Humming along..

2014-11-22T08:43:00.000-08:00

My Betters?
(begun Friday 21st November at 6.15am)

Edit Friday at 3.37pm. At 1.15pm the power was cut, and a couple of calls came in from neighbours to verify that we were all in the same boat. I'd lugged a blue bag up to the top just an hour later at 2.15pm when one of No. 6's alarms went off and I'd turned to find the two now always-on outdoor lights at Cottage No. 11 were activated, and for some reason, so was our streetlight! The bulb blazed out a neon white and as I watched it died again. A couple more chirrups from Balliram's bunker and we were back in action. Was that hour-long demonstration of control created by the young gentleman who looks barely old enough to hold a driver's licence, as he sits ensconced within Agent Balliram's Bunker 'holding the fort'? Just how many proxy quantum Area Controller's is Jannie van Zyl's Favourite permitted to employ, and at what cost to the locals and their health?

What do you call someone who 'doesn't subscribe to a song of fear and hopelessness/helplessness'? (You'll have to pardon the incomplete quotation, but it's still worthy of a repeat).
Could the answer perhaps be 'Chosen'? Someone who's been blessed with an invitation to hop onboard Sutcliffe's Glorious Smart City quantum laser/wifi neighbour spying upon neighbour operation? After all, those with direct links/connections to the various Muni department officials who purport to be on some sort of Good Team, have no need to warble a dirge of misery, not so?

Old school and well educated, these Muni officials will insist that the Trojan Horse they have helped create within the City's Departments, is becoming stronger by the day, as the numbers hidden within it's belly increase, and it's just a matter of time before the Rot is forced to abdicate?
And there of course, is the catch. Time.
Once you or your precious children have officially joined the ranks of this Brave New Army, you are sworn to secrecy, and may not speak of it to anyone other than your fellow quantum Cadets, for fear of banishment or worse.
They will OWN you, from the minute you pass the early hacking initiation rites, and you WILL be silent on the subject, no matter how difficult it becomes for you.

My decade-long observations (okay, cue the obligatory derisive snort) have me concluding that the quantum laser/wifi technology has an almost immediate effect on the Operative's reasoning abilities,and that they rapidly start to feel in someway superior to the masses of Other, or Unchosen.
The occasional sniping raids carried out on fellow FB Community pages are designed with exactly what purpose in mind? To further demoralise those that are struggling to make a difference out there, but are not considered suitable quantum Project material apart from as targets or labrats?
Am I, as so often happens, missing the point, when all I get is a sudden nasty whiff of the Omnipotence Disease that goes hand in hand with the eerie ability to hang invisibly on an unsuspecting neighbour's bedroom wall and record their paltry private lives?

At a quarter after midnight last night, I woke properly, drenched in sweat, to find the Buttholesurfers having a full go at my rear end. A particularly nasty quantum laser party trick that eventually had me up and about at around 12.45am.. ‪#‎wavesto‬ batteurcarey.
I'd ventured back to bed roughly an hour later, armed with my cellphone and Allen Spence's number, just in case Rear-Admiral Balliram intended picking up where they'd left off.

A quick word with No.17 a day or so ago, confirms that I am by no means the only one being put physically through the fires of hell by these invisible quantum thuggees, and that there is no pain medication that will alleviate the agonies currently being directed at that old lady's leg. ‪#‎vomit‬
The Poor Creature's Handlers identified his overwhelming lust for pain and misery administration early on, and as such he'll be allowed to continue feeding off the more vulnerable of the Charges on this stretch of the powerlines, ad nauseum. He's been redeployed? To a certain extent I'll buy that, but it would appear he has installed trusted family and friends in the Bunker next door at No.6 to ensure that I am aware of their presence 24/7, whether the Beast himself is home or away. A proxy apple? A proxy apple's BF?

Fear and helplessness? Bugger that, dude. As hideously painful as it can and does get, I nonetheless am privileged to have a front row seat to watch in fascination at the ease with which the seemingly helpful and incorruptible are being morphed into brainwashed quantum Project zombies. In many cases, people that I still tend to regard as my Betters, who are now behaving with increasing and barely-concealed disdain and malice towards their fellow-man.
Enjoy the delicious cool weather while it lasts, and make the most of every day of freedom that you think you still have.
Peace.

Friday 21st November 2014 at 8.19am.

2014-11-22T08:41:00.004-08:00

Edit on Wednesday at 2.14pm.

Some sort of closure on the matter of the missing R55 vodacom airtime voucher. The GameWrecker managed to get hold of the vodacom Helpline yesterday and they checked the airtime pin number and said that it had been used way back in October already. No problem. I have in fact made that same error just once before, and within seconds of hitting send I'd received a text to say that the number had already been used. On this recent occasion no such sms was received, so I guess I may be forgiven for suspecting foul play. Our Monitors fiddle away with our devices to the extent that nothing is as it should be. ‪#‎huffsandpuffs‬.

Our iBurst signal remains extremely dodgy and continues to drop right down to a bar or two when I'm busy on Facebook. Insurance of some sort? Try loading a picture and the wait is exasperating to say the least. Definitely a tweak from one of our Monitors nearby, to play it safe.

Now Tuesday at 6.48am. My rock-steady iBurst signal has just begun playing up again, and is now fluctuating wildly down to just one bar. Something I may have said in a FB post perhaps? See if it adjusts itself, or call Bruce Poole at tradepage and check whether there's a wide-spread problem. Agent Balliram? What would you suggest I do? (and keep it clean dear boy! )

Edit added at 10.38am.
At 7.50pm yesterday evening I loaded the usual prepaid vodacom airtime voucher worth R55 and sent it to 100. I'm still waiting for the verification text to arrive in my Inbox, and for the now paid-for airtime to arrive. I also sent a R49 sms bundle pin number through, and that was verified immediately. After all the years of supporting vodacom it's the first time I've been let down on the airtime side. I've posted on the vodacom FB page asking for assistance, but so far nada. Is this a common occurrence?

Oh - and despite that ‪#‎FlipDeezy‬ of ‪#‎efnet‬ (aka Balliram) has pulled away in the black V8, my iBurst signal continues it's dodgy activity. Methinks it's merely a demonstration of how small remote mischiefs can rattle your cage if you allow them to. Ain't gonna happen. If corrupting our iBurst signal makes our quantum monitors happy then so be it. If vodacom are so desperate for cash they need my paltry R55, what can I say? Smile folks, there's magic in the air!

2014-11-22T08:40:00.004-08:00

Blue Murder...(begun Monday 17th November at 5.15am)

A combination of the two would be absolutely fabulous, ne Janneman? There's a real need this time for it to look like natural causes, and I'm pretty much handing it to your lot on a plate?
Blackened, shrivelled lungs and a rotting hide? What more could an irritated Telecom's Strategist wish for, in a target?

Any of you out there know someone with advanced squamous cell cancer of the skin? I didn't think so, as even the dumbest of them DO something about it before it reaches dinner-plate size.. So yeah - When I say the damned thing healed over for a good two or three months recently, before it was re-targeted, you only have my word on it, and that as you know, is shaky at best.

They certainly mean business this time, and for the last couple of weeks, once I've bathed and dressed of an afternoon, I come through to the lounge to be met by a wave of bushdweller's campfire smoke, and I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out what that's doing to what's left of my nicotine saturated lungs. Step outdoors and there's no smoke visible, and yet the stench fills the house. More quantum magic?
That's it? Going after the results of my lifelong addiction to the sun and cigs with such cruel dedication is an idea you simply can't get your heads around? I'm in some sort of denial is all? Bah! Suckers.

Anyways, that's my shit, and I'm keen to know how YOU'RE holding up? Given any thought to my suggestion that you have a scan done on any joints that are bothering you? That you get an official percentage readout of the soft tissue/cartilage surrounding the offending area, and if the pain persists, you go back again a month later and have further measurements done? It may just be the only way you could prove that the loss of your cartilage is occurring at an unnatural rate, and that it is in fact being cooked off by your friendly neighbourhood quantum spies.

The same applies to your white bloodcell count. If you find yourself taken ill and the docs can't pinpoint the cause, you should yell blue murder that you want your white blood cell count checked, and if there are any discrepancies, you should wake up and realise that you're in a bake-off, and the dish of the day is yourself.
Sure, the quantum Project Authors foresaw the need to have absolute control over the Blood Banks across the country, to prevent mass panic, and they've got their stooges in charge in each province, but who knows, you might get lucky and get some honest results, despite the tight lid they'll be keeping on those increasingly give-away stats.

The sun has just crept up behind St. Theresa's, and my Monitor's zoom-in option is making what should be a beautiful morning, somewhat unpleasant, as the flames lick my disfigured back out here on the verandah. It's almost impossible to believe that someone could be quite so unforgivably stupid as myself, but there's no reason why you should follow suit.
Just because you're Chosen and have been fooled into joining the Smart City quantum Project, (or whatever version is up and running in your neck of the woods) doesn't mean you're safe in any way, and both No 17 and No 33 continue to appear to be under fire, despite their upgrade. True, O Foul One? You're going after them hammer and tongs, despite their enrolment, are you not?
Peace.

Monday 17th November 2014 at 6.38am.

2014-11-22T08:39:00.000-08:00

Babbling..
(begun Monday 10th November at 2pm)

Any nasty aches and pains arrived this week?
Any tooth-grinding jabs to your shoulder, knee, wrists, or even eardrums?
Around about the same time your geyser played up, your Smartfone had to go to the agents, and your DStv went on the blink? Losing any bulbs around the house? Any dippage to your lights of an evening?

Agent Balliram's early quantum laser 'experiments' had been directed at our hands and wrists, with astonishing results. This so-called perfectly safe quantum laser/wifi surveillance technology had proceeded to wreak havoc on the soft tissue surrounding the joints in our wrists, hands, and fingers, and Alice, Sue, Penny and I, had all felt the results of CrackerJack's over-zealous attentions.

The first two inexplicable but visible infections had actually occurred in my elbows, but once he'd gotten into his stride it was the setting fire to our hands that he'd concentrated on. As always he'd ended up overdoing it, and my hand had ultimately swelled up like a football for no apparent reason.
Like I've said before, dear Sheldon had been flummoxed, and had sent me for a scan which had shown that I'd lost the cartilage right around my thumb joint.

