Saturday, October 12, 2013

A different approach..?
(begun Sunday 13th October at 4.35am..)


Do you think it'll work?  I've absolutely no idea, but it's always worth a shot... V insists that it too is a fungus, and of course he would know, being as how he introduced it to my garden in the first place..
Anyways, I duly made up the mixture of salt, vinegar, and dishwashing liquid, and spent a fairly theraputic hour or so, trudging about with my spray bottle, doing at least some of the walkways and rock walls...
I'd been up by the garage around 9am, when I'd seen the cherry picker out of the corner of my eye, as they'd hastily lowered the bucket from No. 16's pole... I'd hustled back downstairs and fetched the Panasonic to record the happy event, and by the time I'd puffed my way back up, the top half of their kitchen door had been opened...
As I'd switched the camera on, the lens had zoomed out to it's fullest and jammed.  Hau!  Someone clearly knew my habits, and was exercising a little remote camera control?
I'm a bit of a pro at dealing with that particular nasty trick after all this time, and I'd fixed it and gotten the pictures I'd wanted in double-quick time...

Will I be heading over to Sue the Book's at No. 5, to take pictures of the amaShova cycle race later on?  For the life of me I can't remember if I'd been standing on her front lawn watching last year's Comrades or the cycle race, but whichever it was, Agent Balliram had give a fine display of the remote control of my camera, which I'd blogged at the time..  I seem to think that lens had zoomed in and out like a crazy thing to Sue's astonishment, just before it said my batteries were dead, and I'd had to bustle back over to ours for fresh ones..  I'd managed to get the pictures I'd wanted just before that fun had begun, so when he'd nuked the brand new batteries as well, and the camera had simply died, I'd headed home chuckling...

The GameWrecker had finally called the Fault line on Friday, to report that poles 4-12 hadn't come back on since Monday's monstrous surges, and there they were just a day later, repairing the problem... As far as I could tell the bucket had to go up each individual pole before they left, so you can bet there's been some minor adjustments done at the same time...
Was Balliram's Graduate shaken by the whole thing?  Did it take a great deal of reassurance on his part to insist that these things happen, and that no real harm was done, before they climbed back on that horse and resumed their monitoring duties?
To those of you who, since last week's Carte Blanche aired, mistakenly think this is all about Muslim fundamentalists, far from it... It's about ordinary upright citizens being brainwashed into behaving like criminals, and that includes all denominations, and certainly isn't restricted to our Islamic community...

I'd had a chat to Sue's kid a couple of days ago, and he'd reiterated that he'd seen a foot-long flame jump out of one of their wall plugs, and you have to wonder what tragedy might have occurred if he'd not been around at the time, and it had been left to his ninety-year old bedridden gran and her Carer to cope...
It makes you think, does it not?
Nine years since we were first rigged up as the trial zone for Sutcliffe's quantum laser/wireless surveillance system, and one would assume that by now it would be operating without a hitch.. One would assume wrong.
Do you get quite how easy this system has made it for the criminal element to achieve their nefarious goals?  Did you read of the fire at Metro File in Westmead the night before last?   See now, if there was any real intent that good could be achieved using this astonishingly advanced technology, it should be a simple matter for the PTB to check who is the Area Controller for that section, and to begin ferreting about in their bank accounts...

Was someone given a little cash injection to surge that particular plug to the point where a flame would catch the highly flammable contents of that particular section of the company and destroy the files for good?  I vaguely recall another such instance of important documents going up in smoke at an office block at where? Mt. Edgecombe? River Horse Valley?  The details escape me, but I do know that it was to certain criminal's advantage to have had those files crisped and cooked at the time...
Sadly, I don't think you get it... You're going to continue to fall for all the red-herrings provided simply to distract you.. The White Widows, and the appalling corruption by the latest FatCat Minister in the Ruling Party, will steer your rage and disgust towards specific targets, just as the Project Planners would have it...

