Under a cloud.
(begun around 2am on Thursday 3rd April.)
Was that a collective sigh of relief at my gentle sepia-toned memories of yesteryear, or was I mistaken? Easier for you to stomach than the brutal realities of the present?
Whether you choose to regard me as stark-raving bonkers, or you find merit in much of what I say, matters little. I'm going to put it down here whether you like it or not. Those of you that haven't yet met the wireless weaponry that goes under the guise of Sutcliffe's Smart City Project, need to learn to recognise it's capabilities, and fast.
You need to be able to tell the difference between the pain caused by a so-called natural ailment, and the erratic jabs administered remotely by a quantum warrior residing nearby.

The GameWrecker had stepped back into the lounge last night to say he could smell raw sewage.. No surprises there, as the pong has been hanging about for a few days already.
I was on Cloud 9 by ten past 8pm, and had yet to fall asleep when, fifteen minutes later, one of my Monitors had gone straight in for my throat. Such keenness and dedication to the Brief was seriously unbecoming, and I'd reared up and logged the assault, and whoever it had been, had scuttled back under their rock and allowed me to nod off properly... Oops?

You'd think that by now I'd be hardened to it, but no. It's the avid enthusiasm that I find so disturbing.. Just who the f*ck had assumed the sound of my regular breathing meant I was lights out, and who was it that had leapt at me with such delight? A 12-year old monster in the making, or a seriously cooked-in-the-head Controller, who'd had a bad day, and simply couldn't wait to vent?
I woke suddenly at 12.55am to find both my forearms aching savagely, and the latest agenda became all too apparent..
Work the old cow over, inch by bloody inch, until she's nothing but a bag of bones held together by a layer of skin and fat? Cook off the cartilage in it's entirety?
A glass monkey, if you will.. A monkey that to all intents and purposes can still lug her pushmower up the 52 stairs with apparent ease, but who will crumble and break under just one well-aimed laser beam, at any given point in time?

I'd still been awake at 1.30am, when Rocky had given a single angry bark next door, at precisely the moment I'd taken a fierce jab to my skull..
He'd barked a couple more times after that, but he'd sounded more puzzled than cross. Caught in mid-shift-change out in the yard? Freddie, was that you? Adjusting the airwaves before packing it in and leaving me to your chum to 'manage?' That initial jolt to my head had been swiftly followed by the ache to my jaw, ear, and neck, never mind the sudden deep pinch to my lower spine.. That did it for me, and I'd rolled off the bed, and here I am...

It'll never happen to you? Maybe not, but I figure if you're reading this, you may yet come to recognise when you're being assaulted remotely, or when you have a genuine ailment... When your reliable GP looks baffled by your symptoms, should maybe sound the first alarm..
A decade ago your white blood cell count would probably have given the game away, but it's too late for that now.. Like I've said so many times before, every Blood Bank across the country will now have Project puppets in place, and one call is all it would take to have your results fudged...

That is of course, if you ignore the warning signs, as the director of St. Phil's had done, to his cost... Am I giving my Area Controller too much credit, and he'd played no part whatsoever in Fabian's demise? After all, St. Phil's is a fair way off from No. 6 Harris Crescent.. You need to ask yourselves where my fine and well-connected friend was deployed at the time of Mr. Carey's sudden illness...
Was he still visiting Sydenham SAPS regularly on a daily basis, or had he already been permitted to jump the fence and join the purported Good Guys up at the Ridge Road Wireless station?

Fabian's office was well within reach of the grubby fingers up at Dodge City, and I've no doubt the aircon units would've been used to funnel in copious amounts of the frequency that finished off the Director so quickly.
The daily doses he was subjected to, would've been compounded once he returned to his home in Mary Road at the end of each day.. A home that is in fact within easy reach of the Killing Machine next door.. A hop, skip, and jump to the enormous light over on the Convent outbuilding HERE, next to the playing field, and he's just one jump away from Mary Road and his possible target...
Far be it for me to give Agent Balliram credit where it's not due, but the probability has to be factored in, whether you like it or not...

It's now 3.05am, and the morning star has just bobbed up behind what used to be the nunnery over the way.. There's a huge amount of power running out of that little corner, and I don't envy anyone who still occupies that section of St. Theresa's..
Check out Mr. Spence's big boxes HERE, that sit near the foot of the back stairs, and THESE odd box-lights that adorn the edge of the nunnery roof, if you would question my claims.. (Man, that star is moving ridiculously fast.)

Vote ACDP? When so many of the seriously Devout here in Sydenham appear to have lost their way completely? When they've allowed themselves to be bamboozled by a thinly disguised druglord into giving up their right to privacy and good health, and invading the sanctity of their neighbour's homes on the pretext of somehow guarding them from evil? I think not. I would rather go with the party that openly supports that dirty old man, and that willingly accepts his filthy lucre, than one that pretends it's hands are clean when they're not..
Those who head off sanctimoniously to their place of worship once a week to cleanse their sins, and who return home to practise unimaginable cruelties on their fellow man, using a technology so advanced that they will never be held accountable...

How's it going over there in Capell and Renaud, Dom? People booking in for knee ops, left, right, and centre? Loads of what appear to be Carpal Tunnel Syndrome cases? Diabetics being hit the hardest?
You still keep a few of the Barns Road Field overheads active during the day? How useful have they proven to be, although the older folk on your stretch must be taking some serious physical strain by now?

It's now 3.29am, and seemingly out of nowhere, that solid bank of cloud has hidden the stars, and the wind has arrived in gusts...
You should know that the years of fun and games spent entertaining the quantum army troops in ours are pretty much over. Oh sure. They'll mostly keep up the pretense during daylight hours, but comes the dark and that all falls away...
The escalated and repeated assaults to the lymphglands in my neck should give you some idea of the now serious intent being carried out in our home...
While the GameWrecker's cold sweats and nausea have wisely ceased, he'd remarked last night that his back had been playing up. Remarkable then, that I too was limping yesterday, due to a pinch in my lower spine? Toying with the labrats, are we?

While the Poor Sod next door has proven to be the Poster Boy for all that is wicked and wrong with this world-wide experiment, she could've been his complete opposite. As it is, she says they're doing a runner.. Would that I could change her mind, but I suspect she's being buffetted by Forces beyond her control, and evil will surely triumph with their departure...
Unless... Ag, who am I kidding? There's no unless, and this astonishing magic is set to swamp you all, oppie ou einde...
What does he tell you Al? That I'm exaggerating? That he's simply trying to destroy my remaining eardrum, and if it triggers something unmentionable in my throat, so be it?
That I irritate him beyond measure when I constantly mock his squeaky enhancers, and it serves me right?

May I remind you to be kind to one another?
Peace..

---oOo---

Thursday 3rd April 2014 at 3.48pm.