You've lost one knee already to the Blessed Cause, and probably that friggen wireless mast hadn't helped at the time. You're on Medical Aid? Then how's about you go and have a scan done NOW of your good knee, and make sure you're given a written report of the estimated percentage of cartilage you have left. Sort of like an insurance, if you will?
See - If the nearby quantum mischief makers are ordered to go after your good remaining knee, the knowledge that you're keeping an eye on the cartilage might just give them second thoughts?

Last night, in between driving a red hot poker into my cancer as I sat like a bullseye in my TV chair, some Clever Dick nearby had hit my shoulder so hard that you could hear it grind when I moved. Just a taste of what my dear Vice Chair is currently going through, as these goondas hit him repeatedly.
By 8am this morning I was up on the terraces pushing my little manual mower with scarely a twinge to my shoulder. A miracle? Hell, no. While they may well have caused some damage to that soft tissue last night, as far as I'm concerned it's still my cancer they're after for the moment.

Is it feasible? Make any sense to you at all? That once you start to feel those jabs of abnormal pain directed at a specific joint, you head off chop-chop and have a scan done to ascertain the amount of cartilage you have surrounding that area. If the attacks and pain persist, you go the following month for another scan, and you could discover at last the proof you need, if your cartilage is found to be melting away at unnatural speed. The proof that these crippling attacks are in fact being carried out manually by the New Order quantum laser recruits living in your suburb.
That for whatever reason, you've been tagged for experimental purposes, and you could be set to face unimaginable levels of damaging pain.
The same pain that so many of you scoff at, as 'Virtual'.

It's just a Game? Invisibly chasing peiople from room to room in the privacy of their homes is a GAME? Targeting their eardrums repeatedly until they can be classified as hard of hearing, due to their age, is a GAME?
What they are doing to my Vice Chair's shoulder is for some sort of amusement?
Sutcliffe, Barnabas, and Telkom. Three names that have set the tone for this vicious Project and the brutal methods being used to achieve the Cherished Goal of World domination.
To the trenches, lads!! No, wait. It's too late. So let's just sit back and keep our lips safely zipped, and watch the Others being tortured?
Peace.

Monday 10th November 2014 at 2.15pm.

2014-11-22T08:37:00.005-08:00

Provocation?
(begun Sunday 9th November at 8.10am)

Your Facebook private messaging function been playing up more than usual? A corruption no doubt easily achieved by any number of your neighbourhood quantum Monitors, who are hacked into your internet devices.
Would I be nit-picking were I to say that referring to these wireless warriors as 'hackers' is a misnomer?
They are in fact Crackers, plain and simple, and they'll be taught and encouraged to cause mischief and damage where they can.

The death of that young DA Councillor for Mooi River? was pure unadulterated bad luck? You think? Clearly you have no idea of the level of monitoring going on up in the Midlands. That already there are pods of quantum laser recruits huddled in each town and village, and on the farms.
Bundu.net anyone? Who's to say young Ken D. hadn't mentioned his intention of putting up a poster on that specific pole? Whether said out loud or during a phone conversation, you'd be deluding yourself to imagine his every word and movement wasn't being monitored and recorded.

A simple matter then, for the cable to be cut just hours before he arrived, and tucked where he likely wouldn't notice it, and to ensure there was a live feed to that innocuous bit of wiring. There's to be an investigation? Ag, please. A waste of time, as the truth will never see the light of day. In fact, truth is so out of fashion, it's ridiculous.
Nasty thoughts won't bring the fellow back, so keep them to myself rather? Bugger that.
BTW, when your own kids suggest it might be better that you bypass my Facebook wall altogether, and to avoid my updates as so much rubbish, is about when you should do just the opposite. That is, unless you yourself are already brainwashed into believing your young sons and daughters are soon to be the saviours of this country, and you wouldn't dream of going against their wishes?

Once again, you think I'm kidding, right? Pfft.. There are plenty of witless muggles out there who have been overawed by their child's acceptance into the ranks of the quantum laser/wireless Army, and who have come to treat them with misguided and undue deference and respect.
It's like each time I pick up my Bic, I'm endearing myself to you further? NOT.
Even suggesting that your precious offspring are being corrupted and desensitised in order to carry out their new roles, is hurtful and untrue?
Now who's in denial, FFS?

I've been in the line of fire for going on a decade, and if anyone knows the depths of depravity these zombified recruits will be encouraged to sink to, I figure my hand is quite rightly up in the air. Stupid? Undeniably. Openly provoking the psychotic Cracker who was handed control of our powerlines and our lives, into forcing him to reveal his true character? You only have my word that the mischief and mayhem on this little stretch would've been carried out regardless of my prodding anyone.
Though of course, if it makes you feel better to tell yourselves I, or anyone else, deserve this ongoing sadistic abuse, then by all means continue wearing your Cap of Delusion, as we race head first into the New Age.
Peace.

Sunday 9th November 2014 at 9.25am.

2014-11-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

The times, they are a'changin..
(begun Saturday 8th November at 8.25am.)

Electron House down in Springfield is a piss-poor substitute for the ancient Hogwart's School of Magic, but for the purposes of drawing a parallel between the Harry Potter saga and the New Age quantum laser army, it'll have to do.
You're a fan of those books? My word, but I'd gobbled them up with glee, although right now I couldn't tell you much about them, except that Good had triumphed in the end.

You have to wonder whether any of the quantum Project Tutors actually refer to JK Rowling's works, during the brainwashing of those impressionable young minds.
What youngster could resist the idea of being awarded their very own personal Cloak of Invisibility once they've mastered the art of hacking into a neighour's privacy? In my version, House Slytherin gets all the glory, if only for the aptness of their name.

Quantum Recruits slithering in and out of Muggle's homes unseen, (and in the beginning at least, unfelt) their wands replaced by an advanced computerised laser program, enabling the would-be wizards to aim at their designated targets with increasing competence, as their skills improve with practise.
These youthful innocents may be told initially that their job is to merely capture the words and actions of the nearby Muggles, from whence the stolen data will be studied by some of the top Wizards, worldwide, in order to create a better life for all.
Any manner of levers will be employed to bend those fresh quantum Cadets to the Project Author's will, and I guarantee that 9 out of 10 will swiftly become addicted to the idea of totally invading someone's privacy, without the fear of getting caught.

Shall I share with you the brief unpleasantness that had occurred here at ours late on Diwali day? A bit of genuinely malicious mischief that's proven beyond a doubt that in our case, the second-generation of quantum Recruits are now rampaging in our home, and that alas, the Apple has fallen very near to the tree when it comes to our CockOfTheHeap, Agent Balliram?
Small wonder then, that the main focus day and night has reverted to the cancer between my shoulder blades, as these now thoroughly indoctrinated 'warriors' have no sense of shame whatsoever, and appear to have adopted a 'short life but a purposeful one' mantra, that has them seeing themselves as some sort of heroic martyrs, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Keeping company out on Telkom's Hidden Networks with the amoral, such as my dear Owner, was never designed to make your offspring a better person, but rather to dumb down their sensibilities and make them easier to manipulate.
Is there anything that can be done? You're asking ME? As much as the New Age wireless warriors are being taught to believe that the average Muggle is an air-wasting and expendible symbol of all that is wrong with the planet, have I perhaps been made to stand out as more despicable and deserving than most?

Oops, I nearly forgot. I managed to achieve that status with no outside influence whatsoever. You believe that crud? Seriously?
If that visible orb is truly a manifestation of any form of spiritual guardianship and guidance, I'd like to believe you would have spoken to me in a more kindly fashion, and been able to see and appreciate my pathetic struggles.
I must therefore conclude that your sphere is nothing less than a quantum laser spy, tasked to dog your every move, and I only hope your immune system can withstand the constant battering it must be taking as a result.

There's a function taking place just across on the Playing Field, and I've resorted to my trusty earplugs to take the edge off the endless announcements on the over-loud PA system. If the weather holds, I'm hoping that later on, the usual good music will kick in and I can shed my plugs and enjoy it, on this splendiferous if somewhat blustery day. Look UP and appreciate the magic that's taking place right before you.
Peace.

Saturday 8th November 2014 at 10.55am.

2014-11-07T05:38:00.000-08:00

The Devil making work?
(begun Friday 7th November at 2.30pm)

There's an air of desperation surrounding our local AmDram Society of late. I'd noticed that the White Widow had been resurrected by the Witness a few days ago, (http://witnessnews.mobi/…/r…/5860/sighting-of-white-widowand) had said as much to the GameWrecker in the monitored Polo yesterday.
The results? At about 12.45pm today, someone stuck their head over our top wall, calling out that he was looking for a Missus Webb.

The GameWrecker had gone up to see if he could help, and I could hear them conversing loudly, for ages.
Turned out to be a pleasant older Afrikaner gentleman, claiming to be a Private Investigator who was looking for a lady by the name of Natalie Faye Webb. She'd scammed his client out of a hefty amount of cash, put down as a deposit on an apartment for his student daughter in Cape Town.
Apparently the 'Investigator' hadn't connected Natalie Faye to either the White Widow or to Samantha Lewthwaite, until my old man had jogged his memory.. ‪#‎yawn‬

Do you really believe that this young pale-skinned convert to Islam is a serious terrorist threat? I have my doubts. I think she was plucked from relative obscurity, dickied up to be made to appear interesting, and is destined to be tossed into the mix by the Project's Mischief-making team every now and then, just to liven things up.

Today's lunchtime theatrical effort was quite possibly created by the same band of fun makers who'd (according to the Chirpster) called the RH Khan hospital with a bomb threat, a few hours ago?
Any ideas, Captain Laz? Let's face it. Every establishment in this area is wired to the max, with NO exclusions whatsoever. If the White Widow were hanging around Sherwood again, you'd most certainly be aware of it. Wanna pull the other one?
Peace.

Friday 7th November 2014 at 3.06pm.

2014-11-07T05:27:00.003-08:00

Cunning plans?
(begun Tuesday 4th November at 10.05am)

What could possibly be wrong on such a stupendously beautiful day? Care to run that question by Shrivaar's family? Snuffed out before he'd had a chance to realise his full potential?
North Ridge Road is wired to the quantum Project as heavily as we are. Was the Panday lad already on board the laser chain? Is their home festooned with the additional outdoor lighting necessary to promote the Blessed Signal? Where were his fellow quantum 'warriors' when he'd climbed into his little car and left home? Not even the Area Controller for that section saw him leave? You're 100% certain of that? You're absolutely positive that not one among you had watched any of those ghastly events play out? That the young man's lifeless body lying in that lake of blood wasn't recorded for posterity by a way more advanced technology than the cctv at that Engen Garage?

