingers and neccessitate a disruptive trip to the bathroom.

The noise parade is on again, usually "happening" at the very instant I am scratching a creepy crawlie or other form of imposed itch needing application of my fingers to relieve it. The itches are also timed to the moments when they force me to look at my arm or hand, in the expectation of seeing an insect, going by the sensation they planted on me.

This is a Monday, the return from staying at the First Feral Family last night, and is usually a day scripted for a shut-in and later sleeplessness. My theory is that my stay at my parent's place in my old room offers the perps advantages in remotely assaying my bioenergetics, and that the remainder of the week is spent in attempting to replicate these elsewhere; at my apartment, yoga, gym, the walk to/from gym, and wherever else they allow me to go in the week.

And there will be an unique event in three days; my daughter's high school graduation is on Thursday, and I am sure the entire show will be rehearsed for harassment purposes. The perps can never resist all those colorful reflective gowns, as well as having the parents around, many of who would of participated in gangstalking stunts going back a decade or more. It will be a big pretend show in the least, and who knows what else. And too, the parents will all look older, normally so, while I will be Dorian Gray's doppelganger, looking at least 10 years younger. It is very strange going to these events, and I am sure the perps govern that response too, and make it "seem" wierder than it actually would be if I was left alone with my own impressions and reactions.

I made a short visit to the local supermarket, all for an imposed "need" to get chocolate, and a few other brown colored food items as my shopping unfolded. Needless to say, it was a full-on freak show, even before I got there. Round trip, it was all over in less than 10 minutes, and by then I had a near full cast of the Unfavored: obesers, skinheads, negros, wheelchairs, dudes in red, big hats, and a few others. They had me lined up for getting chocolate in the aisle; three same color hoodie wearing dudes within 4', two young woman, one being an blonde who backed her ass within 1' of the chocolate, and a "staff" member on duty doing re-stocking, the excuse for placing brown cardboard boxes around me. This time, the prefered Villar's chocolate was in, as the Lindt Creamy taste is made to be less pleasant. As always, I have no idea if what I taste is the way it really is; many flavors have been modified over the past six years, and my impression is that desired foods, such as chocolate, routinely have the taste attenuated. Other beverages like alcoholic liquors taste much smoother, when they burned my throat and tasted foul.

I suspect the wheelchair assholes/gangstalkers were on me as I had spent some 3 hours online beforehand, in a seated position, and these acts replicate that situation, except being mobile. And I suspect the battery in the motorized wheelchairs is also a big aid to the remote energetics assay activities that go on around me all the time.

I even had a moving act in the lobby of this apartment building when I got back; they were taking out a large sage green colored couch while the other elevator was unavailible. As part of the show, they had an obese woman sitting on the apartment lobby couch doing absolutely nothing save showing off her pink top. The perps seem to know which color of reds and pinks I loathe the most, and how it varies as to the wearer. Men in pink clothes strike me as most strange, though it is not the same for women. The perps even put on a pink shirt wearing male outside their place this morning, on the walking beat. As nearly always, these sightings are timed to the fraction of a second; I "happened" to be looking out before accessing my pack on the floor, and there was the pink shirted dude. Enough to ruin my entire day.

The vehicular cavalcade that follows me when driving with my mother into downtown was in place; some 1,000 vehicles or more in color and vehicle type configurations, and my "lead pack", the ones directly in front of me was a mundane silver grey, white, and black grouping. I noticed that one yellow and black Smart Car, a bane in this city, inserted itself ahead of the black pickup truck immediately in front of me for 200' and then turned off. Later, in the journey, a bright yellow cab inserted itself into the lead vehicle train for all of 60' of road before turning off. This being Monday, is the regularly scheduled "forget" to take the yellow colored medication, and I am disappointed if I don't get some yellow color action on these days.

It is a motorcycle noise day today; at least four were on me when making the short shopping trip mentioned above, and were likely used to correlate the noise and the energetics assay work using the same noise that preceded going out.

The thudding overhead has erupted with my headphones on, as has the train whistle noise, especially silly when there are no trains running at this time. The concurrent excitement for the perps might be that I am attempting to load an audio file that seems to have gone into an infinite loop and will not play unlike most audio and video media online. I have been attempting to listen to Gina Romano's interviews as I am due to be broadcast there in a month's time, and wanted to become familiar with her other interviewees, mostly drawn from the TI community.

I am listening to Gina Romano's interview of Bill Gallager (The Edge's Thursday Show 1st May, 2008), about chemtrails and how it fits with the HAARP (atmosphere heating and manipulation) projects, and he touches on the mind-control aspects. A fascinating listen to be sure, as he has researched much of this, and is set to publish his book "Devilvision", though not yet for sale. If you have an hour, and are heavily into the TI experience (usually only TI's, or their permitted spouses and family), it is worth a listen. Funny how I came across the latter site a week ago, and then got this "need" to listen to Gina Romano's interviews, which to my mind, are uniformly good exposures of the gangstalking, harassment and related technologies activities.

I was viewing the many George Carlin video tributes tonight; he was far more perceptive of the grim reality behind the curtain than commonly aknowledged. For the conspiratorial reality picture he painted, here is the best one. It is not necessarily a funny routine, and especially so for the TI's who deal with this stark reality all the time. Maybe this graphic picture of the high cabal got him an early grave. Who knows.

Time to call this one done, and ponder if I am going to get my usual Monday night sleeplessness.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Pallet Day

It should be a quiet Sunday, but no, the church bells went on for a long time, and then the street sweeper made two passes when I was preparing, and later eating/drinking my brown colored foods/beverages, that being peanut butter on toast and coffee, then my chocolate. As always, the regular readers will know that my mind-keepers have an obsession over brown colors, and make it their quest to let me know about it, let alone all the other energetic experimentation issues that are associated with this color. I have never known a city to send out its streetsweepers on a Sunday, which has to be at least double time for the unionized city workers, one of the last holdouts for jingoistic unionism in all its bad connotations. Maybe the perp operatives are driving this maintenance vehicle around. And don't forget that there is no overnight parking to ensure the streetsweeper can clean right to the curb, and yet they don't bother with that now.

And I see the pallet truck has arrived outside; a small pickup truck with the box removed and a wood flat deck in its place to afford packable space to stack pallettes on the back. This vehicle has made other gangstalking visits; outside the last residence location, and at least once on my walk to/from the gym and as part of the regular "wood stalking". And it would seem that the perps let me in on why they are so fascinated with pallets of late; because so many goods are shipped on them, the energetics of the wood pallet interact with those of the goods packed on them.

