Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Rome IS burning...
(begun Wednesday 23rd October at 3.25am..)


Someone was really dead-keen this morning..  Man, I'd barely stirred just before 3am, when the Telkom Warbler had kicked off from down by the mulberry tree... They'd given me a minute to focus before nailing me with one massive knife to the cancer..  I was still protesting out loud when they'd activated one of the pleasanter variations of the Fiddler's frequency, and I briefly forgot why I'd wanted to leave my bed...
I see I've written nothing on my log overnight, but I recall some hectic unpleasantness anyways..
A really nasty and painful variation of that same frequency, followed shortly after by someone snivelling into their pillow?  Something involving my eyes as well?  They'd been cooking, and I'd touched them and recoiled at the pain?   Of course this is all 'virtual' crud, and not really physically taking place at all... My fat lumpy old ass, it isn't...
Hell, it's your perogative to decide whether the attentions I'm paid overnight are real or imagined, but you'd be a right prat to write them off as fantasy... Those mysterious infections that had left my doctor baffled when Agent Balliram had first begun 'testing' his remote powers using the Smart City technology, should've been more than enough to convince you that applied repeatedly, those remote assaults can indeed cause you lasting physical damage...

I'd been up by the garage at around noon yesterday, in time to watch an amiable and solid-looking bloke arrive at No. 11's gates and call out.. The extremely nervous-looking young lady in her Security guard uniform had emerged from the house, and with several furtive sidelong looks in my direction, had let the chap in... I'd raised my hand and greeted the fellow and was give a pleasant enough reply...
I've been stewing on those frequent comings and goings for a while now, so I went down and sent our Fred a text to say maybe he should get the cops to visit No. 11, and look for the stuff that was stolen from his last Sunday...
A typically predictable over-the-top reaction on my part?  Maybe, but I figure we've all heard of how an abandoned house can be used as a centre of operations for mischief-makers in an area...

After sending that sms things got a wee bit wierd... The Accountant had called me soon after and had said thanks for the suggestion but that the cops had said the guards at No. 11 were giving them some useful information.. Really?  If I've got it right, it was apparently the guard on duty this past Sunday, with their perfect view of Fred's front gate, who had told SAPS it had been a silver-grey Audi Reg. NJ70--4 that had managed to get the gate open before reversing in and loading the trunk with the Accountant's possessions...
There'd supposedly also been a silver grey Merc hovering nearby throughout that exercise...
Now, which of the talented AmDram directors up on the Hill and thought it a lark to introduce that Audi to their latest production?  Any ideas, Laz?

The dogs?  Fred suspects they'd sprayed poor Butch with Doom to silence him, and said the animal had been seriously off-colour for two days afterwards... Our Fred can believe what he likes, but I remain unconvinced, as the foot traffic into No 11 takes place at all hours, and is not restricted to just the 6am and 6pm shift changes...
The GameWrecker subsequently did a search through my CPF Minutes, and bingo!  There were four separate mentions of the silver grey Audi, going right back to July 2012, although they were from all over, and not Sherwood specifically... Driven by foreign nationals who are ex-soldiers, they're considered so dangerous that Sydenham SAPS won't confront them?   Hau!  And now suddenly they're here, and helping themselves to my neighbour's possessions on one of the extremely rare occasions that No. 12 stood empty?  Yeah, right!

While the large number of standard vehicles that trundle in and out of Kasim's little feeder road down at No. 2 to visit the DRC tenants, is fascinating in itself, I'd have to say that pale-skinned professionals aside, there's a similar amount of foot-traffic going in and out of No. 11...
A house which, apart from a single uniformed guard on duty, supposedly stands empty until such time as that rear bank is properly re-inforced...
How strategically useful to use one or both of those properties as base-camps for engineered mischief, hey Balliram?  Just a call away, and you can have someone jump our wall to crack the Polo's windscreen like that, or smash the passenger window HERE?  Or even something as simple as driving a nail into one of those tyres?