The murder and mayhem in this once fair land has been cunningly nurtured and fostered for decades by the very people who subsequently decided you were sufficiently desperate to buy into the most flamboyant lie of the lot. A better life for all, SE GAT!!!
WhyTF would the telecoms boys have the people's interests at heart? And yet you continue to kid yourselves that you're going to make a difference by employing a technology that is useless without the telephone companies full cooperation. Good luck with that one, chaps.

Wednesday 5th November at 12.16pm

I felt obliged to send another text to our Superintendent of Electricity for Durban a couple of minutes ago. It read:
Began by targeting neck and shoulder in lounge last night. Now at 12.12pm it includes arm and chest. Please don't feign ignorance. Agent Balliram's Missus home and may account for criminal levels. Fred at No. 12? No idea, only that I would appreciate plug pulled IF YOU CAN. Jane."

LATER at 12.45pm

Sitting here in my corner of the lounge the levels were high enough for me to go orb hunting, and sure enough, the camera picked up the sadist, a bright, pingpong ball of light, high on the ceiling above the window next to me.‪#‎spits‬... I was still busy methodically deleting all the failed shots, when a chirrup rang out from No. 6's remote. I rest my case.
You're still determined it's going to be a better life for ALL? Humbug...
Peace..

Wednesday 5th November 2014 at 1.45pm.

2014-11-07T05:26:00.001-08:00

Human rights?

(begun Tuesday 4th November at 5.45am)

All the spite of thwarted 12 year-olds, and yet, unless I'm very much mistaken, at least one of them is nudging middle-age? Mothers or wives safely in bed asleep by 12.45am?
Someone had barrelled in at that ungodly hour and unleashed the Throat Choker frequency, and I'd duly barked that vicious dry cough until my throat was raw.
By 1.10am the heat in the bedroom was at tropical levels, and it had been a wave of fire to the cancer and several nasty jabs to my temple.

Shortly after 3am I'd raised my arm to check the time and the Kyocera 'bird' nearby had immediately broken the silence with it's 'song'. At 3.40am I'd logged an astonishing display of the Throat Choker, Backfire, butt itch, and burning fingers, all in swift succession, and by 4.30am I was up and about. Understandably I'm finding it hard to believe that you've sacrificed your children for the good of anyone or anything at all.

They know me too well. They'll be aware that I've fallen out of favour with the Rocket Scientist, due I expect, to my growing impatience. Did you ever go check out that mybroadband.co.za link I gave you? Did you read Karl Muller's posts carefully? Did you see for yourselves why the telecom's industry consider that good man to be a real thorn in their side?
Would Toxic Bunny be prepared to answer any of my questions in a civilised manner, or would he continue to demean himself by sounding like a ten year-old brat?

Is he in fact a quantum Area Controller for the Smart City neighbour-spying-upon neighbour Project, somewhere down in the Glenwood area? Has he had his electrical Distribution board adapted to be compliant with the monitoring technology? Has he some sort of transformer attached to the point where his Telkom line feeds into his home?
Does he have Sutcliffe's fibre optic cabling employed to run one of Telkom's Hidden Networks running through the waterlines to his home?
Any windows on his abode fitted with the laser deflecting black mirror glass, or the odd finish that was applied to the windows of the upstairs orphanage at St. Theresa's? Does our poisonous rabbit have a large aircon unit fitted on both sides of his home, facing his neighbour's properties? (Useful for creating those astonishing fake winds).

Would that young man aver that he is not a Controller, but merely a willing link in the quantum surveillance chain? Is his lack of respect for the common man increasing by the day, as the indoctrination cooks what independent thoughts he may once have had? The give-away? His visible and childish contempt towards Karl Muller earns him a Puppet stamp across his forehead, just as I've earned my own Idiot branding.
Last, but never least...
Did the Sales Pitch that TB bought so eagerly from Jannie van Zyl include the fact that he's now a part of some massive Trojan Horse initiative, where he will be expected to play his part until, on some unidentified day in the distant future, the order will be given to rise up en masse against the Rotten and Corrupt?

Did it never occur to our Rabbit that by then he could well be eligible to fit neatly among those Seriously Rotten ranks, himself?
He certainly appears to care for his own dogs, but other animals are fair game for the laser recruits? He'll look the other way as a neighbour's walls are breached and a home invasion carried out? Has TB seen for himself the suffering and illness his invisible visits are causing a nearby target, and yet he continues to follow orders and keep those levels ridiculously high?

In fact, the entire Better Life for All premise is a sick joke, is it not? It's Them and Your Lot, hey Toxic Bunny? And by Them, I would include the likes of the Rocket Scientist, Karl Muller, my own Honourable CPF Vice Chair, and Paul Doyen. Shame.

Peace.

Tuesday 4th November 2014.

2014-11-03T04:49:00.003-08:00

How deep the rot?
(begun Sunday 2nd November at 9.45am.)

Twenty-four hours after I'd bleated in that text to Allen Spence, the GameWrecker had reported that the bread and icecream at the bottom of the deepfreeze was once again frozen solid. The rank stench had disappeared, and was hopefully due to the packets of dog bones we keep down there. (Sophie and Cola won't be calling City Health, no matter how those bones pong).
Am I gratified? Yes and no. Yes, because it's now been verified that the freezer is set up to run at a lower level, merely at the simple tap of a Monitor's computer key, and it's up to us to check the contents regularly.
No, because you couldn't ask for stronger evidence to show that even after a decade of service to the New Age quantum wankers, the mischief-making is set to continue ad nauseum.

LATER at 12.25pm

Our power went off at 12.10pm, and I pulled the wall plugs and came out here to sit on the verandah and chat to you. A cracked silo that subsequently collapsed? Anyone think to provide pics corroborating this latest over-the-top catastrophe? When you consider the number of active lights that I photograph just once a week during the couple of hours I get to go out, you can begin to understand why Eskom and the Munis are having to go the rolling blackout route in an attempt to recoup at least some of the excessive power wastage due to the quantum Project.
It has squat to do with coal or silos, and everything to do with the race to get the entire population linked to the neighbour spying upon neighbour quantum laser technology and the NWO. *waves to Georgie Soros.

Changing the subject - The birds in the valley below are feasting on clouds of flying ants as they rise in the air. I've already remarked previously that for the past couple of years the white ants in our garden haven't reached maturity for whatever reason, but it would seem that whatever the glitch in their environment was, it's been sorted, as they're back to flying in their thousands.

LATER at 7pm

At around ten past six I'd gone up top to check the view. As always the so-called load-shedding appears to be mighty selective, and from Grindrod back into Sydenham they have power. Lights dance on the smart finish on the upstairs orphanage windows at St. Theresa's, and the now regular bedroom window at the supposedly unoccupied DUT student res was burning brightly. However, I'd barely sat down on the top step before that single light had been doused ‪#‎winks‬..

I sent our Al Spence a further text at 6.15pm that read: "Freezer sorted 'itself' after 24 hours, tx. Payback? Power cut at 12.10pm and six hours later no sign of it coming back. Remind me who's running this Project?‪#‎gags‬"

Course our cellphone signals were pretty much wiped out along with the powercut, but I hit Send anyways.

LATER at 7.50pm

The power came back on just five minutes ago, which makes it a 7 and 1/2 hour blackout. A tad extreme, or is the NIA thuggee at No. 6 still trying to get across his peurile bullying message? From toads with their heads neatly sliced off and left in our yard, to these latest games with our freezer's powerfeed, these are the shady characters preferred by the Telecom's Bigwigs and their pals in Government, to act as Area Controllers for the Smart City quantum surveillance project.

Has your youngster been tutored by this morally-bereft bully? You have my sympathies, although it could take a while before you recognize the symptoms of their increasing zombification.

Despite having no power since noon, the laser generated assaults had reached an all time low. Although the power is back on, the Kyocera iBurst modem is back to it's nonsense, and it looks like a call to Bruce Poole of tradepage is in the offing. Our DStv is freezing constantly as well, since the power came back on. Our Agent CrackerJack is going for an even heavier-handed approach?

You may feel free to laugh off my warnings as extreme hyperbole, but never let it be said I didn't give it my best shot.

Peace.

Sunday 2nd November 2014 at 9.11pm

2014-11-03T04:47:00.002-08:00

Days of miracles and wonder..

(begun Friday 31st October at 9.50am)

Text sent to the Superintendent of Electricity for Durban, Allen Spence, at 10.15am this morning: "New chest freezer corrected itself 1 week after delivery and has run sans probs 8th June up until 3 or 4 days ago. Back to square 1, only top 1/2 freezing. Kindly work remote magic pronto. Jane 10.15am." (actually I see now that the problem had corrected itself only at the end of June, a couple of weeks later)

Remember all the drama with our little chest freezer? It was around early May this year, when that formerly trusty appliance had begun behaving badly. Sort of round the same time that our leaking fridge had more or less recovered itself overnight and had miraculously stopped leaking.
Prior to that, when the freezer had needed defrosting, it's four walls would be covered with ice from top to bottom. Only once the fridge had spookily righted itself, (running off a different socket) did the freezer start to ice up on the top half only, and the perishables in the bottom section had done just that, and had perished.

My better half had niavely gone off and purchased a replacement with his rapidly dwindling pension funds. The new freezer had arrived on Friday 23rd May, and by late the next day it was clear it had the identical problem, and nothing was freezing in the bottom half.
Back then I'd sent several texts to our Superintendent of Electricity, Allen Spence, and had expressed my disgust more than once here on my Facebook updates.
The 26th June saw the City Lightz contractors working up Fred Cochran's pole after a cable 'theft', and not long after that, I'd texted Spence to say the freezer was finally operating properly. It hasn't given us a problem since then, that is, until 3 or four days ago... It would seem that we're right back to square one, and that the feed to the bottom section of the little freezer has once again somehow been corrupted.

Is our distribution box Smart City quantum Project compliant? Are you kidding me? We are Other. Unchosen. Worthless dregs of society, regarded as little more than labrats, existing to entertain the quantum laser zombies, and nothing much else.
My old man is already muttering about contacting OK Bazaars and returning their faulty appliance. Do we REALLY have to do this stupid dance again? A dance designed in some way to mollify any of the Project thugs that infest our so-called privacy, who may be more irritated by me than usual?

