KILLING FIELDS..
(begun Wednesday 13th June at 4.40am...)
*Catch-up time.. We're a long way out of the woods still, meanwhile, there's little point in zipping my fat lip....*
Practise what you preach? After a messy first attempt sometime before 7pm last night, that must have done a fair amount of mischief to a good few appliances, he finally slammed off the power properly at 8.15pm, and I'd managed to squeeze in a bit of hologram hunting before he'd flicked it back on at 8.35pm... The cut had knocked out the Convent as well, so maybe there'd been a hasty adjustment to make somewhere, or alternatively, he was just giving his flagging ego a boost.. There's no telling how a psycho's mind works... *mutters...
The few spheres I'd managed to capture during my brief walkabout, had appeared larger than usual, but was probably some sort of optical illusion... HERE..
The Polo's front grille looks like a Christmas tree HERE, despite it's pitch black surroundings, though the GW made up his mind it was due to the camera's flash...NOT.. I said I'd use the tripod the next time we have a powercut, and do without the flash, to prove to him that his car has been roped in to work for the laser/wireless Project after hours...
Man, they are thorough... I'd hauled out my ancient Singer late yesterday afternoon, to run up a few new grainbag covers... I can't remember when last I used it, but there it was.. The ugly splodge of ochre brown on it's bodywork along with several carefully applied white dots... *spews...
Whether Balliram's Master Applicator achieved all his carefully daubed laser-encouraging markings years ago, or whether he arrives each Thursday once we've gone out, is unknown, but he certainly earns his keep...
I'd taken the paraffin and the steel scourer to three of the dark grey paving slates on the pathway yesterday, and then gone over them with sugar soap before hosing them off.. They were still damp by late afternoon, so it was pointless taking further pictures to see whether the pale turquoise substance had shifted.. For all I know a Wall Jumper came in and re-applied it last night, so I'm not really anticipating any changes there..*belches...
I'd also had a half-hearted attempt at scraping off the black substance that's been applied to a wall stone only inches from our ancient electricity meter HERE..
Maybe Professor Els would be able to tell me how to remove it, once he's been down and identified the various chemical compounds that have been used...
It was stunningly quiet after the organised mayhem of the previous night, though I was nonetheless woken after midnight with the unpleasant ache at the top of my thigh.. Around 2am the little dog thought he heard something, and I'd had to tuck him back up on the bed.. At 3am I gave up and got up, and as things have been going, I still consider that was a fairly good night...
The dog's livers are cooling out on the verandah, and I find I can't build up enough irritation for a worthwhile rant right now, so I'll get back to you... *waves as the remote chirrups next door...
Thursday 14th June at 3.45am
After a rough start yesterday, I was left fairly pain-free to enjoy the morning.. That is, until 11.30am, when Balliram's 'woop!' remote sounded three times, and Millie the Gross woke instantaneously... Psychosomatic? Subliminal messaging to what passes for my brain? Not a chance...
Another double-woop an hour later, blew my one possible theory out of the water, and there's no ways it was anyone other than Mistuh Malice himself behind the remote.. Not No. 25 being trained up as an Operator, and not some house-guest acting as front line border guard, but the Poor Creature himself, no matter what BS he shoots you...
Another double woop after 3pm, and that was it for the day... *eyeroll...
The dogs had gone bananas at some point during the morning, and the GW had trundled out front to find a passer-by below our valley wall.. A right dodgy-looking bloke, balaclava and all, he'd eventually looked up and seen the old man studying him, before he'd moved on up towards the playing field with his backpack and some sort of suitcase... The GW had watched as the chap fetched more of his 'luggage' from where he'd left it, and had ended up ferrying his now three shoulder bags and attache case down into the bushes around the storm-water drain at the bottom, where he'd vanished.. I'd tried at least five of the various SAPS officer's cellphone numbers, before giving up and calling the Charge Office itself...
I'd told the pleasant Warrant Officer about the shifty-looking guy and his belongings, but I figure he knew as well as I did, that the fellow would be long gone before a van got here... *shrugs..