Even if you don't buy into the energetics explanations that I use, the perps have long been on a pallet exposure campaign. They had pallets stored outside the building I viewed from my last apartment residence, they have a store on my walking beat that keeps them outside, and they ensure I get to see many in any given week in their gangstalking operations. And by dint of coincidence, one of my Google search results earlier today "happened" to bring up plastic pallets, something I did not know existed. The above pallet truck is a once-per-six month's visitation, and that frequency could be cast into the realm of bona fide happenchance, and not the other "happenchance" if you know what I mean. And I note in my labels list, there is "palette jack stalking", something I had forgotten about; the exposure to pallets of goods, or sometimes just the steel jack, being moved around on the sidewalks for some curious reason. And of a minor note, the usually reliable, my last resort when my spelling gets remotely dithered, has been spoofed to mask the spelling of the word pallet.

Onto other matters, like plasma beams flitting about all the time, and the masers being activated to transiently simulate insects in the same form of the bed bugs that invaded two weeks ago. I have had plenty of creepy crawlies this morning, at least 20, and that is plenty enough. No real insects have instantly materialized today thankfully, saving me dealing with the gush of blood that erupts as soon as I touch it. Again, I have no idea as to whose it is; it could be mine, or any of the regular gangstalkers that are on duty. One never know who is in fact gangstalking as the perps have the ability to morph the appearence of their operatives, and I suspect many of my family are involved in the daily gangstalking arrangements. One can sense that certain gangstalkers are "featured", shown off prominently or doing something excessively stupid, and distinguishing themselves for that extra second or two of viewing time, which is later "recalled" and accorded "thought time". (Read, remotely directed attention and remotely planted thought/recall).

This is the post teatime and chocolate consumption period and the noise flurries have duly started at least 10 minutes ago, and are continuing. As always, I was jerked around enough to be provoked into several rants at the assholes pulling the teabag tag out of my hand, shifting the teapot laterally while pouring hot water into the tea pot, and so it goes. Anytime I am doing the dishes is also primetime for harassment games to get me to vocalize.

A sunny day the entire time so far, and I am sure the perps have their reasons for keeping me inside until another hour or so when I get to take the city bus to my parent's place. That will no doubt be another test with the gangstalkers, and a fully loaded bus full of them as well. It is absurd ridership for a Sunday, but that doesn't bother the assholes any it would seem.

A few pictures; this is what my apartment looked out to when last apartment dwelling, before the putative rooming house. There was always at least one pallet there, and I thought it was all about "wood stalking", though it now seems that there should be a new label, "pallet stalking". Taken 05-22-2006.

Taken 09-02-2006 at my in-town brother's place at the end of a cul-de-sac. Three silver-grey vehicles, one in motion, and a red vehicle for some testing purposes, likely using the silver-grey vehicles for reference purposes. This color ratio is not uncommon, even now, almost two years later.

Time to call this done for the day and see what the First Feral Family will be doing for tonight.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Insects Again

The bed bug spraying was almost a week ago, and I have had a few of them invading every day, and about five times that in faked creepy crawlie sensations, remotely invoked of course. Usually after a real insect the perps put on black dots, or other point sources of light phenomenon to emulate an insect for all of a fraction of a second, as if the black dot/spot has significance as well as what it is. I got two bed bugs this morning, one unloaded a flood of blood on my fingers, and the other just went flat, no squeeze-out. As always, these timed disruptions are the means to get me off my chair and clean my hands in the bathroom. Hand washing and drying has been a major behavioral change since the perps began their overt harassment campaign in 2002.

And likewise, forcing me to scratch the faux insect sensations is another one, especially at the base of my neck behind my head. And, they like me to sweep my fingers through my hair, the most effective means to sweep a live insect out. Almost always, an associated noise erupts at that very moment of contact. This is what assholes do when they lack the gumption to personally front for their covert human experimentation, as if 47 years of it wasn't enough. It was already enough then, as I still had to get divorced from the spy-spouse, an ongoing chaotic element in my life at the time that was getting strangely weirder all the time. Now I realize it was part of the script to crank up my angst all the more; the dysfunctional nitwit creating yet more FUD (fear, uncertainty and/or doubt).

Mostly, that episode is over, and even the original hefty spousal support payments ended when my so-called long term leave (two years) benefits ended. The entire divorce proceedings were all about protracting it, and costing senseless amounts of money as it turned out, cleaning me out of my savings. It is odd that the legal bills are not included as liabilities in the divorce proceedings, as they have the effect of being cleaning one out again, after the division of assets.

And I have no idea why the above topic "came to mind", save the perps noisetalking it extensively as I wrote that. It seems the topic of matrimony, and associated downstream issues such as divorce is also a big deal for the perps. They love me to read about such topics, and routinely noisestalk me when I do. (After planting the topics on my regular daily web news browsing). And it "so happened" earlier that one of the two insect events, as mentioned above, "happened" exactly when reading about a celebrity matrimonial situation.

And to be clear, the perps will not allow anyone close to me for any duration, as social ostracization is part of the "total human control" methodology they follow. And too, they make sure that I am not interested in anyone in the first place, so the entire situation is mutually (har, har) beneficial; no social contact in "exchange" for being not interested, as per mind-control imposition.

The vision impairment fuckery has been cranked up today; they are imposing the out of focus games for longer, and won't abate them even if I shake my head, a tactic that once routinely worked. They are also increasing the fake insect apparitions as noted above, and will increase, or decrease the size of these plasmic or maser feints. I am also getting plenty of bands of plasma in light apple green, deep reds and in bright yellows. The onscreen plasma color games have been increased of late, going on all the time as opposed to every few seconds. Invariably they put on some noise when they occur, and have me move my head at the same time, as if to shake it off. This LCD display is also getting flickering, as if the entire screen is being re-displayed after a momentary power loss. In addition, they also reduce the size of the text during these "drop-outs", all in less than a half second, but making sure that I can percieve it all the same. I have no idea what they get out of it, but perturbing my continuity of experience seems to part of it.

Another vision perturbing stunt is to change my visual perception to see double imagery, usually when I am moving my head or in my peripherial vision. I have never had any double vision sightings until of late, so it must be as a result of the same party who can dynamically fuck with what I am seeing and understanding at any given moment.

The perps got me rage-ified while doing the dishes earlier; the nylon spatula slid out horizontally of the dish rack three times from no apparent conventional source, and they had me highly irrate over that. Then brown crumbs came on where I was cleaning up, and the same "reaction". They also put on at least three "motorcycle moments", noisestalking me with the most horrid sound of Harley Davidson like motorcycles while reaching in the fridge, pouring olive oil and another instance I am not allowed to recall.

Before dinner I got a nap attack for 45 minutes of light sleep with plenty of dream invasion, and this has served as the (faux) causal to feel so buzzed out, stoned like. This is where they make everything seem surreal, which they did for all of dinner preparation, dishes and at present. They also put huge vertical pleated folds in my shirt, another casualty "from" the nap, and are insisting on keeping my shirt is this manner, even if it is wrinkle resistant.

