Finest hour...
(begun Monday 5th August at 5am..)
My first wake-up call this morning had been at 1.20am, and was literally to die for...The Landy owner? My Excellent Neighbour? The Sadist himself, trying to scramble my head? Frankly, I don't give a damn, and you can wake me like that every day...
At 1.30am a chopper had nipped over the Freeway into Sydenham, and I didn't hear it return...
It had been 3.55am when next I'd surfaced, and the earlier pleasantness had been abandoned for the Knives to the Back frequency, and my little dog was given such a jolt next to me, that she was still shaking her ears frantically, a minute after she'd reached the lounge...
I'd eventually sat down here at the desk around 5am, and for a change had been allowed to sit and gaze at the stars out of the window, before at 5.15am, I was engulfed in the familiar heatwave.. Right now they've settled for a wall of the Backfire frequency to aid the thieving of my scribbles.. Shame...
Trapped as I am between my Good Neighbour's zinc-roofed booster shed, and my Owner's three aircon units, it's no wonder they have my eyes watering...
It had been around midday yesterday when I'd gone up to open the gates for my old man, and he'd called me over to look at the Polo's windscreen.. How do you think that happened? he'd asked, and I didn't bother venturing an opinion... Overnight, a six-inch crack now runs above the driver's side windscreen wiper, and the sun caught a brilliant little star of light dead-centre... Not a rock, that's for sure.. Something sharp and pointy, like the corner of a chisel head perhaps? Agent Balliram? It had been in the early hours of yesterday morning that I'd suggested that judging by the noise, my Controller may have been indulging in a spliff or two...
Who did he have administer that blow to the Polo's windscreen, as it sat parked on our driveway? Eunice's useful young roommate, or one of Balliram's smaller and more athletic companions?
That act of malice is a sure sign that the Sadist's frustrated rage got the better of him once again, only on a rather more costly scale than having those sparkplug wires tampered with...Who was it on the graveyard shift just after midnight yesterday? Who'd been watching as the GW's car was once again deliberately damaged, apart from the security guard inside No. 11, who'd 'missed' the Polo's window being smashed a few months back?
A demonstration to remind you that it's by no means just the mischief that can now be achieved over the powerlines to your home, and never was...
Putting the screws on, Balliram? Care to think back to your delight when Allen Spence first gave you the means to invade our privacy?
Are you still thrilled by the absolute control you have over our lives, or have you come to regret the country seeing you for what you really are? A cheap, cowardly bully, easily manipulated by the Experiment Planners for their own ends? A so-called Expert in the Field, who's only real claim to fame are the mind-boggling levels of girlish spite and cruelty he employs against his innocent victims...
I'd suggest that long after I'm gone, his self-generated crap is set to stick to him, for all the days of his life, and he'll be remembered, not for any genius at employing the advanced technology, but for his inability to deal with a 67 year-old Simpleton...
When Balliram had his finest hour, and had captured me trapped in the headlights for posterity, which Wag among you had recognised me for a self-gratifying old cow, and had suggested the use of the Pleasure frequency? Rezah? Jannie? WTF had they hoped to achieve? That I would change my tune and fall over the Fiend to please him?
Maybe if you'd restricted the use of this head-scrambling frequency to Agent Balliram alone, you may have achieved the desired results, but of course that hasn't been the case at all... In the continuing effort to water down the brute's culpability, any number of nearby recruits may barrel on in to ours and reduce me to a quivering wreck, and I've come to regard the Sadist quite rightly as the Administrator of the more painful of these assaults... Met ander woorde, another stunning FAIL all round...
The GW's cracked windscreen is an expensive price to pay, but it certainly goes a long way to confirming the corruption of those behind the Smart City/PRISM technology, and the criminals employed to do their bidding...
It's gone 6am, and the sky grows light, and I must be off.. No, not back down to the crypt, you cheeky buggers, but I have a Sector Policing Meeting tonight, that will no doubt give me something interesting to share with you.. Cheers...
LATER AT 6.45am
A passing thought...
Would your wives, sisters, or daughters share with you any strange, if pleasurable experiences they encountered overnight in their beds? My bet would be a no... That they'd be embarrassed, and write it off as some sort of dream... So tell me this - How would you know if Balliram and his tight-knit band of Fanbois are sliding into other nearby homes in the dead of night, to employ their latest frequency on somewhat more comely victims, than this fugly abomination? Why would you think for one moment this isn't exactly what's taking place? You know the Pervert's history, and that what Agent Balliram wants, Agent Balliram gets.. You've all seen me, and that should be more than enough to tell you that my Master is going to be seeking fairer game at every given opportunity...
Instead of shutting down in the safe and comfortable denial, you should give it some thought, and remind yourselves that it's you thats allowed this to happen, by your steadfast cowardly silence.. Cest la vie...
To be continued.....