I'd be obliged if Spence would stick his academic nose out of the belly of the Trojan Horse he lives in, to correct this latest effing nonsense. Who is truly running this show, Al? The powerful connections in Government that the Sparks Estate CPF Chair posted about, or the physics wallahs who introduced this 'perfectly safe' technology to eThekwini?
Either send out someone trustworthy from the Raw Power outfit to make the necessary adjustments to Fred's pole, or it will be yet further confirmation that the SA population are being taken for a ride on an unimaginable scale.

I'd been sweeping the garage at 8.45am this morning when I saw the toppie wandering down the pavement. Age? Maybe late fifties, early sixties, and probably holed up at Findlay Hall. Retired old school EE, doing his bit for the quantum Project? What was he up to? Checking for hot-spots perhaps? Seriously? Should I feel reassured? If there's any attempt being made to paint this operation as anything other than corruption-riddled, it's a FAIL.

Bump, bump, bumpety, bump - look at Frosty go...
bump, bump, bumpety, bump - over the hills of snow... Where are you‪#‎Investigator247‬? Still miraculously, your own man? Come out, come out, wherever you are....
Peace.

Friday 31st October 2014 at 11.26am.

2014-10-29T12:26:00.006-07:00

Unholy Alliance?
(begun Tuesday 28th October at 10am)

You will never be one of us? What sort of a message was that, FFS? Truth be told, I took it as a compliment, and kindly Unfriended you.
A special Friend of the Chirpster's, perhaps? I seem to recall noting how you dogged his posts on Facebook, and I'd wondered at the time whether you were there in an advisory capacity, or merely as an Observer.

Has Karl Muller already been sold a version of the quantum laser/wifi Sales Pitch? Am I too late? Some sort of romantic tale that has Good ultimately triumphing over Evil? A story that will end as all the other variations do, with the party line, that although it will take decades to achieve, the sooner you support the Glorious Cause, the better?
That's basically all those powerful shadowy bliksems need, is it not? Time.
To give you just enough to enchant you, and then to keep moving the goalposts until every man Jack is on the quantum Chain, and may be controlled at the tap of a key?

Has Karl been fed the line that our Government introduced this astonishing surveillance technology (originally obtained from the CIA), but that they're using it for their own wicked gain, and that is the reason the country is now falling apart? That the only means of saving the day lies in the hands of the good people in the Opposition? *collapses choking.
Surely Muller would see through that bullshit straight away, and cry foul from the rooftops?
The destruction being caused to the environment alone should surely give him pause for thought, never mind the physical toll it's taking on the population around the globe.
For anyone, purporting to be good, to sit back silently and knowingly allow this gigantic violation of human rights to continue, puts them firmly in the camp of the Brainwashed, no matter what lies they've fallen for.

I'm doing good work? I believe your smackdowns and hastily added uplift may be referred to as some sort of Carnegie Sandwich, and sadly, it did little for my confidence, or my lack thereof.
In the early years, your associates would feed me rubbish and fall about as I trotted it out, and struggled to make sense of what was happening to us. Only once I'd learned to mistrust EVERYONE, had I begun making any headway at all, as laboured as it was. Would I be presumptuous in saying that I've lost my amusement factor, and that both camps now find me to be a pain in the arse?
After all, I've only the severity and nature of the ongoing physical assaults to go by, and the clear indication that no-one is going to pull the plug on the sad zombified lot who have been given such easy access to our lives.
That neither I, nor my poor recently recruited friends can anticipate that the cruelty and mischief will be stopped anytime soon. Tough titty, right?

I was sat out here on the verandah at daybreak this morning, when I was suddenly filled with an almost chest-bursting sense of what? Joy? Gratefulness? I dunno, but whatever it was, it was pretty darned good. It may well have been a sudden burst of the Euphoria frequency that caused that sheer unadulterated happiness. A frequency that can be minutely adjusted to fling you into the darkest despair, and incapacitate you for weeks. How would I know?
Sure, I write of the unspeakable, but that doesn't prevent me from appreciating everything around me, to the nth degree. I'm the lucky one, and I know it.

Peace.

Wednesday 29th October 2014 at 6.53am.

2014-10-28T09:14:00.001-07:00

Zombies?
(begun Tuesday 28th October at 7.15am)

Anyone else waking in the dead of night to experience jabbing pains to their wrists/hands/fingers? Severe pins-and-needles perhaps? I'd hazard it was the very first of the exquisite tortures that our Project Area Controller had employed upon us, soon after he'd been handed control over the powerlines on this stretch, by Sutcliffe's Superintendent of Electricity for Durban, Allen Spence, and probably one of the first lessons now being taught to the upcoming young quantum laser cadets across the country.

It must have been around 2.30am this morning when they'd come on in and set my hand ablaze. Hardly any of the usual preliminary build-up, just a 'whoomp!' and there I was, on fire. If I'd been able to have true readings taken during that vicious onslaught, of my white blood cell count, and a scan done on that burning hand, would it have shown my cartilage actually bubbling at the time? ‪#‎curious‬ Exaggeration, Madam? Hardly.
Would Fred Cochrane check his logs and see who was on Telkom's hidden Sherwood Network and in ours, between 2 and 3am this morning? It doesn't work like that, Freddie?
Any of the quantum recruits may use the Network anytime they choose, and you cannot be expected to keep track of them? Rubbish.

This morning's exercise in perverted sadism had all the hallmarks of a payback enterprise. Payback for what, exactly? My latest Facebook picture, and the one I'd added later? What's the problem FFS? It's hardly likely that those wonderful young adults at No. 14 would risk showing their papa those pics, now is it? As I recall, at the time those pictures were taken, the Plumber had been blessed with three large contracts, ensuring that he was run off his feet, and seldom managed to make it home during the day.
Thereby ensuring that the corruption to the waterlines in the road outside of his property could be completed without him asking awkward questions?
Once his offspring were subsequently (and expediently) recruited to the quantum Smart City Project, it's hoped that someone knowledgeable had been tasked to field any questions he might have had.. Cool.

To my delight I found Karl Muller on the mybroadband.co.za site this morning, tucked away in the obscure Health, Wealth, Leisure & Relationships forum. This link:
http://mybroadband.co.za/vb/showthread.php/653190-Former-Nokia-CTO-Mobile-phones-wrecked-my-health. is unlikely to work, but it would be great if you could go search for the relevant thread yourselves. It's titled: ' Former Nokia CTO: Mobile phones wrecked my health'. and it's well worth a read.
Muller speaks of the spectacular increase in ADHD and autism amongst the children in this country, rendering them to a near zombie-like state.

Was this always to be a part of your superior's Master Plan, Mister van Zyl? *checks out the vodacom Strategist. Once the numbers were deemed suitable, to then start introducing the quantum laser/wifi Project to these unfortunate kids, and enrolling them to this New Age technological army, where they could be easily manipulated and encouraged to terrorise the masses of Unchosen?

Peace.

Tuesday 28th October 2014 at 8.14am.

2014-10-28T09:12:00.005-07:00

Rotten.
(begun Monday 27th October at 5am)

I stink. As I sit here scribbling at the desk, I reek of eau de cancer, and you really want to keep your distance or gag. Nothing new at all, as I'd been forced to begin bathing and changing my dressing twice a day for that very reason, some years back. And then, about three or four months ago, some sort of miracle had happened, and that gross squamous cell cancer had appeared to seal itself up and had stopped weeping and bleeding pretty much altogether.
We'd been driving out of Caxtons one Thursday a month or so back, and I remember turning to the old man and saying that I no longer needed more than one dressing or bath a day, as my cancer was at last behaving as I imagine it should've been all along.

Course, whoever was tracking us at the time would've recorded that snippet and it was unsurprisingly used against me with alacrity. It's the weather? It's understandable that it's going to react badly to the warmer weather? Gimme a break here guys. I've lived with this self-inflicted disfigurement for a decade or more, and I'll be the judge of how it behaves, if you don't mind.
There were plenty of days during our most recent so-called winter that the temperature had crept up into the thirties, and yet the Abomination had stayed well-behaved and clean.

They're going about it a little differently now, but the results must surely have the vodacom Strategist ecstatic with delight. Rewarded, Agent Balliram? Another jetski? A beach cottage in Mauritius? Man, I know you'd be okay working for absolutely nothing, as it's the thrill of inflicting pain that feeds your addiction.
I'll go lie in a hot bath sometime between 4 and 5 pm each day, and pat the monstrosity dry before applying a fresh dressing. No - don't turn away, it's bloody fascinating, albeit a tad disgusting.
Within an hour or so after that, I can now actually FEEL the dressing growing soggier by the minute, and there's a definite pattern beginning to emerge.
The stench had been so noxious yesterday morning that I'd resorted to changing the dressing early on. When I'd finally come to bathe as usual yesterday afternoon, apart from a few self-inflicted blood spots, that dressing had been dry. Hau!!!
Right. So we've established that whatever my Attackers are using to have re-instated this particular misery, it's being concentrated to the late afternoon and overnight, and there's no question about it.

Everyone reacts differently to over-exposure by electromagnetic radiation, as can be seen visibly on Mike Oliver of the Muni's electricity security Division, and on THIS Telkom tech up our phone pole in the valley.
I guess Mikey may have had that thing cut off his forehead by now, and I'd be interested to know when it had first arrived. I'd have to bet it was only after he'd begun working with the quantum laser/wireless technology around 2003/4?

Paul Doyen of The Microwave Factor website had only recently casually mentioned in a mail that he'd had several cysts removed, and of course that makes sense, as he's an enemy of the telecom's industry and he's currently being hounded across the globe for his sins..
Our own voice of reason, Karl Muller the Rocket Scientist? Was he spirited away to what he imagined was a relatively safe haven? To what end, when it's glaringly obvious that van Zyl and his cohorts are watching that good man 24/7? Is he being manipulated to speak out on behalf of the so-called Good Guys in this ghastly world take-over? Unknowingly used to reassure the anxious that there are Seriously Good academics out there who are working towards change for the better? Is Karl, like Paul Doyen, still unfamiliar with the neighbour spying upon neighbour quantum laser technology, and you'd prefer to keep it that way?

It's all about body temperature, is it not? My attackers increase those levels each night once I've nodded off, and they've learned not to wake me for the most part. My hair is growing as fast as ever (including on my ugly mug) and I have pockets of sebacious oil all over, and like I said, the Abomination does nearly all of it's copious weeping overnight, when it's under increased and deliberate attack.
Any point in my saying ek maak mos sterk beswaar? Probably not. Not when someone you trust finally tells you that you're neither innocent nor a victim. Eish.