I am "in the beam", a plasma light source made to look like a reflection off the opposite residential tower. There have been some pictures of these in past blogs, and as far as I can tell, it is represented as totally unnatural. This is an E. facing apartment that should not get any direct sunlight at this time of day, and yet "somehow" the windows unerring direct a "reflected" sun beam into my apartment each evening. Naturally, other lighting and plasma games are added to the mix to arrange quite an irregular display of lighting. Drawing the curtains usually ends this idiotic game, and it is time to do just that.

The perps screwed me out of joining my TI confreres in a conference call tonight, the norm. Then they put me through a number of futile attempts to listen to some audio files and finally allowed me to listen this recording on Talkshoe's FFCHS (TI activist group). The siren cascade noise started up before I put my headphones on, and now the overhead rumbling noise has begun.

It is interesting to note that one of the three guest TI's on the above mentioned recording of the radio show is permitted to keep a job and be in contact with her family who are entirely supportive. Normally social isolation is applied, as mentioned above. Another guest was permitted to retain various investigators who supported her claims of anomalous activity. I haven't been allowed such freedoms, despite my attempts. I phoned one countersurveillance operation when I lived in Seattle and they blew me off, assuming that I did in fact get through and that I wasn't redirected to an operative jerking me around.

And while listening the above audio file, the perps have me cough on cue; a new speaker, navigating to a new web page, copying a link into Paste, making a link (above) is all it takes to remotely invoke a coincident dry cough.

This video on YouTube has members of the Church Committee speaking about their experiences which included investigations into the FBI and COINTELINFO and the consequent FISA laws which they claim work, per conversations with the intelligence community. This on the eve of the FISA laws being eviserated, with the abettance of the Democratic members of Congress. Funny how that happens.

The Google Analytics access that I set up has gone "missing"; the statistics were to be accessible, and poof, no way to find them. And now, more creepy crawlies, as if an insect is on my back, under my shirt.

I am listening to a long video on the "Electric Universe"; a theory that explains the forces in the cosmos to a much greater degree than what they call the "Standard Model". Let's not forget what the erstwhile researcher of gravitics, Thomas Townsend Brown called empty space, the "omniplasma continuum". So it would seem that the perps can readily access this plasmic universe, and in my case, increase the radiation levels (magnetic energy mainly), to manipulate plasma around me all the time.

And how did something so fundamental come to be "fringe science", where it is an uphill battle to get papers published that don't conform to the status quo? Another work of deep and dark means it would seem. It doesn't take much to wander into the conspiratorial realm, and ponder the unseen force's degree of influence.

Anyhow, it has been a shut-in day and I am getting the imposed yawning and tiredness routine, usually prescribed to force my mouth to open, that highly problematic region for the perps in their ongoing harassment operations, which is in fact, nonconsensual human experimentation. The open mouthing of so many of the gangstalkers is an ongoing testimonial to this facet of their quest; to be able to dynamically model all the human body's bioenergetics, especially for the brain region. Not my problem, and here I am being contained against my will.

Time to call this one done and ponder what possible excitement will be scripted for tommorrow.

Friday, June 20, 2008

The Cable Service

I am waiting impatiently for the cabel service technician to show up at his appointed time, between 1200h and 1400h. The last round had the technician "showing up" a day early, exactly when I was out. Normally they are early, and rarely late, as the service is usually very good. I also have an outing planned later, before 1500h, and I am sure that will be a big deal for the gangstalking community. Two Friday outings ago they had a two gangstalkers on my tail at a breakneck walking speed, which is rare enough, with the second one taking over from the first (on his double back leg), and then even following me into the apartment elevator. And I wasn't allowed to recognize him then, and only later did the perps let me in on what I would of known, he is a classmate of the UBC Forestry faculty, graduating in the same year as I did.

And there are plenty of foresters on the harassment operations, though I do not know if they are operatives or shills du jour unless I seem more than once. Most pretend they didn't notice me. This above mentioned gangstalker also "showed up" in the hallway at my last apartment block residence, "happening by" and pointedly looking away while I was transiting between my apartment and the laundry room. Another of my Forestry classmates "showed up" in the hallway of that same building, and also featured herself in the local LD store. A third Forestry classmate "showed up" on the street in this neighborhood, looked at me, and pretended not to recognize me. A fourth classmate has also "shown up" once, engaging in some strange furtive behaviors when I was illegally incarcerated in the hospital. I mentioned this to the doctor and he dropped the topic immediately.

Funny how it goes, this wall of denial that travels around with me. I am irradiated to a degree that my entire body is pulsing in some kind of vibratory manner, and yet no one says a thing. And I never "think" to mention it, yet another example of mind-control at work.

I was dream invaded again last night; I was in a submarine and messing with some wires and other specific related activities. The perps have long planted submarine stories for me to read about, but I have no idea why. Way back in boyscouts we made a trip to then one submarine the navy had on the West Coast, and later it was mothballed (~1970). The Canadian navy has has some long running problems attempting to get their used submarines from the UK to run dependably, more than 10 years since they purchased them. What an agonizing situation ; reworking four used submarines, after refitting them. Just to think, one can now chose fuel cell driven submarines, reflecting my knowledge of them the perps place in my way.

The phone technician finally came, and besides taking off the the panels of the connection boxes, he didn't really do anything besides test it. It just worked again. This was around 1400h, and I was due to go out afterward. So it would seem that he was there to gangstalk me in my apartment before I headed out. He was in a black shirt, and had his ball cap on backwards, doing the do-rag emulation look when I first met him at my door. He managed to get inside the building OK, though he didn't explain how. (My intercom wasn't working either).

Then onto my outside visitation, and the cast of characters that put on the show called gangstalking. They even had a faux neighbor exit his apartment while I was waiting for the elevator, and he took the stairwell out. And lo, if he wasn't 60' ahead of me when I got out on the street, and he was taking off his black jacket to show off his deep blue shirt. I had at least two more swarms to get through before I got to the perp's latest venture, tearing down a building and putting a condominium tower in its place. Today, they had dug down by some 10' and had extra white mesh fencing up on the outside of the site, which is bounded with dark green mesh fencing. And all the fence feet were painted in day-glo fushia, just today in fact. Regular readers will know that the perps are consistently digging or drilling holes in my proximity, and a condominium tower is just as good as these strange street drillings that have gone on. Once I returned this same route, the perps had six men lined up together at the fence, putting on the act that they "happened" to pass by and were interested in the excavator operation. Four of them had the same kind of white hat, something a plasterer might wear. Freaking bizarre to say the least, these instant male "pals" that erupt in public, never mind the freaky communal headwear. I am certain the perps are attempting to isolate earth/soil energetics interactions with that of my own, hence their assiduous interest in digging building foundations next to nearly everywhere I have lived.

I also got my "bread stalking" act while out; this is often in the form of unattended bread, usually in the plastic bag, being left beside the sidewalk on my route. This time it was hotdog buns "on special", and even the birds left it alone. Funny how that it is.

And so back to a dull-ified day, as the perps are whacking me with a tiredness that borders on sleeping, but not quite enough to convince me to take a nap.

