Bailed...
(begun Friday 9th March at 3.30am...)


It's impossible to tell whether it's an underaged youngster with a flair for the Game, or the Expert in the Field himself, but whoever it is on shift right now, they're dead keen... Knives to the back before I'd even put pen to paper? Bored witless, or just delighted to see me? Shame..
How does it work? The kids out there on the LAN?  Young Naz had actually sat through an entire CPF Meeting simply to verify for herself that a 60+ year old could possibly be shooting her mouth off on the interwebz...  Has she progressed to the Look & Listen interactive 'Game' yet, and is she any good at it?

Such a practical, no-nonsense young lady, she'd really stood out from the crowd, and I battle to imagine her invading her neighbour's privacy and actually enjoying it...
Daniel, from No. 11, on the other hand, is a very different kettle of fish, and if he can dodge the Young Offender's Courts, he'll probably go on to be every bit as useful and sadistic as his Tutor... So it's an interactive Sims-type 'game' where the Players score points for what?
Does the points system vary, depending on whose home they gate-crash?  In ours, do you get more creds if you can manage to get the old bitch to curse out loud?

Balliram will set the frequency of his choice for your session, and all you have to do is follow me from room to room, saving the data as you go?  To try and pre-empt where exactly I'm going, and be there, a second ahead of me?  Like so often when I walk down the passage I'll take a Knife to the Back as I cross past the microwave jack in the kitchen, or even the jackpoint in my bedroom...  Are there now loads of  Hacker's Hubs dotting the suburbs, whose occupants are similarly rewarding to torture, or are the majority of the Suckers blissfully unaware of the Peeping Toms invading their privacy?  Do some of them even think that there could be ghosts in their homes, as a result of some of the games the Area Controller's play with their victims?
What exactly do these otherwise rudderless youngsters like Dan do for pocket money? Do they actually earn a wage for their efforts, or do they survive on empty promises?  Do the Gamers mingle and chat with each other online?  If you're an ordinary housewife with a flair for employing this astonishingly invasive technology, how the heck would you know whether you're chatting to a psychopath on IRC, or not?  Freaky..*shudders...

It's 4am, and the tinny squeak of a NAT kicks in nearby, and you have to wonder why the Lurker would want to further enhance what sits here scribbling at the desk..*eyeroll...
Did you know that your cellphones are also employed to increase the monitoring options?  How I often only have to stick the PC plug into the kitchen jack, whereupon one or two of our five phones will, within minutes, announce that a text has arrived?  I've learned to pretty much ignore them, as more often than not it's from Vodacom (*winks), but the ever-obliging GW will maddeningly trundle through and open the damned thing anyways... Alternatively, the landline will ring and it'll be a wrong number, but once you've either opened that text or picked up the receiver, they have the additional connection they desire...  *and the sudden bout of extreme Knives to the Back as I sit updating here in blogger? Bedaar jou..*

Does godschild realise that his home is easily as accessible to Balliram as ours?  Does he seriously believe that his family are somehow exempt from having their privacy violated, simply because they're fully on board the Experiment?  You'd have to be remarkably gullible to believe any such thing... You're all fair game to the Tutor, and he'll be popping into yours regularly, when you least expect it... As time goes by, and your own immune system weakens, you might gain your own Warning System, as your compromised knee-joints or wrists take to muttering painfully at a sudden unexpected surge in power, but I guess you'll have to learn to live with it...

Any of you out there who're old enough to remember when the verges were neat and tidy?  Long before the advent of this world-changing Experiment and the practise of employing droogs to drop all manner of litter about the street to assist the Gamers in steering their laser beams?  Something as innocuous as a piece of cellophane (sp) or a bit of silver foil cigarette paper, can work wonders... White flyers, or styrofoam cups left decorating the verges make the game that much easier, do they not?

How are the numbers of cancer-related deaths over in Umhlanga?  The Environmentalist popped in for a visit yesterday, and she was describing the shocking effects that area had had on Ms. Dorny physically, when she was last down this way... Umhlanga and La Lucia are areas that the seriously wealthy have migrated to, in numbers, and you can therefore guarantee that there are plenty of rich pickings for the home-invading pseudo-NIA Agents... Does the Umhlanga Hospital have a special oncology section, and has the Head Honcho been persuaded to keep the staggering increase in leukemia and tumors under wraps?  That were those figures to be made public, it might cause mass hysteria in the area?
You live out that way, and you haven't been feeling too well lately? Tsk.
The Mast Fighter's extreme physical reactions that kicked in on the very outskirts of that suburb should be regarded as a reliable warning to those inhabitants...  Why it should be worse than say, here in the Zone, I couldn't say, unless there are even more masts and mini base stations dotted about between those luxurious homes...?

