Flame-thrower...
(begun Friday 31st August at 3.20am..)
You want good-humoured banter, you go look elsewhere... I've got the Special Operative sitting next to me, playing his flame-thrower on my back to amuse himself, so any grinning will be done through clenched, yellowed stumps....
Drop it? I will not. How long after those two criminal acts in 2005 did it take me to get to hear about B.Snr's double-whammy experiences, let alone join the dots? Long enough for you to roar with derisive laughter at the thought that any of these wortheless Labrats would ever be compensated for the damage caused them? You betcha...
Hell, by the time this dumbass realised it had to have been Balliram and Spence stumbling about with the new technology that had nailed B.Snr. twice, so neatly, you can guarantee they'd hit more than just No. 4.. *vomits...
How carefully does Stefanus misleadingly suggest that 2010/11 was the start-up date for his quantum laser communications system here in eThekwini, and yet we know the fellow is being more than economical with the truth, to put it mildly....
He came back here to SA from Ottawa in 2004 with a purpose, and although the vast laser showers didn't arrive until I guess 2012, after they'd rigged up whatever special laser machine he'd been waiting for, the damage had begun as early as mid-2005, if not before... Lies, lies, and more lies, hey Francesco?
I've written countless times of how B.Snr. must have crossed some sort of rogue beam as he worked out in his garden in DLOS to the Barnard Rd. cellmast, though till recently it hadn't occurred to me to refer to it as a LASER beam....
An error, Allen? The more I think about it, the less of an 'error' I think it was... I think that B.Snr. was targeted deliberately, simply out of curiosity, as in 'wonder what'll happen if we do this?' *spews... What did it matter if it went pear-shaped? There wasn't a chance of anyone that mattered putting two and two together, and even if they did, there was no way it could be proved...
When it had turned out to be the Village Idiot herself that had eventually seen the light (!), my shrieks of outrage must have had you murderous bastards in stitches...Compensation? The Moron figured B.Snr. was owed compensation? I'm betting with hindsight that many more than just B.Snr went down in the early days, as Balliram tested out his new toy on the locals... I'm betting there'd even been a few fatal heart-attacks or strokes at the time, and my howls of fury at a couple of instances of water on the brain would've been regarded as a big fat joke... You do get why I'm so totally pissed off, right? That my friends had anticipated their move to No. 4 Harris Crescent would be their last, and that they'd spend their retirement happily in that house, and never have to move again...
The least you could've done was to reimburse them for that 2005 cock-up, and the odds are that if you'd done so, they would've weathered the financial devastation so cunningly engineered by the Town Clerk Sutcliffe, and not been forced to relocate again....
They'll be better off way down by Sheppie, and out of reach of this sadistic Monster next door? You think? All three of those unfortunate guinea-pigs have had their immune systems cooked off systematically over the past eight years, and I figure wherever they go, at least two of the three will be susceptible to EMR and wireless, thanks to Balliram and Spence and their Foul Masters....
*It's now 4am, and a sudden attack of Knives to the Back tells me Mr. Grumpy is getting tetchy...*
Be reasonable? How could the PTB set a precedent and pay out No. 4 when there were victims dropping all over the show in worse circumstances? So no, instead of finding a nice fat cheque in his mailbox, B.Snr. and his family continued to be regarded as useful Labrats, and were assaulted via their powerlines as relentlessly as ever we were....
You've always salved your conscience at my plight by telling yourselves I deserve everything I get, and I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on the inclusion of the family at No. 4.. You wrote them off simply because of their kindness towards me? No wonder I've not made any headway at all, if you've been successfully lying to yourselves as far back as 2005.... You'll have that useful ability down to a fine art by now, and certainly won't see yourselves as accessories to murder or attempted murder...
Au contraire - You're the just-behind-the-lines heroes in this technological warfare, and tasked to back up the thin yellow line of so-called soldiers, who make up the ranks of the Area Controllers....
When the inevitable catastrophes occur, it's your job to perpetuate the lies and excuses, and to reassure any Doubting Thomases that everything is for the best, including the agonies of the innocents.. Sickening, indeed....
Flies, honey, and vinegar? Hell, I've tried that route and ja, I can give you the reasons behind your astonishing and willing capitulation to these Criminals, and I do fully understand them, but that doesn't mean I have to condone them..
How do you intend spending the rest of your lives? Living on the edge? Making the most of it while you can? Doing countless good works and letting the chips fall where they may? And your kids? What about them? Does your conveniently fatalistic outlook include your offspring?
For all I know there are scientists already working on a less physically destructive version of the laser/wireless technology, and maybe in a few years time the world's population will stop dropping like flies before this wave of EMR and wireless... Wouldn't that be great? Hah! You simply don't see the flaws, do you? That you're prepared to back and support downright criminals being appointed as Area Controllers? Okay. I've worked myself into a mini-froth and I'm going to head back to Cloud 9 for a bit...
LATER at 8.00am
Am I losing what little grip I've left on reality? Instinct tells me something's not right at all, and I feel totally off-kilter.. When the GW had headed back into Sherwood at 2.20pm yesterday, a different frequency to the usual BackFire or Broken Wrists had kicked in, just as we went by the Engen Garage.. A deep ache in the top of both thighs.. It faded and I forgot about it until now, as Flo was struggling up the stairs with her bad hip.. I was level with her, and I swear we both took a smack from the overheads along the first terrace.. She to her hip joint, and me to my fat thighs... *interested...
The tight band at the base of my skull is also becoming a regular.. It's purpose? Is that what's making me feel increasingly out of control this morning, or is it just self-induced stress that I'm struggling to cope with? * at a loss...
My Good Neighbour just smiled at me as I tottered down my stairs, and the temptation to fall on my knees and thank him for yesterday's respite was there, although maybe I should rather be asking his forgiveness for the inevitable repurcussions their kindness will have on his family... *sighs... You think someone can change? That the power-hungry Sadist next door can suddenly revert to a normal, caring human being? *chokes... I've not changed, that's for sure...
I'm the same unpleasant, impatient simple-minded fool I always was, except that I've found that tiny bit of respect for my own staying power, hidden among all the other traits I love to loathe..*grins..
LATER at 11.10am
His Beemer was still on the driveway when I'd pulled back through my gates after 10.am, and I guess he was absent-mindedly holding a couple of classes for the local Housewives League, to create the usual smarmy alibi... He'd stuck with me all the way to the San, and he was in the waiting room before I even sat down..*yawns.. It wasn't you, Balliram? Sure dude, your lips are moving, and that's good enough for me...
I was in and out of there with admirable speed, and three more of Millie's younger siblings had bitten the dust..
I'm out on the verandah right now, and it really is a beautiful day, with a pair of loeries trying to pluck up the nerve to use the birdbath, and the feeder full of masked weavers and frets...
Each time I think the tall mulberry tree has gasped it's last, it fools me by recovering to push out stunted green leaves at the top, and at a glance you'd never see it was battling to survive.. That is, until you spy the broad streaks of black painted on parts of it's trunk HERE...
Can I catch a few zzz's here in this little patch of sunshine, or will the Knob activate a nasty, right away?
Peace..
---oOo---
Friday 31st August 2012 at 1.43pm.