These are the last of my uploaded pictures. This is an arranged string of vehicles parked outside of my apartment building on Quadra St. In the parked file, there are three dark blue colored vehicles and one black colored one second from the end. The perps like to put on VW vans, camperized or not, and it is likely because the engine is in the rear, and that I owned two of the prior model version. Taken 06-18-2008, 1103h.

At the time, I thought it looked most curious, this large rectangular section of plasma, or faux reflections, with a missing square from the center above the brickwork, which is sitting above the tree foliage. Somehow, the photo did not come out the way I saw it at the time, so I leave it to readers to make their own discernment as to this being anomalous or not. The building is a condo, and all the venetian blinds are of a silver plastic reflective type, and there seems to be an unusual uniformity of them being in a position of maximum reflectance. Taken 06-18-2008, 1654h.

Back to reality, after an ongoing serial barrage of loud vehicle noise while checking out jobs online. The perps like me to do this, and most often, they sap me of my recall and motivation to do anything more. That I Bookmark a few also gets the noise action stirred up, especially the overhead rumbling noise. I have no idea what the perps want me to do vocationally next. The current harassment seems to be all about keeping me coming back to an area, or doing the same thing in a new location. There is always a provenance angle behind the harassment games. Now that they have vocationally parked me for six years, it is about time the assholes showed up and took responsibility for this life-rape.

Concurrent with the ongoing noise parade and flurries is the perps invoking a dry cough all to piss me off all the more. It is about time they gave this fucking invasive stunt a rest.

An electronic chirp noise was sounding as I pressed the keys, until I then associated it with ongoing harassment games, and then it stopped.

Onto some more strange oddities, and that being the perps' games in faking me out as to jokes, and related stunts as to what is real or not. Sometimes this will be in the form of a satirical news item, (a spoof), or as the faked imagery I see many times per day; e.g. spots on the walls or counter surfaces that emulate an insect, and of course, that cuts close to the bone, as they put on an real insect invasion two weeks ago. The masers are usually used, greyish or black dots that momentarily appear animated as if it were a real insect at first glance. Anyhow, this preamble is all about getting faked out, or fooled, even momentarily, and how this has also "happened" in other world incidents. The most prominent example is the 9/11 tragedies, and separately, how at least two agencies/responsibility centers thought it was a drill at first. This was true for the NORAD section who were conducting a training exercise that very morning, and now, news to me, a similar situation evolved at the Pentagon, as described here. Many thought it was a drill at the Pentagon. Similarly at the World Trade Center, there had been a ramp up of drills there prior to that fateful day, and I am sure many of the evacuees were thinking it was again another drill. It wasn't in the least.

As the perps like to fake me out and have me get the wrong idea totally, and are able to do this with greater ease and effect owing to significantly more mind-control capabilities, these fake drill situations on 9/11 cannot be considered to be a coincidence. If one reads the Dimensional Structures of Consciousness, and understands it (I cannot, possibly because of direct dithering of my cognition), then it seems that there are certain energetic signatures that denote a real event, versus a pretend event. It would seem that the perps who constantly create this real/fake dichotomy of understanding are attempting to untangle the energetics (consciousness energies) of each. And that is as deep as I will go on this topic; I only to mention the possible linkages to the stunning number of "coincidences" I encounter, on the world stage or in my personal life (read, full time surveilled to the level of thought, orchestrated and scripted).

And continuing the thought meme on drills and military exercises, I find the the city of Denver was subject to unannounced federal government forces on a city wide exercise, as noted here. The jist of the article indicates that this also may have an agenda of conditioning and social engineering, to make the populace aware of such special operations. It could be, and I am often gangstalked by these tall vans, one that people can stand up in. The Mercedes Van and the Dodge Sprinter Van are two that come to mind, and even the police are using them (showing them off to me) for some reason. All this is getting too conspiratorial, so onto something lighter.

I found this to be an interesting news item, "Socially Engineering The Public For Martial Law", the unannounced special federal operations exercise in Denver. The nature of the Rogue Government site is that they take a dim view of such activity, as well as the city's anemic response to such an imposition.

As today is the summer solstice, I am surprised the perps haven't turned today into utter hell like yesterday. I have remarked in past blogs that the perps have a strong interest in sunlit and nightime conditions, and they have been known to go beserk with harassment at these occasions. Perhaps the perps are on sidereal time, that as determined by the stars, and yesterday was a sidereal summer solstice. Just a thought, and it was noisestalked as well.

I just finished completing the Google Analytics pathetic site visitation counter; adding HTML code into the template is not my competency, and more like, the perps want me to deal with it more than once, like all my past computer code authorship. They fucked the hell out of me when I was coding and then deleted my recall of computer coding knowledge. I often wondered why my compiles did not work when I had saved the file edits. Now I know.

And wouldn't you know, I successfully (as far as I know) added the Google Analytics code into this blog's template, and now I cannot find a link to look at the Analytics (site statistics). I often get pages changed on me, and similarly, a manual will "go missing" just when I need it.

Another day is done, doing time for my tormentors, who thankfully, didn't repeat yesterday's ugly harassment abuses.

The day isn't over; a three siren cascade erupted while I was listening to my current high rotation musician, Jill Barber. Could this be more of the sound transference games? Applying both music and sirens together so to be able to correlate neural responses perhaps. Who knows.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Not Allowed to Reach for the Desired Faucet Control

The title refers to the stunt the assholes pulled on me first thing this morning, dithering my knowledge of which faucet control was hot, and which was cold, and then pulling this shit again when I wanted to turn it off. It is just another example of my contained existence with an malevolent overseeing organization, right down to all thoughts. Either that, or else it is a severe neurological condition, not knowing which faucet knob is hot and cold when I have known this for over 50 years, with the odd exception of those that have been connected backwards, another stunt they have arranged at my parent's place. I have never convinced any doctor that I need to see a neurologist, therefore, the default explanation is that it is remotely applied mind-control. But feel free to send me any other explanations as to how 50 years of habit can be erased on an situational basis; that is, as an instignating prompt to enrage me. And rage-ification is the first and foremost perp play, and is invariably timed to be concurrent with handling brown colored substances; coffee and peanut butter as everyday staples in my breakfast diet.

The clunking and fake neighbor water use noises went into overdrive as I typed the above paragraph, and it would seem that the perps are back to noisestalking me over my knowledge of being harassed and noisestalked. A circular game they like to pull; as soon as I know I have been fucked with, some hundreds of times per day, the perps like to arrange noise at the moment of realization.

This is the interim between yoga and gym, and serves as enough time to eat lunch and do some web browsing as well as blogging. The perps are all over me after yoga, as it seems that they gain something from this, (all the spine stretching) and wish to apply it elsewhere. Which is why some of the hasty leaving class members seem vaguely familiar on the way back; they are morphed-over yoga classmates. Or, at least, that is the notion that is planted for me to say/believe. I have been long convinced of the perps' abilities to change their physical form, and they in turn have provided many gangstalkers/operatives who look a little bit different, and then later, even more different than the putative person that is suggested as the one. It all gets very confusing, and I am being messed with as I write this, hence this stilted syntax.