I'll say it again. There isn't an inch of our street that isn't monitored and watched, and that's a fact, and however hard they try to prove otherwise, they're lying...  Did I not say what precarious lives we lead at present?  The GW sends me an 11 minute warning when he's finished shopping and starts to head home, and sometimes I'll go up and have the gates open for him.. I was set to go up in the dark a couple of evenings ago, and was waiting for his sms to come in, when he rang the bell at the top. WTF?  I checked my brick and it had turned itself off..  A small matter, but for once I knew that it had two bars left and couldn't have shut down without some remote assistance...  See how easy it is to cause mischief?  Balliram could just have easily had muggers emerge from the dark by No. 11's gates to accost my old man as he'd gotten out of the car to unlock the gates himself, and with my phone safely shut down I'd be none the wiser...
Once again I've no doubt you'll roll your collective eyes at my insistence that the Area Controller at No. 6 is Head of Operations when it comes to crime in this section, but I ask you, have I been wrong so far? Nope..

Did I mention that the Thursday before last I'd been home from my regular trip out, and had been online when my phone had rung, and it had been Captain Patsa of the Pretoria Hawks just calling to say hi?
I'd been delighted and had waffled on about my appearance on Carte Blanche and in the newspapers, although I'd gotten her unspoken message loud and clear... They're still watching me?  Get in the queue folks.. *chokes...
Could that renewal of our acquaintance be due to a Lt. Col van Rensburg of the DOCU, and his suggestion that I may indeed by involved with Samantha Lewthwaite?  Nothing better to do down there as you sit and twiddle your thumbs, young man, than invent spurious fantasies?

How's our DA Shadow Minister of Police feeling these days?  Still no side-effects from the barrage of monitoring technology that's of a certainty running in her own home?  I guess the only thing that's saving her from the constant flu-like symptoms and painful joints is the fact that her job so often has her out of town...
Were things to change for the worse at any point, she might want to insist on having her white blood cell count checked, among other things..
If I remember rightly that had been the only discrepancy the specialists could find when my VC had come under serious assault over his own powerlines a year or more ago...Oh, I nearly forgot...

The Druglord OWNS the Blood Banks here and in Gauteng, does he not? *waves to the young ex-DA Councillor up in Joey's .. Does Earl have his stooges planted among the technicians at those establishments?  Would it not be a simple matter for him to make a call and have one patient's results swopped for another, if need be?  The opportunities offered by this savagely invasive surveillance technology are endless, and if you can think it, rest assured it can be achieved...

LATER at 4.45am

My cancer protests as the attention is suddenly increased, and a hadeda is disturbed by the change in the airwaves nearby... Did I earn myself a minor reprieve yesterday, for refusing to bite one of the hands that torments me on regular basis?  Farked if I know, but the early evening brutality was strangely kept to a minimum... Sure I had the regular Knives to the Back and Backfire frequency between 5pm and 7.25pm, which had been about when that nasty ache had suddenly arrived in my right ovary area..
Was that roughly the same time that my Area Controller had arrived home from a later-than-usual function, or some sort of shift-change?

LATER at 5.30am

Would the so-helpful and all-seeing security guards at No. 11 be willing to describe who it is that regularly lurks in the wee hours by our streetlight, enjoying a takeout or soft drink?  Someone who also has a taste for Khee San Fruit Plus candy?  A laser-friendly and attractive wrapper that more often than not can be found on our verge next to the sisal plants.. Small enough to go almost unnoticed, but shiny enough to be of assistance to the laser program Users?  I've said it often enough, that when it comes to Sentech's/Petruccione's computerised laser 'game' (not to be confused with Stefanus Roux's astonishing showers of ultra-short beams that seem to fill the air around us) precision is the key...
Clues?  In our case even the street surface has been marked by a long and carefully created 'spillage' of white paint heading up towards No. 18, and I've seen a similar such ruse resorted to on the old main road going up into Cowies Hill.. You'll inevitably find a shiny plastic bottle or two, or a silver foil wrapper strategically placed on your verge, to encourage the laser 'game' users to follow the correct route..

Does the person who lurks most nights on our verge emerge from his base camp at No. 11, and does he return there well before daylight, to catch a kip?
There's not a breath of wind nor a cloud in the sky as I gaze out of the window.. Have a happy day, and
peace..

---oOo---

Wednesday 23rd October 2013 at 8.20am.