Tuesday, June 03, 2014

Still my own worst enemy.
(begun Sunday 1st June at 6am)

Could the quantum wireless technology be used to affect the outcome of the Comrades? Let's face it, where there's money, there's corruption, and I shouldn't be surprised were there some pretty hefty wagers swirling about out there.
Were an Operative to unleash a particularly high level of the frequency that appears to affect male's knees, at various chosen points along the route, would any of those top runners go down and stay down?
Will that theory be tested out later on today at the 45th Cutting intersection, using those newly erected wirelessed lights? How long before someone designs a knee-supporter that contains some sort of wireless repellant/deflector, along the lines of sisalation, to ensure that the tissue will escape the worst of the fall-out as they cross the more heavily-wired points of the route?

While you cling to the belief that Roux's contribution is indeed perfectly safe, it's Petruccione's side of the deal that renders it so deadly, only no-one will admit as much. Do you find it impossible to get your head around the idea that any such wickedness has been designed and created deliberately?
Invisible, and leaving no concrete evidence that it's the cause of your crippling pain? When you're finally sent for a scan, only to discover that the cartilage surrounding the offending joint has simply melted away magically, what will you do? Lay a charge against your nearby quantum Area Controller? Hah!
As you know, I can only speak for myself and the near-decade long experiences I've had at the hands of these power-drunk thugs. Cest la vie.

LATER at 10.08am

If I hadn't been sweeping the driveway up top earlier, and seen her heading out, the sight of her stable-door standing open, overlooking ours might have lulled me into a false sense of security. As it is, I can't help but wonder who keeps me company out here on the front verandah as I scribble. Her eldest perhaps? Dutifully practising her skills at employing Petruccione's computerised laser program in our home? Quite possibly that door is open to allow Someone else nearby to utilise the powerpoints in godschild's kitchen, as an added boost for the games my Monitors have grown so partial to.

My tea and jam bun were kindly brought out here to me at around 10am, at precisely which moment an overpowering stench of fresh turd had assailed both of our noses..
As juvenile as that was, I'll skip past the Teen at No. 10 and say that it has all the characteristics displayed so frequently by my Master and his college-educated Henchman, and that little bit of foul nonsense would've been considered a fine amusement.
If, on the other hand, those two sterling examples of quantum 'Guardians' are elsewhere deployed at this time of day, they have any number of blindly loyal and desperate-to-please Recruits nearby, who will do as they're told.
I've not seen godschild's two big dogs at their kitchen door in a long while, and it would appear they're blocked off from that area. Why? Ongoing sewage problems involving the outlet pipes? Is that little section of their property being employed to create specifically timed eruptions of the stench of sewage, across to ours? How sad if this were so...

Monday 2nd June at 5.30am

I'd had an sms mid-morning yesterday, inviting me to visit Cottage No. 5, and I'd done exactly that. I'd only stayed for an hour or so, but it had been more than enough to discover that my fears had been groundless, and that Sue the Book didn't have a clue about the quantum Project after all. My paranoia and inability to communicate coherently were totally to blame, and I figure my subsequent relief and happiness are on record for all to see. Her youngster a Recruit? Ah - The jury's still out on that one, but I'm certainly not going to let it affect my friendship with his mama, either way.

I'd been leaving Sue's place at lunchtime, when a passerby had greeted me by name, and we'd chatted briefly. Turns out that she's the Paramedic's wife from a few doors up, and I was delighted after all this time to be able to put a face to her email addie.
She'd kindly said how brave I'd been to take on that intruder some months back, and in retrospect I have to wonder whether she'd actually seen the stolen footage of that messy fracas, and whether she was familiar with seeing my face on a family member's laptop or PC, as is our Missus Kazee from higher up the street. Whether true or not, I find I don't mind in the least, as she seemed to be a really nice person.

Would you care to step into my worn and tatty footwear and tell me how you would've gone about things differently? That between 2004 and 2014, you'd have kept your nose to the ground in search of the source of yours and your nearby friend's physical pain, and the constant mischiefs that befell us, despite no shred of proof or support?
How fortunate I'd been in 2012, to capture that single pale green sphere hanging up on the wall above our courtyard. Everything had gradually fallen into place after that, and although my hundreds of photos, showing spheres inside every corner of my home wouldn't stand up in a court of law, it's certainly been enough for me to attempt to sound the alarm.
Who will monitor these Monitors? Their own nearby neighbours is the answer to that one, for, oppie ou einde, you'll all be spying on each other, like it or not.

It's raining out, and there's no sign of daybreak.. I'd been woken at 2.50am by an over-enthusiastic 'Guardian' and the huge and hateful ache to both hips. I'd stirred and the pain had refocused to below the small of my back. Is that red rough patch of skin above my butt-crack back again? Visible proof that the concentrated laser attacks are in fact anything but perfectly safe, and that they will. over time, melt away the protective tissue around the area of choice.
Fallen among thieves? Why, indeed I have, and I defy you to provide as much entertainment as I have, bristling as I do, with combined outrage and fascination..
Will the ex-Sherwood lad stand up for me, or is it all about his cover being blown?
Has he come to recognise the warning signs for himself? The 'theft' of cable in his own street, that he wasn't warned about in advance?
The sudden increased heart rate? The sharp jabs of pain to his good knee?

You're going to spread the word among those that you trust, as quick as you can? Take care out there on this soft grey morning, and FFS be KIND.

Monday 2nd June 2014 at 8.30am