The GW had headed off to the shops in the afternoon and I'd gone out onto the front lawn at 2.45pm to fill the bird feeder before the rain arrived.. Was it the same guy? Hard to tell from that distance, but there he sat, up by the second, smaller gap in the playing field wall, having built himself a nice cozy fire.. *blinks.. I fetched the binoculars, but he'd pulled his anorak hood down over his head, and was partially hidden behind some overhanging branches, as he sat comfortably on an upturned red bucket... *yawns... Mischief for sure, and you can guarantee he'd have the obligatory cellphone somewhere about his person, in order to take directions... *studies the Creep.. An independent, Master? Not one of yours? Hah!
Our Roof Climber? The chap that had passed our wall after 10am, had certainly been a lightweight that could've gotten away with using the cat's make-shift ladder safely to get up on our roof.. Will his role as a Useful Tool be over, since he's been spotted and discussed, or is he set to create further mischief before he's paid off? *curious....
It's now 4.25am, and Millie is just beginning to stir, as the best the Intelligence Department can offer gradually cranks up his monitoring options... I'd gone back into blogger.com fairly soon after I'd published Organised Chaos on Tuesday, and yeah - I'd been startled to find that eighteen people had apparently already read what I'd written... Eighteen ghoulish rubber-neckers and colleagues of our own charming Controller, spread across the globe? Unlike the GW, I've learned over the years under the rule of our proxy ISP, to mistrust anything I read on the interwebz, and the stats option on my blog would certainly be an area he could falsify with ease... Are they all visiting to read reports on His Shiftyness' prowess at causing pain and suffering via the powerlines, and picking up tips along the way? *vomits at the thought...
I'd had a fairly decent chat to my VC on the landline yesterday morning, and by the time I hung up it was once again glaringly obvious that mine is, and will remain, a solo flight... I'd have to bet that he's like many of you, in that he still insists he needs proof before he can accept my claims.. Up until the Panasonic decided to reveal the holograms and the vapour trails left by the vast amount of laser activity in the area, all I've ever had was circumstantial evidence...
Naturally, from where I'm standing knee deep in a pool of blood, it all fits together way too perfectly to be a thumb-suck...
Where's the Telecom's Strategist right now? Holed up in some distant city, as he wheels and deals with Druglords and Organised Crime Bosses and the local constabulary, to get the wireless/laser surveillance technology operating at optimum levels? Constantly reassuring those that are just beginning to see the appalling toll this technology is taking on the population, that they're worrying needlessly? Closing gaps, and fixing cracks that appear, before they can create a ground-swell of alarm? Sure he is... *waves to Jannie van Zyl...
It appears that here in Durban the Opposition are still cheerfully insisting that heads will roll as a result of the Manase Report... But there's a catch.. Apparently the guilty parties will pay, unless they do a runner overseas? Bah! Brilliant... Sutcliffe's going to get away with it, though hopefully he'll be looking over his shoulder for the rest of his miserable life, no matter how many miles he puts between himself and his organised crimes against humanity...
It might have been last year that I'd bought the GW a sander he'd wanted. To this day it remains unopened and in it's box. I'd asked him yesterday whether he could fish it out and try it on one of the pieces of 'blue' slasto on the pathway, as it would do a way better job than my feeble efforts with paraffin and a scourer... He declined my request, but I'll nag away nonetheless, and it'll be interesting to see whether that as-yet unused appliance has been tagged by my Controller and will simply refuse to start when the on-switch is activated.. Will I be able to find the marks made on it, to show my SO? We'll have to wait and see....
LATER at 5.35am
My eyes are worse than usual this morning, and feel gritty and raw... Looking in the mirror, I was reminded of our Superintendent of Electricity for Durban, Allen Spence, and his one visit to ours, years back... Arc eye Allen? Welding? You don't say.... I'd have to lay odds that you were spending more time in the fields of laser vapour trails for longer than was good for your eyesight, even back then.... Any lasting damage? You've had to resort to stronger reading specs, and do you wear safety goggles these days? Not an option your Labrats were ever offered, hey Al, old son? *snarls...
LATER at 6.55am
Last night's Wall Jumper had left an artfully arranged trail behind him for my benefit.. It's long been the goonda way, designed to unsettle, and this time it was two white tissues and a sweet wrapper up on our driveway, and an entire large pawpaw leaf snapped off and lying inside our boundary wall down by the valley... *yawns... Had he come back to collect the long lead that's wound onto the ancient metal wheel, that had somehow been left unchained on the verandah last Saturday? Jaguars rule? If you say so.....
Peace..
---oOo---
Sunday 17th June 2012 at 10.55am.