The perps put on a guppy operative on my way to yoga; these are individuals, usually males, that wander around with their mouth hanging open. This one dude was loitering at the corner of two streets, and I was approaching to walk straight pass this act. When about 10' away, he turns toward me with a gaping mouth, which was bad enough, and his masters had arranged a string of spittle to be spanning his upper and lower lip. It was fucking disgusting, and likely intended to be that way, given how automatic my "reactions" have become. Why they put this act on there I don't know, but regular readers and all TI's will know that the perps constantly present their mouth contents in some way; yawning, talking, chewing food, tongue pressed against the cheek, tongue hanging out, or some variation of mouth contents exposure.

The perps even put on a hurlworthy Unfavored freak as soon as I exited the yoga practice room; a loping dude in mid-brown clothing color with long matted hair. That is five Unfavored characteristics, the first being the walking gait; the perps are putting on more loping, bobbing, waddling and otherwise strange gaited gangstalkers, mostly as males. I don't know why they are doing this, save the usual categorization as being an Unfavored characteristic, a strange gait to which I have some adverse subconscious reaction to. Not that I am aware of any reaction, but the perps are looking for neural based responses that aren't even known to me. Just another bizarre facet of being contained in this caged netherworld where nothing can be taken at face value. As the final freak in the freakshow when I came back from yoga, they put on an 250lb thuggy dude with tatoos on his arms for me to see, standing in the elevator lobby when I entered. And given that the elevators didn't arrive promptly, and I took the stairwell instead, it was possibly as some kind of distance dependent test.

Another Unfavored prop/look of late has been to adorn the gangstalkers with do-rags and like perverse hair-wear. One of the women in the yoga class had a 6" wide hairband around her hair, a possible emulation of a do-rag on a male.

I have returned from gym, a 30 minute walk in each direction, and an hour of working out. I had plenty of ambulatory gangstalkers around me, tailing, leading or paralleling me, probably a 100 in all. There was the usual cavalcade of coordinated vehicles, arranged by color and type/body style, some 500 to 1,000 mobile vehicles, and that many again in parked configurations.

There were three blonde female coordinators for the gym class today; a new blonde was added today, Alana by name. Last week's new blonde woman is named Jenn. And it "so happens" that I know an Alana from my yoga class, and a Jenn as a sometime coordinator for the gym class, she of black hair as well as attractive. And who knows who they really are; morphovers or real individuals? Or the same individuals by those very names who are morphed over? It is difficult to believe that both the new coordinators' names are the same as others I know, and what kind of games does this portend in the netherworld I have been cast into?

And as I attended only one gym class this week, the perps have used this opportunity to downgrade my strength and stamina, as if it were so mutable. They only let me run 9 minutes on the treadmill, down from the days of covert harassment when they would let me go 20 minutes at most, and then later sacked me out keeping me at 12 minutes or so before they outed themselves in my apartment in 2002 and have kept up this harassment 24x7. I am not allowed to run on the street for more than 5 minutes before this inordinant "tiredness" sweeps over and makes running a totally pointless experience.

The big color event outside and inside the gym was mid-blue tones. As I turned the corner to the street the OB Rec. Center is on, there was a cluster of three same mid-blue vehicles in the parking area, and some 200' ahead, the perps had arranged a scissor boom some 20' off the road, painted in the same blue color. And when walking the last 200' to the gym, the perps put on plenty of blue plasma flashes in front of me to supplement the same blue colored parked vehicles. At the entrance, they arranged two dudes in conversation, in Spanish no less, with a shopping basket between them, containing a blue plastic tarp. When in the gym, lo, if a negro woman wasn't in the same blue color of clothing and pointlessly loitering around me. Once I was on the treadmill and looking out the front window, why there she was again, leaving the premises. And she might have been the last person to use the thigh equipment before I did. The perps also flashed me with a blue colored light from the elevator buttons, now working again, and I saw plenty of same mid-blue vehicles on the gangstalking circuit when walking to the gym and back.

The gym class members were their usual gangstalking selves, and it was a three freak show for the class. Only Ethnic Gut, the green-brownish oily squat dude with the large tummy was putting himself in my view. When I was on the treadmill, he passed behind me from right to left to then loitered at the water fountain in my left side peripherial view. I turned my head to the right so he was not in my peripherial vision, and that worked until he then doubled back and was in my right side peripherial vision. As soon as I saw the asshole in his hard-to-miss puke yellow shirt in my right side vision, a sudden noise went off, and I moved my head back to looking straight ahead, again keeping him out of view. This is an example of how it goes, and that events such as these are scripted all the time.

I am recovering from a nonstop harassment fuckover while making dinner and then doing the dishes afterward. The perps planted fake touches on my arms and fingers, made every noise louder and longer despite my usual precautions to reduce the excuses, pulled objects from my grasp, and when yelling at them, they fucked with my syntax and jammed my ability to retrieve the intended words. This was going all the time, and I haven't been harassed so doggedly before this depraved outburst from them. And of course, they added background noise while I was swearing at them, this time yelling children at 1800h, when there are none in this neighborhood. Finally it was over, and I could be left alone to some extent while online. I am getting some typo sabotage, and now, more fake insect creepy crawlies.

The perps put on at least eight wheelchair cases around me today, the most egregious was the weird in grey clothes and a mid-blue colored hat, smoking a cigarette, and at first tracking beside me for a block. Then he cranked up the speed and was driving in my usual right side path on the sidewalk, so I moved over some. And the perps made sure that I got plenty of his cigarette smoke, all to directly access sensory areas of the brain IMHO. The perps tell me that the "need" for the wheelchair acts to gangstalk me is to replicate the seated experience in a mobile fashion, all to compare whatever bioenergetics data they gain from me seated at my desk, to apply while I am walking. Not my problem, so why am I involved in it without any consent?

And of note, some 80% of these motorized wheelchair acts are in a metallic flake deep red color, much like one of their favorite gangstalk vehicle colors (see pictures below). I don't really know if the wheelchair acts are to re-invoke subconscious adverse reactions, or that they represent a seated presence around me in public for pure bioenergetics comparison purposes. Either way, the perps know I loathe the sight of medical paraphenalia, and their long past incursions in my developmental years may have caused this. They haven't been able to access subconscious recall until the past year it would seem, and they may well be working on it as I write this. There are no end of light and noise games that are occuring simutaneously with sighting Unfavored subjects, so it seems that they don't yet know how to fully access these kinds of recollections. And of note, I cannot either, as they may have deleted my conscious recall of these putative traumatic events.

Onto some diversionary pictures, and the red show that was on yesterday, along with the red plasma clouds they put in front of me. This, after seeing a picture of Cyd Charise in an all red dance outfit.