I'd been bumbling about the kitchen yesterday at 12.20pm, when one of my Monitors had let loose a flurry of knives to my eardrum without any warning whatsoever. At 5.45pm I'd been sitting in front of the telly when that excrutiating exercise had been repeated. Our top quantum laser Agent has already pretty much destroyed the hearing in one ear, and appears to be targeting the other with a will. Like I said, my dear GP had admitted he had no idea what was causing those intermittent knife-like pains, and that outwardly my ears appeared to be fine.
What's my point? If you've begun developing cysts, or enduring occasional stabbing pains to your eardrums then FFS speak out to everyone you encounter, and chances are you'll begin to find that you're far from alone.

What is it that's being run in our home, Jannie? Now that Kindle has shown us unequivocably to be a hotspot? Is it 3G, as google would have the GameWrecker believe, or is it the dodgy 4G that the MastFighter insists is REALLY bad for the collective health of the population? Is that what's going on here now? We're 'trialling' the infamous 4G technology, on top of being a Learner Hub for the quantum laser students? Should I consider this to be an honour, or is it a further breach of human rights that's particularly foul, even for your lot?
Have a magnificent day julle.
Peace

Monday 27th October 2014 at 6.43am.

2014-10-28T09:11:00.001-07:00

Rocketman?
(begun Tuesday 21st October at 7.25am)

Oh dear. I've offended you again? It sets your pearly-whites on edge when I tar you all with the same foul brush that paints the quantum Warriors in our neck of the woods? What makes you any different, pray tell? A University education and a priviliged upbringing? Pfft..
From the glimpses I've seen of your behind-the-scenes comments, your veneer of respectibility is just that.. A thinly-veiled coat of varnish designed to fool the as-yet Unchosen. Yours are certainly not the only snippets of truth I've accidentally seen on my computer screen over the years, as my Network 'Administrator' has fumbled several times in his management of our computer, revealing the quantum hackers comfortably ensconced on our PC, derisively chatting about my struggles online.
So ja - You'll have to forgive me if I tend to lump you all together in one sorry basket of fabrication and falsehood, despite that you see yourselves very differently.

Wednesday 22nd October at 9.35am

The GameWrecker had picked up the phone yesterday afternoon, only to say there was no-one the other end. The second or third such call in the past couple of days, only this time I suspect it was the one that had deliberately terminated our landline. It was deader than a dodo when I'd come to use it this morning, so he'd sent a text to Faults and had a Reference number in response.

Been having shoulder problems this past week or so? I recall how dear Basil had suffered down at No.4, in just that area, and I now find that the Honourable Man has been enduring similar pain and discomfort. Woken brutally at 4am this morning to a concentrated assault on his already aching shoulder joint, he'd described the pain as anything but normal. Someone in a rush to inflict as much damage to that soft tissue as possible, and caution be damned? ‪#‎passthebucket‬

Which of the quantum Recruits was present in my VC's bedroom at 4am this morning, Agent Balliram? You'd have us believe you no longer keep the schedules, and that I'm to ask young Freddie Cochrane for that information?
Pull the other one, CrackerJack! You have a personal interest in everything that takes place in and out of that property on Abrey, and it would be pointless denying it.

Let wel julle. It matters not whether you or a family member are officially on board the Smart City quantum/wireless neighbour spying upon neighbour operation.
Do I think for one minute that the occupants of Nos. 33, 17, and 5 Harris Crescent are now exempt from the assaults we endure in ours?
I do not.
Although it was considered expedient at the time to finally recruit those latecomers, they will continue to be treated with the utmost contempt by my Owner and his nearby bumchums.
I understand that No 33 has a really painful neck thats needed attention? Near enough to her shoulder joint to interest me. Now if our landline hadn't gone down and I'd called Nos 17 and 5 to ask whether any of those occupants are experiencing neck or shoulder pains, what would their answer be?

After catching up with my Vice Chair on the cellphone earlier, I'd relayed the conversation to the GameWrecker, who'd immediately said that he'd woken yesterday morning with a painful shoulder that continued to ache today. Coincidence? Bah, fekking HUMBUG!!

Missus Balliram had called our landline yesterday, (just prior to the second and last call with nobody the other end, that had appeared to kill the phone), to inform us they'd be partying next door tomorrow. I'm happy for them, and can only hope the Poor Sod sets aside his vicious spite and doesn't issue orders to his lackeys to continue making our lives miserable during the festivities...

It's now 10.55am and here's a quick update to say that the dogs had gone nuts about half an hour ago, and we'd gone out front to find a tech up the pole between us and No. 6. I'd snapped you some pics which you'll have to wait for, but it turned out to be the same guy whose photo I already have. Would Devan Pillay from Telkom Overport recognize the dude, or is he attached to a special unit of sorts? ‪#‎interested‬... My old man said this visit wouldn't be in response to his Fault report, so what the chap is doing down there is in question. The white wireless box is hanging down against the pole and the bloke appears to be working on the parcel of wires that were in it's innards... I've tried our phone and it remains dead.
Peace.

Wednesday 22nd October 2014 at 11am.

2014-10-28T09:09:00.004-07:00

A song and dance?
(begun Sunday 19th October at 5.30am)

At 4am the Kyocera bird had called out nearby, and the first two fingers and thumb on my right hand had begun to burn.
By 4.45am I'd been logging the ongoing assault on the pad next to my bed when I swear the levels had been even more savagely increased, and I'd suggested aloud that my attacker should see someone about their problem. (Some sort of counselling for Haters?)
Could my hand and wrist actually spontaneously combust, as the writing on that envelope hooked under our gate had suggested, or is it merely causing more cartilage to burn away, as has been done to my left hand already?

Perfectly safe, Professor Roux? I figure in the five years since your tongue-in-cheek piece appeared in Popular Mechanics (Tangling with Telecoms, July 2011, SA issue), even you would have to admit that the quantum laser/wireless technology is an astonishingly powerful and deadly weapon, made all the more so by the inability for the average layman to prove it's very existence, or the fact that it's decimating the population. Course, it might be a different story altogether were the man in the street to have access to such things as electromagnetic field meters, and be given instruction on how to read them, but that ain't about to happen.

Do us a favour folks. If you've taken the time to do more than just click Like on this update, and to actually read it, then start talking to everyone you know. Talk about the strange flu-like symptoms you keep encountering, and the increased aches and pains that seem to be exacerbated after dark.
Talk about your 'Carpal Tunnel syndrome' (hah!), and the knee replacement you may soon need. Talk about the ringing in your ears, and that dry cough that's so spasmodically violent it can cause you to nearly blackout on occasion. The way your heart races or thuds at times, for no apparent reason, or knives of pain jab at your eardrums.

I've no idea whether there's safety in numbers, but I do believe that you would be astonished by the amount of people in your own area who are enduring similar odd and inexplicable symptoms to yours. Who knows but that your sharing with each other openly may lead to your quantum Project Area Controller having to lower the levels they're employing, or risk raising the alarm among the sheeples they wish to cull and control.

I've been feeding the solitary bull monkey that appears to have been ostracised from his troop, for some time. Tossing the fruit and bread up onto the first terrace out of harm's way. He hadn't managed to attract our attention yesterday afternoon as I'd napped in front of the telly, and the old man played about on the PC, so he'd taken himself into the kitchen and had found the fruitbowl on top of the fridge, and the bag of dog biscuits. It must have been when he'd dropped the glass bottle of peanuts in disgust that our two yappers finally heard him and went noisily to investigate. I've subsequently put all the stuff lying around into a Pick n Pay cold bag and zipped it closed out of sight. Serves me right, and we'll have to be a tad sharper today, or the poor chap's desperate raids could get to
be a habit. Good luck out there, and have a wonderful day. Peace.

Sunday 19th October 2014 at 7.06am.

2014-10-18T10:08:00.001-07:00

The crock at the end of this rainbow.
(begun Saturday 18th October at 5.30am)

Any of you fine quantum soldiers remember the first time your Tutor demonstrated the Crotch Scratcher? How to target your quarry remotely, just so, to cause such an overwhelming itch as to have them scratching frantically, resulting in gales of mirth from their invisible Watchers? Quarry isn't quite the right word of course, as it's more like shooting ducks in a barrel, trapped as they are in their own homes, and within easy reach of you and your peers in every corner of their house. Ahh.. those were the fun days, right?

When he'd break the monotonous boredom of a monitoring shift with all manner of amusing games.. And now it's your kid's turn to learn the ropes, is it not?
The fruit of your loins, who you've been assured will lead the charge into the Brave New World that lies beyond. You would've introduced them to the quantum laser program ever so gradually. Allowed them to look at your screen when the target was sitting quietly in front of the telly, or snoring in their bed... After all, you didn't want to gross them out before they'd even got the hang of it.
Once they'd had the basic idea of what was involved, it's possible they were sent on some sort of course to be properly brainwashed, away from your beady eyes? Electron House down in Springfield perhaps?

At what age do they recommend you get your kids involved? Fourteen, if they show an aptitude for computer games? Then, if they're quick learners, by the time they're 16 or even younger, they're ready to join a neighbourhood pod and go rampaging across the airwaves and into the homes of the Unchosen, to hone their skills?
Do you celebrate that rite of passage? Once your darlings have mastered the art of hacking into nearby homes, and had the basic lessons using the quantum laser computer program? A special cake? A trip to McDonald's?‪#‎bucket‬

There's a unity and bond among these fine Rainbow Warriors? Hell no, don't give me that kak. The ranks are as divided on the airwaves as they are among the ignorant unwashed masses on the ground. Depending on their individual character assessment there are those that will gleefully join their Tutor long after the majority are sound asleep in their beds, and they'll spend many a happy hour targeting defenseless animals across the suburbs, or accessing the homes of designated targets to cause them more pain and suffering. Your well-brought up kids would NEVER? Really? How the f*ck would you know?
Do you seriously think you share such a close bond with them that they'd tell you instantly if they became involved in anything unpleasant on their monitoring sessions?
Why, if they truly adore you, would they burden you with more stress than you already have?