All the while, the ranks of this enormous army are growing by the day, as the young and not-so-young in every street and suburb across the land are enrolled and taught the basics of hacking into their neighbour's homes, on the premise that they will ultimately ferret out the corrupt and save South Africa...
Your sons and daughters have no real prospect of ever landing a decent job under the current Government, so why not let them learn a craft that will ultimately benefit the entire population?
All well and good, except for the fact that their initiation rites involve committing a crime straight off, however minor it's made out to be by their Enrolment Officer...
The situation is such that extreme measures are required to combat the evil that flourishes across the land, and hacking into your neighbour's home without their knowledge or consent can't really be construed as a crime, when the goal is such a noble one? Pffft... and so it begins...

Blah, blah, blah, hey Jannie? *studies the vodacom Strategist.. Beat Joe Public to a shell of his former self, through the use of carefully engineered crime and corruption on a grand scale, and the buggers will literally fall over one another to join the ranks of the Yellow Army?  Once those often rudderless recruits become au fait with the computerised laser program and find themselves sitting in a nearby neighbour's home, unseen and unheard, they're hooked for life...
Once they graduate to employing the bouquet of hidden frequencies against their targets, there's no going back, and whatever passed for moral integrity is steadily chipped away and lost forever...
I'm talking about the Good Guys here, folks...  Those that promise you they're gaining the upper hand, and will soon have the numbers they require to eradicate the rot throughout the country...

Oh dear.  I'll repeat ad nauseum that you've been had, and that the practises you're required to carry out as a Monitor for the Data Collector's Army ensure that you become every bit as corrupt as the worst of the Trough Feeders now being paraded before you on a daily basis.. After all, why would an honest and upright citizen attempt to nuke my camera's batteries remotely, just as I prepared to take a picture of a Muni cherry-picker?
Don't get my knickers in a knot, as it's simply a part of the training necessary to rise through the ranks, and they have to practise their new-found skills on someone?
Then why not try them out on the known drug dealer in the next road, or the Seller up at Blue Horizon?  They're not prone to brandishing a recording device as I do so frequently, thereby providing the opportunity to hone those particular skills?

Ask yourselves whether we're criminals, and whether we deserve all this painful attention, and I figure you'll find that's a no.. Unless of course you're one of those smarmy buggers who considers stupidity a crime?  TB?  Have you yourself caused any 'electrical' fires during your rise through the ranks?  Unavoidable?  Try telling that to the innocents who lost their assets in the ensuing conflagration.. Innocents who have no hope of getting any form of compensation from the crooks operating the system...
For the umpteenth time I will insist that the line between good and bad has now been so deliberately blurred that soon you'll not be able to tell the difference at all..

LATER at 7.40am

The amplified and jarring tones of a Marshall urging the cyclists to slow down as they fly down Black Hill, began at about 6.15am, and have barely stopped since then..
The GameWrecker's just been through to say that judging by the amount of ambulance sirens nearby, a rider or two had failed to heed those noisy warnings...
When I'd gone out front earlier to feed the birds, I'd found the message I'd been left on the front path, straight away..
A neatly cut segment of orange sucked clean and deposited almost at the foot of our verandah steps HERE...
The 'Intelligence' Officer next door had a few of his chommies around last night, and the thud of his sound system had kicked off fairly early in the evening..

It's doubtful many of them were paying much attention to the rugby at all, as there's a great deal juicier entertainment to be had sitting in the Knob's bunker, and I've no doubt the nearby lines were humming as he and his fawning acolytes hopped into homes nearby...
Was Eunice's young co-tenant urged from his warm bed in the wee hours, to deposit that bright orange wedge on our front path?  You can bet on it.. My Master's fanbois are easily as craven as their idol, and would've browned their pants at the mere thought of carrying out such a heroic mission personally..
Besides, that useful little Wall Jumper has performed his gymnastics over our walls so often, it would've taken him but a second to achieve...

Anyone else notice how little it's actually rained since the appalling build-up of heat last week?  Although the animals had needed a quick rub-down at some point last night, the yard appears bone dry this morning... Are they saving the torrential floods to a point where they'll wreak the most damage, perhaps?
One can only wait and see...
Meanwhile, I suggest you make the most of this deliciously cool grey day while you can.. (That goes for you too, Mr. Dramat, whatever the weather is like up your way.. Is it now your turn to hear the chickens clucking, as they fly home to roost?)
Peace..

---oOo---

Sunday 13th October 2013 at 9.13am