Taken 06-18-2008, 1654h. This is the 900 block View St. looking NE. and there six red colored vehicles in this picture, and the following pictures cover the rest of my balcony view at that time. Four red vehicles with a single black colored one in the file on the right, and a fifth red vehicle directly across the street from them. The sixth red vehicle is at the very top of the frame and in the shade, parked behind the blue colored vehicle.

Taken 06-18-2008, 1654h and made to be out of focus by perp fuckery. This is an extension of the above scene from my balcony; four parked vehicles, a white, a deep green behind the tree, and two deep metallic red colored vehicles. Counting all the red colored vehicles so far, eight, but there is more.

Taken 06-18-2008, 1654h, looking SE. Another three parked red vehicles in the small opening I can see between the trees, and an additional brown colored pickup truck with cut foliage in the box, and some kind of red plastic on top of the pile. Interesting that the cut foliage is spatially arranged beside the live foliage of the tree. That makes 11 red colored parked vehicles arranged around my apartment. I count 10 more vehicles that aren't colored red, for a red vehicle count of 11/21. Will anyone dare suggest that I am making this up?

And to add yet more orchestral silliness, check out the day-glo plastic traffic cones that have been arranged outside the rightmost red pickup truck for no apparent reason, and then one on top of its cab. All to arrange some kind of comparative red interaction of the traffic cones between the asphalt and the pickup cab. (And when I thought of this perp objective, extensive rumbling started overhead, projected noise from their remote harassment site). Strange as it may seem, this is not the first time the perps have arranged a dayglo traffic cone on top of a vehicle. They will even place them on rooftops.

Taken 06-18-2008, 1720h. Why not pass a mobile red colored vehicle down the red vehicle lined street for funzies. If you can zoom in, add a dude in the near ubiquitous red shirts they are suddenly wearing, and a blonde in mid-grey behind him, the picture catching her ridiculous arm swinging walk that is almost mandatory among the ambulatory gangstalkers.

Anyhow, one can go silly taking so many arranged vehicle pictures, as there are plenty of opportunities, but not all the time. And since I "forget" to take my camera out now, these balcony shots are the best that I can get, save special occasions. So yes, 06-18-2008, was a big day for red color games, and the highlight (of a kind) was they placed these red plasma clouds inside my apartment, and alternated them with an apple green color. I suspect there will be more of these full vision color tests, as they are still working with smaller color props.

I noted in past blog postings on gym visitations that the perps had some special arrangements to place gangstalkers around where I, and others in my class were working out. There was three of us pulled from the floor exercise room to work out in the public area on mats side by side; me on the left, a small red haired and brown shirted woman on my immediate right, and the blonde class coordinator working out as well. Once we finished the stretches we were done, and then needed a pass for the next visitation and to write up the excercises in the book. The three of us vacated the area at about the same time and hung up our mats. Then I noted a dude in scraggly hair and a mid-grey colored shirt occupied the area where the blonde woman class coordinator worked out, another person established themselves over the exact location of the red headed woman, and a brown topped woman in brown skin, likely a well tanned Caucasian, began exercising over where I had been. This new arrangement of taking me out of the floor exercise room allows the perps to rush their chosen operatives in their particular colors of clothes and skin to locate themselves exactly where I had been. And that they are undertaking this to also attempt to gather some kind of auric glow off the exact location of others, placing the Unfavored in their place. This is very similar to placing the Unfavored behind blondes as I have indicated in past blog postings.

The overhead pounding and clunking continues as I read movie reviews; as always, this is steel and concrete building, and there is about 12" between levels, and yet "somehow" my putative upstairs "neighbor" can make noises that somehow transfers down to me. Though in fact, the assholes can project sound from remote locations to be heard elsewhere, and they have done this plenty often.

Another example of the weirdness of placing operatives in specific public locations to be then replaced by a second operative was evident today. I was waiting for the traffic control to cross on a crosswalk and there was a couple on the opposite side waiting to cross, and a larger woman standing back some 4' from the front of the crosswalk, seeming not doing anything, save look profoundly odd while standing around for no apparent purpose. Then the couple "decided" (with amazing unanimity) to not wait at the crosswalk, but to double back some 8' and then take another direction, 90 degrees down the street, instead of crossing it. Odd enough, but then the woman doing nothing moved into the location exactly where the couple were, and then when I was checking this out, the dude member of the couple pulled his shoe off, held it up high, feigning to look inside of it, and then put it on again. It would seem that the perp objective was to attain some kind of energetic transference between the locations, and that holding up his shoe was part of this correlation stunt.

Just more wierd bullshit that goes on, all to harass the living fuck out of me, and largely because the perps fucked up with their traumatization abuse before I was 5 or 6 years old. If I had developed split personalities from this putative abuse, I doubt that they would of selected me for this depraved harassment exercise they are now perpetrating upon me. They have had plenty of unfortuneate subjects who splintered their personalities in their young developmental years, (e.g. Catherine O'Brien) and I wasn't one of them. Who knew abuse came as standard treatment in the 1950's, all to extend the experimental depravities of WW II? And they are still at it, 100 hundred years late if the Air Loom Gang story is true, and are confounded by the effects of all the toxins we have ingested. And the overhead pounding (12" of concrete, recall) has just started up another round.

More music listening, and the additional "environmental" noises as added accompaniment.

It is time to call this posting done for the day, and hope for less harassment tomorrow. Today has also been made more aggravating because the noise of everything has been amped up today, including this keyboard as I am typing.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Phone Games

A day that began on a high harassment level has tapered off since, thankfully. Getting inundated with fake touches, faux crumbs under my fingers, glass bashing fakery (the peanut butter jar was making extensive noises while there was no contact with the knife), and later real chocolate crumbs that I wasn't allowed to pick up with my fingers as they somehow squeezed out. Even turning a page in a book or newspaper is a major endeavor, as the perps often have them stick together.

The perps have been putting on the phone sabotage, and have continued it today. I was getting voice mail but no ringing through when I was here all day. I called the service, and they booked a technician to come today 06-18-2008. Today, I "happen" to check my voice mail, and lo, if there wasn't a message from a phone service technician indicating he called yesterday. I phoned up the service again, and they claim they "made a mistake" in booking the technician for yesterday when I clearly said Wednesday.

This time, the service person on the phone "decided" to do some investigation, and have me reconnect the phone wire directly to the phone modem and bypass the apartment intercom system that is also connected to this one phone. And lo, if it didn't ring when he called back, indicating that the apartment intercom connection is "somehow" causing the problem. As I have two other phones that were sabotaged from before, all to change the color of the handset IMHO, there is the possibility of using one of them for the intercom system alone, and pulling out the connecting wire that runs 7' along the floor, up the door height, over the front door, down the door height, returns parallel along the closet door, and reaches the modem. All this extra wire is just what the perps do on the streets around here; they bury cable a few inches deep along most of my walking beat. But it seems that the perps want me to at least visit the storage locker to retrieve one of these phones.