LATER at 4.35am

Did you see yesterday's Natal Mercury Front Page headline?  Bridge Crash Lawyer Free.... Did you read how the murderous bastard Koobashan Naicker was granted bail and allowed to continue driving nogal?  This time I can't point a finger at the unfortunate Magistrate Anita Govender, as for some reason it was a different Law Official who had treated the Criminal so kindly yesterday... *vomits...
See now, if there was any merit at all to the Look & Listen surveillance technology, they'd have enough dirt on that scumbag to lock him up and throw away the key..  You might want to ask yourselves why the more obvious criminals are treated with kid gloves, and the Due Process excuse generally trotted out?

After all, you hopped on board and sacrificed your own young adult kids to this grandiose Trojan Horse Project, so why aren't you seeing results?  Why are the special treatment areas of correctional facilities not groaning under the weight of the FatCats as they shuffle off to jail?  The Experiment authors will simply stall and stall again, until it's too late, and the entire country is wired and controlled by those that appear to prize the Criminal element above rubies...
Man, it must be getting awkward out there.. You're hosting a big party next month and you don't know whether to invite Shauwn or Sifiso, or not? If they're left off the guest list and feel slighted in any way, could it ultimately come back to bite you? How many known Fraudsters attended Vivian's bash at uShaka and requested that the celebrity photographer point his/her camera elsewhere under Reddy's express orders?
Was the toothy ex-City Manager tucked away in a corner of the marquee, munching on a celery stick, as he threatened the roving cameraman with litigation?   Was Sifiso Zulu let out in time to attend that Do, along with the Mpisanes?  Were guests told ahead of time that it was a private affair and to keep their mouths shut?  Awkward is putting it mildly, when so many socialites and wealthy businessmen have fraud charges hanging over their well-groomed heads...

I'd been out on the front verandah the night before last when I'd noticed some sort of smoke drifting in clouds off of the new spotlight the GW installed on that corner.. WTF?  I'd heckled the old man into taking a dekko and he'd seen it as well.. It's tucked right up under the eaves, and there's no way it could've gotten so much as a drop of rain on it, so why that weird smoke right there?
There'd been a fairly hectic electrical storm earlier, and I remember turning to the GW at one point and saying that I could smell brimstone, although that odd experience had lasted for a nano-second at the height of some really wicked claps of thunder...
The smoke didn't include the twin spotlight either, just inches away, and the air around that one was perfectly clear... No whiff of burning wires or anything to hint at the reason for that most peculiar phenomenon, and as I recall it was still smoking when I'd left to go to bed... *thinking, thinking, thinking.....
I'd taken a couple of shots to see whether I could capture anything out of the ordinary, but they were all a fail due to that shocking pink orb that often appears when you shoot a light head-on...  A seemingly insignificant matter that might well have a logical explanation... *shrugs...

BTW, the GW finally got around to having the Polo's noisy brakes repaired at great cost, and he'd ended up taking it down to Glenwood to be fixed by a fellow whose home will already be wired to the max.. Am I right, Vanessa?  The fellow is forever holding forth on Letters pages in the press, which should've earned him the unfortunate role as a Hacker's Hub down that end, for all the new Recruits to go practise their laser gaming skills?   Is he doomed to end up a regular visitor to the Mayville Oncology Centre?  Time will no doubt tell..

LATER at 6.45am

My prematurely grizzled little dog had been curled up on the sofa when I'd taken myself back to bed at 5.30am, in the hopes of catching a quick nap... At 5.35am Sophie had uttered an angry strangulated bark and I'd gotten back up to find her rubbing her head frantically against the sofa cushions...
Any chance you could re-direct at least some of your contempt towards the Animal Abuser at No. 6?  Silently mind you, but it would be nice to know that at least a few of you are seriously repelled by his mischief...
Peace..

---oOo---

Saturday 9th March 2013 at 9.48am.