Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Unbelievable...
(begun Wednesday 19th December at 5.30am..)

You can hear the rage bubbling just beneath the surface, always ready to explode at the drop of a hat.. Do you sweat your bottled-up frustrations out at the local gym?  A round of golf? A screaming match with the spouse?  Or do you check through the Mugs whose power supplies you now control, and pick the home of one or two you consider to be the most unpleasant, before hopping on in to flood them with the more devastating of your new weaponry?  The satisfaction as they suddenly begin a spasmodic coughing, until they nearly black out, or they start to move around restlessly, as they try to escape the sudden knives of pain that attack a joint or soft tissue?  Can the monitoring technology pick out the beads of sweat that pop out on the forehead, or the greenish tinge to their faces, as you hammer them with the Nausea frequency?

After an enjoyable hour or so of sticking it to those deserving monkeys, you're refreshed and ready to take on the world?  Anyone else need a brown paper bag at this point? *gags...
Ludicrous, Wabbit?  I don't think so, and I confess it startled me when I managed to condense the truth into that fairly brief post on mybroadband yesterday... Give or take a few details, that's as near as dammit to what's happened as you're going to get, and no amount of would-be scathing put-downs will change anything..
The single most terrifying part of it all is the speed with which the Suckers bought into the Trojan Horse scam, and how willingly they lined up to sign on...  How they puffed up with righteous zeal as they were awarded their pseudo-NIA clearances, giving them carte blanche to spy on their neighbours...

LATER at 8.15am

Another shift-change?  Balliram's house-alarm has just rung it's full course, as a possibly over-enthusiastic Proxy made a slight error of judgement... You can never discount that His Slimyness lounges in der Bunker unseen, with his car neatly hidden in the garage, but how the heck would you know or care, as you blindly dance to his tune?
I'd spent a pleasant hour out in the garden using the long handled branch lopper, and have come in to pick up the thread... Any of you care to claim credit for the sudden deep twinge at the base of my spine only minutes after I'd sat down here at the desk?  The BackFire frequency has been non-existent for the past hour or more, but even now Millie begins to stir and grumble..?
Is discussion among yourselves of your 'duties' frowned upon, or do you openly brag on the Sherwood Network of the home strikes you achieve on your unmissable targets?

I'd been meaning to call Missus Bernie at No. 17 to see whether she too had endured any payback as a result of her invite last Tuesday... I never did, self-centred turd that I am..(8.30am, and there goes the ChickenCoop alarm again, to re-inforce the idea that the Creature isn't around, nor is there anyone tucked away in a back room at No. 11?).  Turns out they'd waited a while to exact revenge on Missus Bernie, and she'd called me earlier to say that out of the blue yesterday, she was suddenly crippled by agonising pains in her coccyx, and had to call on No. 16 for assistance..
The irony, hey Prameet?  Your kind mama going to the old lady's aid?  (A sudden spike of BackFire as someone tries to read my scribbles over my shoulder, with the alarm still shrilling out in the background).

Is No. 17 to be disabled for Christmas this year? (*woop! woop! woop!)  The sooner you wake up and realise that these are not unfortunate coincidences, but are dedicated and savage attacks carried out with malice of forethought, the better...  The renewed poking at my lower spine had me speaking out loud angrily.. I can feel each individual and unpleasant jab, and while the sensation may be fascinating, the intent is very obvious... *finger...
So - did you go see what I managed to post in the News and Current Affairs Forum yesterday?  A seriously uncharacteristically trimmed-down version of the inception of the Privacy Theft technology.. *chokes.. Here, have a dekko: Warning:   PS  Although the font in the Edit section appears as it should be, the elves have come on in and shrunk the published update.  Go figure..  You find it amusing that these so-called Intelligence Officers have nothing better to do than create mischief for idiots?  You might want to re-think that attitude before it's too late?

You'll have to forgive the double post, but on the plus side I brought my own knotted rope..