And it "so happens" that the 12" steel sewage pipe runs over the top of the storage lockers, and it is very likely that they want me to go down there for the first time in a year, and do their remote energetics assay games. And to no surprise, they also had me take a massive crap earlier, and I suspect that this feeds into this scenario as well. They had brown colored vehicles posted down the street, some 300' away after taking my crap, so I am sure this all feeds the perp's abiding brown color obsession.

In the last apartment residence, the perps also put on a waste pipe overhead of basement path to my vehicle. I could never figure out why such a small diameter (2") waste pipe was doing in a 140 suite apartment building. And so it seems that they were busy attempting more games then, and decided to increase the pipe size and then work on smaller ones later.

Yesterday I was busy helping out, and got plenty of cardboard box activity time, much like the day before in a differing location. And when dropped off, why, there was a stack of cardboard boxes in a parking lot that were sitting outside of a white cube van. Funny how all these brown cardboard box games keep surfacing, and chasing me over town. One of my pictures shows an operative packing brown boxes next to another operative moving furniture in mid-sidewalk, also a source of brown, the particle board, and the laminated surface.

Today is a likely to be a shut-in day, save the visit to the locker, should it come to pass. I got screwed into going down to the basement, only to find that the locker area door was locked. This was after the building manager promised it would be open for me. Back to this game again; three abortive trips for one successful storage locker visitation. As it so "happens", tenants in this building are not permitted to have a locker room access key, and therefore I am put through this grovelling process all to be jerked around. Another done-that-been-there event. And of course I had my elevator gangstalker "happening" to need to go to the basement just as I did, bypassing the main floor. Another chance defying stunt the perps made sure that I noted. He was in mid-grey work clothing, and did the usual wandering around they all do.

I took the city bus back from the location I was at yesterday, a route and time that I have taken before. And just like last time, there were over 30 "bus passengers", on board, and the usual litany of freaks and wierds again. I have never seen a full bus after 1800h in this town, and again, here was another exception.

Before taking the bus back to my place, l had been handling brown plastic hose reels and like products, and lo, if at the bus stop they didn't have the same light brown plastic wood as the bench surface. But it still wasn't enough, as they added a same light brown plastic basketed shopping cart beside the bus stop. And even that over-obvious setup wasn't enough, as the perps added yet another light brown plastic abanconed shopping art on the opposite side of the road, some 30' away. And of course there were no end of intervening vehicles passing between the two shopping carts. And when I got up to get to the bus, at least eight gangstalkers surrounded me, all as seeming disembarking bus passengers. The perps even put a firewood truck in advance of the bus, looping through the mall parking lot and then exiting again. I call this "wood stalking" and it seems to happen nearly every time I go out, and this was only a more blatant case of this particular harassment method.

I got screwed out of remembering to access the locker storage with my apartment key, and only when the perps planted the notion was I allowed to enter the room. And lo, if there wasn't a mattress in position at the entry, and the other half along the central aisle. I had three gangstalkers in the elevator to accompany me, one young woman in a puke yellow outfit with aviators shades on while inside. And lo, if I didn't "discover" the pair of aviator shades I owned in the days of contact lenses, now totally useless to me. As I promised them to my brother, I can now deliver, as I had the impression (totally mutable now since the perps can access it remotely), they were in my apartment.

And in scrounging through my boxes, (think brown color games for the perps), I did not find either of my last two phones, the ones that were sabotaged. Then it dawned on me; the perfect time to fuck with someone's recall is when they are moving, as they may have tossed the item out rather than storing it. I had no recollection of throwing my sabotaged phones out, but who knows, as the perps could of stolen them directly from the storage boxes. In fact, there was a huge amount of PC cabling that also wasn't there, and normally I keep that stuff. It seems that undertaking futile missions is a huge perp imperative, and this is only one example of many every week.

While down in the dank concrete environs of the storage locker area, I noticed the perps had also moved some of the street sourced hallway fixtures they had upstairs on this floor. The streetworks warning sign was beside my locker, as was a 8' section of particleboard with black and white laminations on it. And while there, the perps pulled a blood sample by creating a lesion on my left thumb, that is staying red, even if there was no causal event. (It is difficult to cut one's self with a cardboard box). And when exiting the elevator after this mission, the brown testing wasn't over yet; there, in my way, was a negro dude with a bicycle with his helmet on and shades pulled down on his face, below his eyes. I take the latter look to mean that the perps did not want me to see his entire face, and so they adorned him with the shades to cut off some of his countenance. Back to the functional decomposition games again, breaking everything down into smaller pieces, and then working from that. It seems the degree of Unfavored association with negro males is such that showing only partial views of their faces is what the perps need to do, as well as putting a more positive display, that being Barack Obama IMHO, ever the conspiratorial observer I have become.

The perps even brought on a bedbug to "arrive" on my arm, and when squeezing it dead, they put on an outside noise at that very moment. Earlier, when I had just awakened, they put on a live one also, and noisestalked me crushing a dead one at the same time. It seems that the insect invasion of late was all about killing the bugs. And lo, at gym, they have an exercise they call "dead bug". No coincidence that. I also notice some red blood smears on my cleaned sheets, suggesting a recent activity as the blood hadn't gone brown colored.

It was an laundry day today, and for the most part the only thing the perps screwed me over was folding the shirts up. They have always sabotaged this particular activity, and I always wondered why I was such a bad luck case in not being able to symmetrically fold shirts. It turns out, there is a billion dollar budgeted organization that ensures that I am not allowed to do this. Imagine that, all for me, and I never gave any consent for this depraved agenda to invade my life.

And if I didn't get enough of UK accent exposure on Monday, I got more on Tuesday when helping out; it turns out that a UK person was hired to do the job, to ensure that I got at least 30 minutes more of this banter before he slipped out, never to be seen for the rest of they day. Weird, these UK accented nutcases that are arranged for me to hear. I also got an Irish accented dude for a time, putting on the talk in my proximity. And like two weeks ago, I got to listen to the blonde woman with the male voice; she was put on duty near me, and spoke to someone. The perps wiped my recall of this, all to put her on as another surprise like last week. Again, this looks to be a perp effort to augment a Favored person with an Unfavored attribute. Just as the perps often arrange for blondes (Favored) to be wearing brown colored clothes (Unfavored color), so do they arrange for blondes (Favored) to have male voices (Unfavored). Go figure.

The perps have been changing my voice all day long today; every minute it is changed up, and it seems that they cannot do it fast enough; each time they provoke me into ranting at the assholes, they modify my voice, now more than 40 times today, and I am sure they haven't finished.