That's pretty much how it works, right, Janneman? And no Stephen, it doesn't impress me to hear that the quantum technology was used successfully to net a stash of drugs worth millions. Double that amount of banned substances are probably being unloaded for distribution at Durban Harbour as I scribble here in the deliciously chill morning wind.
It's not the drugs or the criminals that the Project Planners are after. Its the bodies and souls of the youthful masses that they're hunting down, and they're doing a fine job of it so far.
The sleight of hand used by the more skilled of the Damage Controllers will ensure that these young cadets will believe pretty much anything that's suggested to them. Besides, their parents set them a fine example by buying into this crock in the first place, did they not?
Peace.

Saturday 18th October 2014 at 7.35am.

2014-10-18T10:06:00.001-07:00

Ignition.
(begun Friday 17th October at 8.20am)

May I ask you something? How is there a difference between Oscar Pistorius and the Telecom's Industry's most protected quantum laser Area Controller, Collin P. Balliram?
Despite the overwhelming evidence in Oscar's case, he will no doubt end up with little more than a slap on the wrist, and I'd not be surprised were he to re-offend sometime in the future.
My Master's rages are every bit as destructive as those of the Blade Runner, and yet he will never be forced to face a court and be judged.

How loud had those hoots of disbelief and derision been, when I'd speculated that the architect Richard Johnson's harrowing ordeal down at Prospecton had been a carefully planned and timed set-up? I very much doubt that there's a Visitor's Register down at the Airwing Base at Louis Botha, and even if there were such a thing, it's a given that the Operatives involved wouldn't have signed in.

We'd been driving up Cowies Hill on the third occasion that the Polo's battery had been targeted remotely, and out of the blue the car's engine had begun faltering. Had we just passed some sort of hidden mini base station or mast, that had been employed for that operation? Our Trackers had as always been following our conversation in the Polo, and would have easily had sufficient time to set up ahead of our passing a chosen point. As luck would have it, we'd turned around and had managed to limp home safely.

Alpine in Pinetown had subsequently said it had been another of the 4 ignition coils that had burned out. Whether those coils are being tampered with at whichever Agents you employ for your vehicle's service or repairs, is unknown. But the good guy at Alpine had told the GameWrecker it was a most uncommon fault to have occurred, on the first occasion that it had happened. (Stranded out at Makro on Edwin Swales after dark, on that occasion, was he not, Balliram?)
You think I'm kidding when I say I'd bet good money that it was an identical scenario employed upon the Architect as he headed back from Prospecton, and that had his vehicle not been so timeously stripped during his absence, at least one of those ignition coils would've been found to be cooked?

Wild speculation? Any visiting CIA agents down at the Airwing offices that day, or had that been a totally local demonstration of what can be achieved by the wonders of this sophisticated wireless weaponry? It's doubtful whether Mr. Johnson would recollect whether the streetlights had been active at the time, daylight or not, but you can bet that at least some of them were.
There was never the intention to do more than have the man roughed up and frightened? I've a problem believing that one quite frankly, and I think he was damned lucky to have walked away in one piece.

Were Ms. Allopi and her equally shady collegues in Town Planning impressed? Those crooks should avoid becoming complacent at all costs. There's a war going on out there over the airwaves, and things can change in an instant. Who knows whose turn it could be next, to provide entertainment for the quantum Army recruits and their overseers...
If you're fortunate to be numbered among the Blessed Chosen, godwilling you'll have a rough idea of how to avoid 'crossing' some imaginary line known only to the quantum laser Guardians, or 'trespassing', and incurring the wrath of your Peers as a result.
Self-acknowledged fools such as I, can only sit and marvel at the double standards employed by a quantum laser Rule book that's certainly not available to lowly labrats and the like..

The fact that we've had our freedom totally removed, doesn't appear to matter to anyone at all. Sure, we're all pretty much in the same boat now anyway, only of course, many like us will be made to suffer for our perceived sins. I'm guilty? I'd be most obliged if you'd read out the charges, and I would certainly acknowledge that I had resorted to provocation on occasion, in a foolish attempt to get the Sadistic quantum Area Controller to out himself by his own behaviour, and have him removed from his post. What was I thinking??? I would hope that any other charges levelled against me are of a standard deserving the shocking ongoing physical abuse that continues to be meted out on a daily basis.

Even as I scribbled those words there came an ache to my jaw and the new Donkey-kick to my side was resumed, while my cancer began to simmer again. How many courageous quantum Protectors are being deployed against one mouthy old fart like myself, when they should surely be out there making the world a better place? Getting rid of me will achieve just that, Janneman? Really? Pfft..
Peace.

Friday 17th October 2014 at 3.19pm.

2014-10-18T10:04:00.001-07:00

The wrong hands.
(begun Thursday 16th October at 5.45am)

I know exactly what I must sound like to any of the second-generation quantum recruits who've been allowed to sit in on the Graveyard Shifts in ours. A cranky old oxygen thief, guaranteed to entertain with her constant enraged mutterings.
I've kept a log of each and every assault that woke me overnight. You're interested? What intrigues me the most is which of those brainwashed monkeys thought it would be hilarious to touch me up, in between jabbing away at me so painfully?

Who was it that had amused themselves administering pain and then pleasure, quite so blatantly, and had nogal appeared to find the results to be funny? Shall we ask the Poor Sod who it was that was present in my bedroom overnight? Would you anticipate anything remotely resembling the truth, in reply?
The sad fellow's Beemer was back on the driveway next door by the time I'd climbed out of the bath and dressed yesterday afternoon, and it wasn't long after that, it seemed he was hell-bent on making up for lost time.
I'd acquired a donkey-kick to my side (something new?) that had persisted right up until bedtime, at the most unpleasant levels imaginable.

Clearly not content with that, he'd gone on to flood me with the Throat Choker frquency and I'd lain there barking endlessly. It had been after one such coughing session at 2.15am, when I found I could actually FEEL someone enable that feather to the throat sensation, and I'd lost the plot and told them to piss off in no uncertain terms. I hadn't coughed again after that. At 3am a bunch of hadedas had called out in the dark valley, and my hand had immediately flickered into flames.

You've sat willingly and allowed your fellow Recruits to experiment with these levels of pain on your own person? Really? Then HowTF DARE you accuse me of hyperbole? I swear you appear to have taken the easy route and CHOSEN to believe that the agonies we targets endure at the hands of your peers are nowhere near the levels of pain I describe, and that they are harmless to boot.

LATER at 8.10am

It's most frustrating being unable to transfer my latest photos to the computer for fear the nearby Recruits will succumb to the urge to corrupt the memory card, so I'll just have to wait till my kid brings her laptop down on the next visit.

I managed to catch the rather stunning sunrise earlier this morning, and purely by chance I had turned to face Howard College (UKZN) down south, only to find the entire area below that establishment was under a white-out. You will eventually get to see it for yourselves, and could possibly explain why there was not so much as a hint of similar fog/mist in the valley below us at the time. There's a logical explanation for that oddness? Cool, I'll be glad to hear it.

Any metal fillings in your mouth? As you go about your business round the house, have you encountered any sudden eye-watering shrieks from those tiny lumps of metal on your teeth? Any jabs of pain to your jaw, or ache to your gums and ears, and yet your dentist can't find the cause for love nor money? Wireless.

What was the spiel way back in the beginning, Mr. van Zyl? To simply come out with it and lay the Glorious Plan openly at the feet of the nation would've caused panic and outrage for sure. Instead, your Superiors had begun a whispered campaign into the ears of the Seriously Rotten, who'd no problem at all with the concept of thieving the common-man's privacy, and using the sophisticated quantum laser surveillance technology to engineer a tsunami of crime, in order to cow the population into submissive acceptance of this fantabulous new age technology. It followed that it was a simple matter to enchant the academics and intellectuals with a version that painted a picture of a better world for all, and the few if any who might have smelled a rat would have been silenced, one way or another, with ease..

LATER at 1.52pm

I'd been curled up in front of the telly at 1.25pm, thinking I'd sneak in a nap. My Monitors had other ideas, and it wasn't long before the Throat choker was unleashed, and I began that irritating spasmodic dry barking. My cranky remarks in response had earned me a blast of the Carey Colon frequency. Frederick? Who's on this arvo? That gross weapon is one of Agent Balliram's faves, but I don't see the Beemer, so that leaves .....? The progeny? Your devout self? Pass the bucket please.
Peace..

Thursday 16th October 2014 at 2.02pm.

2014-10-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

Shiny happy people.
(begun Tuesday 14th October at 11.25am)

I'd been perched out here at 5.14am just prior to sunrise, when I'd noticed it heading up from the south west. A fuzzy dragon's head in front, towing a long horizontal tail behind it. Cirrus? It had held it's shape perfectly, and was moving at a fair pace heading north east, so I'd fetched the binocs but could see nothing resembling an aircraft that could be creating that effect.
I took a pic for you but you'll have the usual wait to see it.
By 8.30am I'd been working up on the terraces, and there'd been another one, this time heading out of the west toward the ocean. Loads of big fluffy clouds were in the air by that time, but that darned horizontal line kept going steadily behind them, and by 9.02am I caught it HERE, where it appeared to have veered left, and was heading up way above and parallel to North Ridge Road to the north east. Anyone care to spill the beans on the connection between the games being played up at high altitude, and those carried out much nearer the ground via the airwaves?

LATER at 2.05pm

The power went off at 9.20am this morning, and has just been restored in a civilised manner.
A collaboration would suggest that all parties concerned know what they're doing and are working together towards a common goal, right? What's wrong with that picture? I certainly have no goal other than to plead that you remove your blinkers, and that's highly unlikely to happen, as I awoke way too late to make any difference at all..
Sitting here scrunched in my perspex box, I toss out bucketloads of surmise, supposition and guesswork. Oh - and there's a shitload of circumstantial evidence as well, though a fat lot of good that does. All in vain I fear, as this express train picks up speed and thunders on into the New Age to a fate that may or may not be quite what you've been anticipating.

Wednesday 15th October at 11.30am

I've just scuttled indoors as big fat drops of rain start falling. Promising? We'll have to wait and see.

Any of you visited your GP's about the ringing noise in your ears that's developed within the last few years? He's diagnosed tinnitis for want of anything better? Did you know that one of the symptoms consistently given as caused by over-exposure to EMF (electro magnetic frequencies) is a whine/ringing sound in your ears? Mine had arrived in 2005, along with the quantum laser/wifi technology, and a great deal of nausea, and these days I barely notice that shrill whine, unless there's a sudden drastic change to the airwaves, and it either drops or rises dramatically.

