Tuesday, December 01, 2009

The Move to North Carolina

It's been a while since I've posted anything about my situation because not much has changed, even though I moved from Indiana to North Carolina in May 2009. However, there have been a few developments that are worth discussing.

The situation at Irish Hills Apartments in South Bend, Ind., became intolerable for everyone involved, so my lease was not renewed after three years. I lived there from March 2006 to May 2009. All my neighbors were perps, so there was a constant barrage of door-slamming, trunk-slamming and other harassment strategies. Sometimes I would slam my front door in response, which apparently offended some of the perps involved, and I got in trouble with the apartment management for that. I had pretty much decided to move out at the end of May anyway, so I was more than happy to comply with management's request.

Last December, I drove through Western North Carolina on my way back home from a trip to Florida, and I really liked what I saw, so I decided to move there. I found a house up in the hills in a small community called Arden, just outside Asheville. It has several advantages over the situation I faced in South Bend.

For one thing, since I no longer live in an apartment complex, people can't slam their doors within a few feet of my home. Sometimes my next-door neighbors slam their car doors, but they're probably 50 yards or more from my front door, so it's not nearly as bad. Also, I have a nice view of the mountains from my back yard, and the winter is a lot milder down here. It snows only about 15 inches a year compared to 75 inches in South Bend, and it never gets down below zero, whereas that happens a lot in South Bend.

On the other hand, I live just a few miles from the airport now, and we get a lot of airplanes flying nearby. Often it will be timed to coincide with my daily walk to the mailbox at the end of my driveway. They'll try just about anything to intimidate me, but I just let it roll off my back like everything else.

Even though I don't have anyone living in extremely close proximity like before, the walls still make a lot of strange noises. I believe this is done with some type of acoustical weapon, but I'm not sure how it works. It could be fired by my neighbors, but I'm not sure. Usually when the walls start talking to me, it's timed to coincide with something I'm reading on the Internet or with a line in a movie I'm watching on TV.

Since they're contstantly trying to get me to kill myself, usually it involves a refernce to suicide or something to that effect. For example, a character in a movie might say something like, "I feel so lonely today," or something like that, and at the insant the sentence is completed, I'll hear the wall make a noise or someone will start a car or a lawn mower nearby within hearing range.

Being under surveillance 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year is really a drag, but the biggest problem I face is still finding food and drinks that are not contaminated. Almost everything I buy at the grocery store or in restaurants is spiked with some toxic chemical or another. Not only does the food taste bad, it often has some unpleasant side effects. I feel sharp pains in my abdomen sometimes, which could be the onset of cancer or some other dreadful disease.

The amazing thing to me is how many people are complicit in the poisoning of an innocent person. For example, I ordered a glass of water in a restaurant recently, and it tasted OK, so I drank about half of it. Then the waitress poured more water into the glass, even though I didn't request it, and I noticed it had a funny taste after that.

There must be hundreds and hundreds of employees at local grocery stores, drugstores and restaurants who are aware of what's going on, because the shelves have to be stocked with certain items when I'm headed to the store. And whoever controls the music in the store has to be ready to play certain songs when I walk in the door.

Often the songs will be really sad, depressing songs, played at an unusually high volume -- the type of music that's totally inappropriate for a public place. Or sometimes the song will contain a reference to some aspect of the mind-control project.

As I've explained in other posts on this blog, the intelligence agencies have had the capability to read people's minds at a distance for many, many years. Although I'm pretty sure I've had micochips implanted in my brain and in other places throughout my body, it might not be necessary to have an implant in order to have your mind read. I think the current satellite technology might be sufficient.

At any rate, one day when I was in Walgreens, they played "If You Could Read My Mind" by Gordon Lightfoot. Funny thing is, I always liked that song until all this happened to me. You know, the one that goes, "If you could read my mind, what a tale my thoughts would tell ... "

Now, it's possible that I just happened to be in there when that song was playing, but it's not very likely. One way I can tell is, the volume at which the music is playing is way louder than usual. Another giveaway is how often this happens. If it just happened once in a blue moon, that would be one thing, but when it happens all the time, it's pretty obvious something is up.

Another one of their favorite tricks is when I get in line to pay for my stuff, there will be two or three customers in front of me with extremely complicated and time-consuming transactions. This could involve an unusually large order, difficulties with payment, the need to send someone back to check on the price of an item or any number of bogus reasons.

What I'm saying is that the customers and the employees are in collusion with each other. It's something that is agreed on in advance and carried out at the appropriate time. Then, when I finally get to the front of the line, the employees always try to act so sincere when they apologize for the long wait.

This wouldn't be that big of a deal except that it happens so often. Usually I expect it to happen and just shrug it off, but occasionally I surprise myself and blurt out a comment that lets them know that I know it's all part of the game plan.

One time when that happened, I said to the clerk, "Don't worry, it happens all the time. Matter of fact I expect it. It's called state-sponsored harassment, and it's been happening to me for five years." They didn't like that.

I wonder if there are other people in the community who are subjected to the same treatment. It seems hard to believe they go to all that trouble just for me. But whether I'm the only one or there are many, many others, it all amounts to the same thing -- the arrival of fascism in the United States. One definition of fascism is the merger of the corporations with the state. And when retail establishments in the community are carrying out mind-control operations at the direction of the intelligence agencies, that's exactly what you have.

Doesn't anyone ever object to this sort of thing? Doesn't anyone ever say, "You want me to do what?" Apparently not, because it might cost them their job.

Another thing they don't like is when I play golf. Often, when I get to the course, it will be backed up with players on a weekday, even though I usually avoid playing courses that are busy. And the players in front of me will be especially slow, and they'll pretend to be looking for a lost ball or wahtever. Or when I take a backswing on a putt, I'll hear the crack of a drive from the adjacent tee. Little things designed to throw me off my game. Airplanes flying by overhead as I line up a putt, lawn mowers starting up, whatever.

Or shotguns going off. That was about the most extreme thing I've had to deal with in terms of noise. One day I must have heard 10 shotgun blasts from a nearby farm, each time as I was about to line up a putt or take a swing.

Rock bands get into the act, too. At the last live show I attended, the instant I walked in the door, the band started playing. Anything to let me know that I'm under surveillance and that everyone around me is participating.

1 comment:

Jeremy said...

Ah, the gunshots.

They really loved that particular tactic at my last place. It wasn't V2K or any other kind of sensory illusion because two of my house-mates noticed - until they were recruited; then they pretended to be oblivious to the noise like everyone else.

Example: I would play an episode of The Simpsons (before they started with the Media Mirroring campaign) off the DVR - not at the usual time the show would air, so I knew the noise campaign was directed specifically at me - and someone would be firing a gun in the distance in time with the theme music for the program.

I like this abuse log. Matter of fact, no wild theorizing, no pleas for help - let's face it, the only people who give a crap about us are other targets and they aren't in a position to assist us. I'm moving it up a few notches in the master list.

I knew something was really wrong in America from about 1999 on, and had resolved to leave by 2003, but family business intervened, and by the time it was over with I was targeted. Realistically I probably would have been targeted no matter where I went.

Keep the blog going!