And I notice the bulk gasoline tankers (tractor trailers) have been out in force while travelling over the past two days; they put on four for one trip leg, and yesterday, they put on the Chevron gasoline tanker near a Chevron station beside the highway as my bus passed by. It seems they cannot get enough of me on this one, and it does make me wonder what the next extension to this game is. I also noticed from last week that they "invaded" a Chevron station to set up what looked to be a maintenance job. I went past this gasoline station when s. bound headed to the doctor appointment and there was nothing unusual. Some 40 minutes later when I passed by in the opposite direction, they had blue painted temporary mesh construction fencing up at the entrances and at least three white colored trades vans at 90 degree offsets, and also had a boom truck in place, "working" on the overhead canopy. Regular readers will know that I am often gangstalked by boom trucks, and that the current record is four on one job. There is something the perps can gain from elevating someone in my proximity. The mass of the boom may also add to the fuckery.

I got screwed out of using the last of my last set of pictures, and then they let me in on what I would of recalled, had not my it been erased. So here is the last of the set, a mixture of various anomalies that "erupts" around me.

Taken 06-09-2008, 0913h. Nothing too incriminating in this picture, taken from my parent's place. Two burgundy vehicles, the one on the right matches the adjacent tree and has been parked there for at least three months as some kind of longer term color reference, as it is not used. And camping season has struck on the right, the location of a cluster of two white colored vehicles and two black colored vehicles in last week's pictures, exactly where the camper now is.

Taken 06-10-2008, 1138h. Two similar white vehicles parked together in file, one behind a tree, one of the perps' favorite outside objects to play peekaboo with. Note the dark brown colored box sitting on the stairway between them, presumably for some kind of color referencing.

I got some full cloud plasma exposures after dinner. Or more specifically, after I ate the nuts from the tin I aquired two days ago to supplement my diet. The tin has a way fugly purple plastic lid to it, and that might have been the attraction to the perps. They blasted my full vision with a red effect, everything red, and then after some three seconds they switched it to a bright green, alternated back to red, then to green, and then having projections only in green plasma; my watch, my hand, the edge of the dinner plate. I don't normally get such obvious visual anomalies planted in front of me, most times they are fleeting subsecond flashes, thousands per hour.

Later, after reading an obituary about Cyd Charrise where she was pictured in a red outfit, the perps baited me with stroboscopic flashes to look outside to see some eight collected red colored vehicles parked outside in one cluster. (There must be twenty red colored vehicles that I saw in total over three streets). I duly took some pictures, and will load them up tomorrow, having already done some for today. Like I have mentioned, there has been plenty of arranged red vehicles, clothing and other props around me, and the perps aren't stopping anytime soon. If I don't like the color red, or brown or yellow, why am I being hounded in my own apartment with orchestrated arrays of red colored vehicles?

Another annoyance of increasing vexation is the perps planting the sensation of insects crawling on me; my hair or exposed skin. The real "need" is for them to force me to touch myself to aid in their ongoing remotely applied fuckery. And also, they have me use my fingers and hand in a way to sweep off any insects to later eradicate them, except no insect. In this way, they have me run my hands through my hair as part of their agenda of remote determination of my bioenergetic state.

Onto the macabre again. The topic of the missing feet that resurface in the waters of this region has been mentioned in past blogs. And now an additional fifth foot, left one this time, has been found. No one knows what their origins are, but let me announce my conspiratorial take. There is a black operations agency that is harassing me to the level of constant life-rape as one can discern from this blog's postings. And they also have a foot fetish related to their "need" to understand the energetic interactions of feet, footwear and how they relate to the Earth and all its localities. That it is at least a project of an order of magnitude greater than the Manhattan Project does not faze these assholes in the least. My off the wall take is that the perps are up to more games with their foot fetish obsession, and floated these feet around to aid them in their sick quest. The first four were all right feet, and the fifth one is unstated. And as the perps expend no end of effort on right side gangstalkers, (left hand drive pedestrians), the story has the perps' fingerprints all over it.

I am listening to Stepen Fearing concert online; an interesting performer, and one of the few male singer/songwriters that I like. As one could probably discern from the Favored list, my preference in music is female vocal; jazz, folk and some pop, if melodic.

While listening to the music, the perps put another live bed bug on my right arm, the second today, and in the identical right arm location. Again, I was obliged to crush it dead, and I am sure this identical setup to this morning was all part of the comparative nature of this ongoing harassment. I wasn't listening to music the first time this morning when the bed bug incident erupted, but tonight I was, and that is likely a big part of it. The perps seem to have an expectation that music can enable them do dig deeper into my neural realm in realtime.

I don't believe this, but it "happened"; while looking for news stories for a link over the above mentioned found foot, the fifth one, there is now a sixth foot that has been recovered some hours ago. You heard about it here first.

Enough of the macabre exercises of the deranged black operations, and time to call this one done for the day.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Out All Day

I finally made it back to my place after doing my helping out; 10 hours and then an hour to get back, as the buses were infrequent after 1800h. I am bushed to say the least, and there was plenty of harassment action to keep me entertained.

We were doing a store display, and one of the staff "happened" to be Scottish, and still had a strong accent. Regular readers will know that UK and Scottish accents are often inserted into the harassment scene, as one of the Unfavored. This older guy was OK; very helpful, and even funny sometimes. The perps suggest that I met the infamous Dr. Ewen Cameron when I lived in Montreal in 1956-7, as he had a strong Scottish accent. The seeming intent is for them to re-invoke these subconscious traumatization associations, and thereby measure them. I had a full day of Scottish accent, and that was enough, though I never felt bothered by the person, and thought he was most helpful. One can never believe the perp sickos of course, but they have been consistent on this particular Unfavored theme for a long time, now six years. And even longer if one includes my ex-wife who was born Scottish, and raised in the UK. All that time, the perps could not figure out what they were looking for, going back to 1979.

And while helping out, I noted, the perps were hammering me with something, as I had less cognition and felt wasted for no apparent reason. The perps like to created events where I am totally clued out, and they do this by interfering with my hearing. And after the other person asked for a repeat, the guy didn't make any sense. A lifetime of this kind of fuckery isn't enough it seems.

I am too whacked out, tired that is, to put much into a blog posting today, maybe tomorrow I will have some recovery time.

And the above was a motorcycle moment, or at least in noise. I had a six motorcycle honor guard when coming back on the bus, aka, noisey gangstalking. And then another weird stopped his motorcycle in mid-street, and then stood there for about 30 seconds. Then he pulled into an curb area where no stopping was permitted. The rider had shades on and a kerchief over his nose, so his face was completely hidden. I wonder what the perps intent was, as this "do-squat" rider had all the time to be "featured", stopping in mid-street. I have never, ever, seen so many flagrant and widespread vehicular nuttiness as I have seen in this town, aka, torture center, as in the past six years. I have driven in LA, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Vancouver, Calgary, and the utter bullshit that goes on here is incredible. I usually see at least 20 red-light infractions per day, the vehicular gangstalker blowing through a red light to make a right turn is almost the new standard.

Time to call this one done, and do some cursory web surfing; I am getting fried in some way such that demotivation is the more prominent mind set.