Has it affected my hearing? Funnily enough, I don't think so. It's been the direct laser attacks to my inner ear that have caused that particular damage, and have killed off my ability to hear certain frequencies and has muffled others.. Strange, erratic jabs deep inside my ears that would come and go, and I'd spoken to dear Sheldon about it. He'd had a good look and had said that apart from a very slight redness/inflammation, my ears were clear, although he couldn't explain those random jabs of pain. My increasing loss of hearing was put down to my age as a result. You want to think about that.

I've told you in the past of a particularly bad Graveyard Shift session when the laser recruits had been going hammer and tongs at an area on my lower back, and how the GameWrecker had pronounced the next morning that there was a reddish tender-looking patch in that precise area.
Do you have ANY idea how prolonged and vicious an assault must be, to actually leave any mark at all? A steady stream of ultra-short beams remotely delivered and aimed with serious intent to do mischief...
Hyperbole, Madam? I wish.

If I could only begin to impress upon you the sheer scale of this world-wide operation, and how every possible aspect has been covered by the Privacy Thieves. The downright systematic hounding by the telecom's giants of the few articulate voices calling for an end to the madness of unregulated mast emissions, and silencing their efforts to warn the world of impending disaster as a result.
Olle Johannsen (sp) is clearly not considered suitable material for the New World Order, and as such is beginning to feel the pressure, once again from a University that would've been sold on the eerie quantum laser/wifi surveillance technology.

Kidney weed? My garden is now rampant with the stuff, and there's no getting rid of it. Most certainly it arrived by hand, along with so much of the other interesting stuff that's popped up so astonishingly during the past two or three years. I finally identified it on google, and I see that it's common to Oz and Europe, so you want to ask yourselves WTF it's doing in my garden, never mind yours.
I believe I've told you previously of how those tiny ever-so-slightly cupped leaves retain the overnight moisture and glitter like beds of diamonds long after sunrise, and everything else has dried out. A most useful guide for the laser recruits, if truth be told. ‪#‎winks‬

The sky? It's your loss if you persist in keeping your gaze at eye-level, for there are astonishing things happening up there, and you should be recording them as best you can. By all means avoid the pesky truth-tellers like myself, and surround yourself with shiny happy people, though in the process there's a chance you might lose the real you, and become the obedient cabbage so desired by those behind the New World Order.
Peace.

Wednesday 15th October 2014 at 3.24pm.

2014-10-18T09:59:00.005-07:00

Flying blind.
(begun Tuesday 14th October at 9.20am)

Geezelouise! You've gotta laugh. I'd opened the Facebook Chat option at least three times this morning, before I'd remembered having saved that conversation to Word, so I really can't blame anyone for tossing the stalker label my way.
I'd felt the urge to remind myself that apparently I'm neither innocent, nor am I a victim, and to try and make sense of those words. I'm as keen as mustard to accept that it's the truth, but right now I'm still drawing a blank as to which areas that statement referred to. It'll come to me, but I can't be rushed, dimwit that I am...

Any idea who did your character assessment before you were approached and offered a quantum Sales Pitch tailored to fit your personality? One of your teachers at High School, who moonlights as a quantum laser Monitor, and has Psyche 101 under their belt? One of the Deacons at your church? Your boyfriend? A fellow-student in your Physics class at Uni, or Francesco himself?
There's a pitch been designed to cover pretty much everyone, not so, Jannie?
From the Druglords like Agliotti, Barnabas, and Rassool, who would've leapt slavering at the opportunity to become mini gods, to the Seriously Devout here in Sydenham, no matter what their religion.

You're not averse to mischief-making, and believe that honesty and integrity are seriously overrated? Fear not - the New Age quantum Planners have just the niche for you. Your lack of compassion and sadistic streak might hold you back? Hardly. I'd bet that to this day the majority of you continue to regard my allegations against my Owner as highly dramatised and exaggerated lies? Yes? Don't forgodsakes bother to ask yourselves what would be the point of my fabricating any single part of my life, when it's under the microscope 24/7.

Is there anyone among the local Elite who's been subjected to going on a decade of similar experiences at the hands of a rabid quantum Area Controller and his pack of student/graduate devotees? No? What you have instead, is the pleasant Leonard Els, saying in amusement that several of the quantum laser students up at the UKZN Physics Department had complained of pains in their knees during their lab sessions, and that's about it.
Young Stephen Clark certainly appears to have sacrificed a knee to the Cause, as you well know. Nope. Not due to his sometimes sedentary work, or his diet or his genes. Did he not wake frequently in the night to find the quantum elves jabbing away at that area? Or sitting in his office in front of his computer, would those knife-like pains not recur every now and then? Culminating in the destruction of the soft tissue, and forcing him to have an op?

There's a pattern becoming clearer by the day, and it's filling in some more of the many gaps in this fascinating puzzle.
When the determinedly cheerful clean-up crew had waded in on Facebook recently and had seemingly sunk to a fair amount of crass bullying, was I disappointed? These are members of what I suspect are the so-called Good Team folks, and I figure if anything I was embarrassed for them.
As fate would have it, a similar thread was posted on their home turf not long afterwards, although oddly enough, the culprits were rather more reticent in their comments on that occasion.

Are such tactics resorted to, simply to prove to their Elite progeny that they are totally committed to the quantum Cause? A forced jolliness, barely concealing the anxiety beneath, as they urge you to ignore the harsh realities of life completely, and pounce on you, should anything like the truth be raised? While I can only applaud their efforts, I confess to be taken aback by their unkindness, shown on more than one occasion.
Speaking as one who's employed a savage and thoughtless tongue for the better part of her life, and who is now scrambling to make amends, you'll perhaps allow that I'm in a position to recognize the impatience and arrogance that is being nurtured in your precious offspring since their recruitment. May the likes of the beauteous moon and godsmessenger at least TRY and remember to be kind, however much the petty lives and short-sightedness of their targets irritate them.
Peace.

Tuesday 14th October 2014 at 3.54pm

2014-10-18T09:58:00.000-07:00

Constructive criticism?
(begun Sunday 12th October at 5.40am)

Dragon's breath? Are you kidding me? I'm out here on the verandah, a few minutes off sunrise, and my breath is puffing out in a cloud, and yet it's surely way too warm for that phenomenon to occur? Was that a bank of genuine mist down in the valley ten minutes ago? I certainly caught no whiff of a bushdweller's campfire, so...? It looks set to climb up to the thirties today, so you'll forgive me for finding this odd. Such magic in the air...

Do his graduates regard him fondly as some sort of new Messiah for having taught them to employ the quantum laser technology to invade and control their neighbour's lives? Does he tell his Class to go out there and make a difference, and to have fun doing it? Pass the bucket if you would.
Do I sound bitter on this beautiful Sunday morning? A sense-of-humour failure perhaps? Would you care to share the pinch that kicked in to my lower back as I was sitting on the edge of my bed earlier?
How long has it taken the quantum laser elves to achieve that level of discomfort? To sit there and fire their weapons at that precise area repeatedly and with malice, to the extent that the simple tap of a key can now reduce me to a shuffling wreck? Pefecly safe, Francesco? Maybe in the right hands this could've turned things around for the better, but that was never the Project Planner's intention.

LATER Sunday at 7.50am.

Alas, I've just scuttled offline with my tail deservedly tucked between my legs.. There's nothing like a few home truths to put me in my place, hey Mistuh van Zyl? Did that Facebook Chat exchange absolutely make your day? Thunderous applause ringing through the Halls of the Wikked? You betcha.
I've always maintained that I stand on shaky ground, and the last half hour has certainly confirmed it, has it not?

Surrounded as I am by brainwashed quantum graduates for going on a decade, and subjected with others to the most appalling physical abuse, I was always bound to single out the handful I could trust and elevate them to ridiculous levels. The mark of a gibbering Idiot. Hyperbole? I'd kill to be able to write using McCormack's sparsely brutal prose, but instead I'm stuck with writing how I think, in wordy, florid, and ambiguously laboured spurts. Monologues that I now find have offended even the Seriously Good.

Shall I spend this lovely warm day wrapped in injured pride and self-pity, or should I regard that chat as the very first piece of constructive criticism I have ever been offered in all the years I've been yapping on the internet, and simply try to do better? I'm literally horrified to find that I've hurt someone who certainly didn't deserve it, but without any form of direction at all, odds are high that I'll do it again, albeit unwittingly.‪#‎gettingtheexcusesinearly‬.
Some kind spirit has just arrived as I sit here out in the morning breeze, and my self-loathing is already dissipating. I've no doubt I'll go back and reread those remarks occasionally and beat myself bloody all over again, but that's the nature of this beast. Collaborate? I had NO idea. A collaboration of which this Eejit was totally and utterly unaware..

The pain that had crippled me so viciously on rising, has been removed for the moment, and it's as if it never existed. Love me or loathe me, I stumble on.
Peace.

Sunday 12th October 2014 at 8.47am

2014-10-18T09:56:00.002-07:00

Haunted?
(begun Thursday 9th October at 5am)

*Update at 7.11pm Saturday: The GameWrecker arrived back home just before dark this evening to report that someone had called out to him as he'd been pulling into our gates. Difficult to see clearly in the gloom of twilight, he said the man appeared to be wearing a Security Guard's uniform and was up at No. 11. The real deal, or a borrowed costume, and why call down to my old man, as that's a first, and sounds very much as though the chap was told to announce himself should either of us appear at the top. You'll have to pardon my scepticism folks, as the lies and theatrics in this neck of the woods have now reached laughable proportions. If you don't mind, I'll continue to regard the No. 11 M.O.T.H. cottage as our very own Trojan Horse, until a real and visible effort is made to restore it.* ‪#‎pissedoffmightily‬

It was guilt that got me up this morning at 4.30am. I'd stirred a few minutes earlier to hear a big dog's faint and frenzied barking, although my ruined hearing hadn't gotten my interest levels kicking in. I'd lain there until I'd remembered her saying a couple of times to me 'But didn't you hear our dogs barking?' and that had gotten me up and out of bed. I'd shone the powerful light up to the street and it had fallen remarkably silent, and stayed that way.

My Excellent Neighbour had rung me fairly early on Tuesday morning to say their garage door had been forced open in the early hours and godschild's tools had been nicked, although they hadn't touched the pretty red car.. godschild had phoned not long afterwards to repeat the tale. He'd also filled in the bits he'd heard about the Flame Lily Trustee's electrician son, who has apparently camped some of his wekkers inside the vandalised Cottage at No. 11, with a 'Jimmy' in charge. (Edit at 6.51am: godschild has just kindly informed me that it's Jerry, not Jimmy. And he says that he's not seen the guy since he was introduced. Odd, if they were installed there to do the repairs? By now you will all be aware that I don't share ALL of my thoughts here with you ) Information confirming what I'd already been told by No. 11's immediate neighbours.
Those strips of fabric hanging on those windows have been changing overnight for weeks already, so I figure this latest crock from Andre is just that. Bullshit.