What if, way back when Telkom had approached the likes of those struggle stalwarts, the Shaikboys and Mac Maharaj, and had whispered to them of an amazingly sophisticated technology that would allow them to aid and manipulate their comrades from the shadows?
What if Stef Roux and Petruccione had set about perfecting their quantum laser / wireless comms system to suit SA's demographics, and then gotten Sutcliffe to present it to Joe Public as nothing more than a perfectly harmless, but highly advanced communications system, when in fact it was an eye-popping means of accessing every home and business via their powerlines, and relaying the stolen data back to a satellite?

What if Roux's 'we could use existing cellmasts' were to explain the increasing number of DSTV-like satellite dishes sprouting from previously unadorned masts? Naspers.. hmm... What if by some lucky coincidence Telkom already had a decent amount of fibre laid, that was apparently doing nothing, so why not incorporate it? Is this technology not all about lights 'talking' to lights, and the more the merrier, the stronger the signal?

So, what if the Organised Crime bosses were roped in to promote crime on a grand scale, ensuring that the terrified population added any number of extra lights to their properties for safety's sake? What if, years later, when the country was reeling under the carefully nurtured corruption, it was whispered that a band of tech-minded purported incorruptibles from State Intelligence were going to hijack this surveillance technology and employ it as a Trojan Horse, to infiltrate the Crooked with your help, and bring them to book?

Ag TB, I'm easily silenced by a good dose of logic and common-sense, but at least you've allowed this old Fool to confirm what most of you already knew. Whether wild imagination or truth, the fact remains there's magic in the air right now, and I consider myself fortunate to be around to see it.. Jane *adjusts silver foil safety helmet and dives for cover...
Who among you was offended by my use of the term 'purported incorruptibles'?  BeVonk?  Have you never, since your recruitment to the ranks of the Yellow Army, unleashed a little extra of what-have-you into a target's home, simply because you judged them to be wanting?  Not EVER?  If you can say that without your nose suddenly increasing by an inch in length, then there's no need for your feathers to be ruffled in any way....I guess I'm directing my mutters more towards the likes of the Majoor Groenewald's in this sorry saga... A young man who no doubt considers himself as some sort of front-line hero with his special Unit, and yet who, if he was stood in a public dock and my charges read out, would bring shame on himself and his family from all quarters...
After all, it was this so-called Lawman who personally ensured there would be a live-satellite feed relayed back to his colleagues of my strangled curses, was he not?  Who set up my poor GP's surgery so that not one sound or sight would be missed, as that ping-pong-ball sized malignancy was removed from my hip without anaesthetic...  A task that would've required every ounce of Majoor Groenewald's courage, as he scuttled about St. Augustine's in his pseudo- Head of Technical Services overalls, rigging up enhancers to the aircon units in each room... *spews...
Hey - For all I know he was a good policeman before he was roped in to work specifically with the Surveillance technology, but after that, it was downhill all the way...
LATER at 9.20am
I'd called the GW out onto the verandah just before I went to bed last night.. The smell was overpowering, but I couldn't pin it down at all...  Again, nothing whatsoever to do with a stopped-up crap-filled sewage line, but a chemical sort of pong instead...  The old man had tottered to the edge of the bank to find no murky bubbling water on the drain cover, and had came back in to announce that he thought it smelled like pine-needles FFS... *dumb-struck...
Has our sense of smell been compromised, along with our sight and hearing?  Your guess, folks...  When the GW had called the Muni's Sewer Fault line yesterday, he'd found that we were well over the thousand mark in the queue, which is totally unsurprising considering the floods last week...  Nothing to do with you, Oinker?  Absolutely sure of that, are we?  I've an idea that the initial problem may well have arisen due to the rain, but that you've since hopped gleefully on board this band-wagon to make the most of it, though I'll be only too happy to be proven wrong... *waits..
Who's officially running the Shift in ours right now?  Several of you at the same time, so you'll never be sure which of you caused my muttered curses at the spike in the BackFire frequency just now, let alone care? *sighs... Sad to say, you've fallen among more than just Privacy Thieves folks, and in case you hadn't noticed, you've inadvertently aligned yourselves firmly to organised crime...
Several chirrups from a remote at No. 6 sound at 9.36am, and you can rest assured it's likely there's more mischief stirring... *yawns... As Ellen says 'Be kind to one another', and have a good one.. 
Peace..
---oOo---
Wednesday 19th December 2012 at 10.56am..











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