LATER at 1.15pm Thursday.

I'd been pulling away from home around 8pm when the Smart City Project's HS Reticulation contractors had headed up the Crescent, and I'd noticed our Freddie lurking by his garage.
The dear man had called out to me as I'd driven level to his gates, and he'd said that they'd broken into his yard in the early hours. godschild had called some fifteen minutes later to say they'd had another go at his garage door this morning, as well. 'Jerry' and his buds, officially earning their keep from out of No. 11? Hell, you tell me. That cottage overlooks all of our properties and for even half-way organised mischief-makers, they couldn't have asked for a better hangout.

Saturday 11th October at 4am.

I'd anticipated it would get pretty nasty during the school hols and I was right, though it's small consolation to know that I'm not alone. Targets like us, across the country, will be suffering additional pain and discomfort as Learners spend their vacs tucked indoors practising their quantum laser skills under the guidance of a nearby Tutor/Area Controller.
The tooth-grinding levels of the BackFire frequency now run all day, with little if any respite, while the Graveyard Shift sadists compound the damage in the wee hours.

Even as I sit here now at the desk, the flames begin to lick at the Abomination as they crane over my shoulder to read my scribbled words. This can be achieved without causing me any discomfort whatsoever, but with the Poor Sod's carefully nurtured hate-fuelled family just yards from where I sit, mercy is not an option that the Unfortunate Creature would entertain.

Do your neighbours have any black mirror glass installed on their windows? Possibly just the street-facing windows, or just one on either side of their home? If you're not yet an official Recruit to the quantum Project, that black glass will identify those who are.
Small wonder that Shunnon Tulsiram had fobbed my Vice Chair off when he'd asked for a projected date of the Project's completion. It's literally a forever operation, and a decade from now roads and pavements will continue to be carved up as the hidden networks run fibre to each and every home across SA, in order to own the occupants, body and soul.

Sinkholes will continue to appear, as vast amounts of free running water continue to undermine roads and pavements. Bleak? I guess that depends on your attitude. It's an acknowledged fact that I'm slower than most in the brains department, and I find myself constantly grateful for having been allowed to witness and participate in this astonishing New Age wireless war, as one-sided as it is.
I hover on the sidelines, often crippled and bloody, noting in awe the many intellectuals who've fallen prey to the hype of whichever Sales Pitch they've been offered, and to the addiction that grows rapidly with the employment of this astounding technology.

Formerly kind and compassionate humans, who will find themselves daily becoming irritated by their fellow-man and his petty concerns, during their invisible forays into the privacy of their neighbour's homes.
Once these fine Recruits have graduated to controlling the animals on a given property, by use of specific radio waves, they will of course be encouraged to manipulate the human occupant's behaviour as well, and by that time there's no turning back.

Small things at first, for sure. You had a Meeting you wished to attend, but you suddenly developed a crashing headache a few hours before, and had to call in your apologies? Your elderly parent was suddenly taken ill and needed you? Your car's battery died without warning? All glitches that could be put down to sheer bad luck, and it would be paranoid of you to think otherwise. Pfft.

According to the poster, she'd come home to find that a crew had entered her yard illegally, and had moved her water meter without permission, leaving an appalling and unfinished mess on her pavement and property. From where I'm standing, it appears to be a clear case of fibre to the home through their sewage or waterlines, and that most certainly couldn't be achieved without the homeowner's knowledge. Is her outrage genuine, or is it merely theatrics being employed to disguise that fact that she's the latest Smart City quantum Recruit on that stretch of road?
Will her immediate neighbours soon become aware of the regular stench of eau de turd, and does she have several large aircon units affixed to the outside of her house?

You're down in the Umbilo/Glenwood area? Ongoing problems with your phones/laptop/PC? Under the weather most days? However grim you're feeling, try to sit up and take notice. Discuss your symptoms with the neighbours that you know, and see if they match. Everything you now say, do, or write is being monitored and recorded by a nearby recruit. Everything. Though you may never make the ranks of the chosen Elite, this engineered madness is well worth your interest, and you may safely begin babbling aloud to your invisible visitors as they gatecrash your private lives and break down your immune system on a regular basis.
Have fun while you can. Peace.

Saturday 11th October at 5.47am.

2014-10-18T09:54:00.004-07:00

Daddy's girl?
(begun Wednesday 8th October at 10.25am)

How shall I irritate thee today? Let me count the ways...

Shall I speak of the organised mischief-making Planners, huddled together up at SAPS Sydenham? Shall I tell you how I've just learned that my Honourable Vice Chair's Audi brakes had failed, the day before he'd left to go abroad?
I only got the basics, and the fact that he's due to ask his mechanic how such a thing could happen to a vehicle that is well looked after, but I would hope you're paying attention.

The Thuggees had moved their focus from his feet and throat in the weeks prior to his departure, to his jawline. Sound familiar? Lymphglands perhaps? Whatever. His GP had been unable to explain the cause of the problem, and it had persisted up until he'd left the country. He says he'd had a mind to visit some sort of specialist while in the US, in an attempt to diagnose and treat this latest ailment, but as luck would have it, he'd had not so much as a twinge of pain, once he'd left our sunny shores.

Would a medic trained to recognise the symptoms of over- exposure to radiation have been able to assist the good man? How fortunate for Mr. van Zyl's Superiors then, that there are no such qualified specialists in South Africa at present, and the quantum laser recruits may continue to employ this vicious and unseen means of torture to their targets, without fear of getting caught.

Dozens upon dozens of you sit on his Facebook page purporting to be his Friends, and yet you are too cowardly to take him aside and fill him in on the 'merits' of this world-changing technology. Why is that?
Do your orders expressly forbid you to Share this wondrous secret with the good man? A man who would add value to anything he supported?
Could it be that the authorities fear my VC's outspoken and articulate speech? That were he to be made fully aware of the total removal of the SA population's right to privacy and good health by the quantum laser /wireless technology, and the ongoing scale of corruption to the power and waterlines necessary to achieve this goal, he might just rock the comfortable gravy boat that so many of you wallow in?

Despite that there's been not so much as a drop of rain since yesterday's appalling heat, my quantum 'Protectors' have seen fit to reintroduce the squeaking 'insect' signal enhancer nearby. The worst of the physical assaults to my person have been somewhat tempered this morning, and I've no idea whether it's due to the squeaky enhancer or to the fact that Agent Balliram's eldest may be elsewhere occupied on this lovely cool day.
I've got that bit wrong, Missus B? For all your sakes, I certainly hope so.
Peace.

Wednesday 8th October 2014 at 12.27pm.

2014-10-18T09:53:00.002-07:00

Hidden Networks?
(begun Tuesday 7th October at 6.20am)

I've been lucky. My 69th year and no allergies, no pre-existing ailments or conditions, no nothing. Well, except for the Abomination on my back, but she's here to stay, and if she were left alone by my Tormentors, I can mostly forget about her for hours at a time..
So, it's got to appear to be like a natural progression of age, has it not, Mistuh van Zyl? The aches and pains that inevitably arrive as we grow older? *winks

I was forced properly awake at around 3am as Someone had driven a branding iron into my cancer, and had held it there. Small wonder the abomination declines to heal back over with these now regular vicious deliveries in the wee hours. Were YOU on the Graveyard shift in ours at that hour, and was it your turn to administer my 'punishment?'
I'd been up by 5am just before a wave of the Backfire frequency had hit me, followed smartly by an unpleasant pinch to the lower back, and it's obvious the goondas mean business..

To those of you who constantly exhort us to sing only of light, love and laughter, and to ignore the wickedness that's rife among the quantum ranks, I have alas, felt the repugnance and impatience, and yes - the sheer vitriol given off by those whose Cloaks of Respectability would otherwise be impeccable *waves to the young Beauty and the Snake... There's nothing that brings out your self-righteous rage so much as those you perceive to be confirmed idiots, giving voice to their opinions? You would have us lesser mortals believe that good will always triumph over evil, and that by ignoring the foul methods being used to enslave the population, there's a chance we'll be allowed to survive? *chokes...

The New Age quantum Army will bring about a better life for all? Dare I ask for your definition of 'all?' Those mostly older folk who speak out against the corrupt will be picked off with ease, with the aid of this astoundingly advanced surveillance technology, and the rest will continue to provide fodder for this ghastly global culling experiment. A better life for some, perhaps.

Hidden Networks, Janneman? How many to an average suburb? Just the one Sherwood Network, and a separate one for Sydenham?
He'd been buying me a book on Amazon the other day, and neither of us had been aware that the Connect to the Internet option was activated on my Kindle. Our faces must have been a study as that purchase flew magically into my device without having to plug it in to the computer as we usually do. Hau!
The GameWrecker had called me over a day or so later to show me my Excellent Neighbour's phone number on his cellphone screen, and how it now showed the words Hidden Network below the name.
Hardly a surprise as you know, and it changes nothing. Sadly, damage control had arrived a tad late to attempt to muddy those waters.

I'm currently doing a run-off for the Cause, and a myriad different species of birds fly happily in and out of the spray from the garden sprinkler. It's 6.55am and the new pup down the way has just announced itself.
Is our Akay a dog lover, or could it be that the DRC tenants at No. 2 have acquired themselves another animal? We'll wait and see, shall we?
Have a great day...

LATER at 7.59pm

The power went off a few hours later than scheduled, at 10.15am. Five minutes later that nifty little white chopper had begun a series of enormous circles into Sydenham and then back down towards the base station at UKZN. At 2.25pm the power came back on, along with a savage pinch to my side and the Backfire frequency.

I'd been online and sending out the Sector Policing forum Minutes, when off it went again at 2.55pm. Games, Agent Balliram? Frederick? The sort of nonsense that can do terminal mischief to some of the more expensive appliances.
It was back on again by 3.15pm to stay, although booting up the computer to finish the mailing job was not an option I was given. Instead I got the Error 718 'Remote computer didn't respond in a timely manner', and I shut down and went away until now.

Peace.

Tuesday 7th October 2014 at 8.06pm.