Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Taking the baton?
(begun Sunday 8th June at 9.40am)

There's a patch of bright winter sunshine out in a corner of the front garden, so I took the dogs with me for a brief thaw-out session. Five minutes after settling on the plastic lounger, the endless frequency whine in my ears had changed suddenly. Another five minutes, and it had changed again.
And yet I'm willing to bet that if asked, our Laz up at Sydenham SAPS would continue to insist that there were no Monitors on duty when that intruder had appeared in our yard at the end of March.

If I hadn't been so distracted by a brick being bounced off my head, or my gran's walking stick being snapped as he'd hit my skull with such force, would I have heard the frequencies changing in my hearing, as my invisible audience gathered to watch the fun? Affirmative? Another blatant lie, this one perpetuated by someone who, to all accounts and purposes, is there to protect the community from harm. Even if he'd missed the Live Show, his buddies Balliram and Freddie would've patched the footage through to him pronto. He certainly hadn't been the first cop to arrive at our gates. When I'd seen him straggle in for appearance sake, I'd pretty much told him to bugger off, which he had, as far as I recall.

Monday 9th June at 4.20am

At some point yesterday I'd offended google by typing in all three of them in a row. Jecholia Holdings, D.D. Projects, and Roseann.cc. What had I hoped for? Some sort of common link? Maybe Mr. Dawood's attorneys could shed more light on the matter?
I'd also hopped over to see whether Narandas had had his FB cover picture airbrushed, as I'd suggested he do. Nada, zip, zilch. It's gone. Probably still out there, but somehow blocked from my view.
Who was it that had intercepted and blocked our animated chat like that? The fella had been holding forth bigtime, and I don't see him cutting himself off in mid-tirade, so who the heck had provided that sudden Error message in red and why?

It was already afternoon when I'd stumbled over that thread on the Sydenham Community News FB page. The one where the lady said her family had been involved in an MVA, and that their ambo had been turned away from King George? I'd scrolled on down through the comments to find that our Freddie was doing his concerned and respectable citizen impersonation.
A mild-mannered numbers cruncher who donates to charity in full view of that group, and who's always willing to lend a hand to his community? Which of the many religious institutions here in Sydenham is fortunate to have his patronage?
Arthur's church? The one over at Bechet College perhaps?

Hop with me now, back a few years, to when the mischief being caused to the Labrats here on this stretch was at it's peak, although at that stage I hadn't been able to put a name to the technology being used to invade our privacy.
We'd been up top, chatting briefly on the verge, (Missus Balliram can correct me here if I'm wrong) and she'd told me happily that her husband was now teaching, and that he was also working at all the major hospitals. I'd not asked her what it was he was tutoring or doing at those institutions, but had expressed my admiration and left it at that.
Naturally I'd gone on to speculate correctly on my blog that he was giving hacking classes to the locals, on the art of employing Petruccione's quantum laser computer program, and that he would've been ferreting about in the hospital records under the guise of an IT Security Specialist.

So maybe you can imagine my delight yesterday, on discovering that Mr. Cochrane too, is heavily involved with medical institutions, and is in touch with the Admin at King George Hospital at least. The same field, Frederick? IT Security? Ooops! Sort of puts the clincher on all my allegations, does it not? That you're Operative Balliram's right-hand man, and would do anything for him, including take the baton and continue to make our lives miserable?
Truth be told (and it is, here), I'm as fond of you and the wife as I am of all of the unfortunate quantum Puppets that surround me. Sadly, that's not a sentiment you share, however hard I try to reach your cooked head.

I'm big enough to say that I appreciate the efforts gone to, to adjust the feed to our new freezer, although having to resort to cable 'theft' was a tad over the top. As far as I'm concerned, that appliance is now operating as it should, despite the often laboured sound of it's little motor. Unfortunately the GW still refuses to believe it's problems have anything to do with the power feed to that plug, and he insists that he's still on the hunt for a suitable temperature guage.
The hairdryer? Did your good buddy suggest that sufficient time had elapsed since he used to spike it for your collective entertainment, and that it was once again fair game?
The intermittent buzzing on our television that has begun this week was your idea or his?

You're giving it to me on a plate my boy, and I swear it's time for you to sit up and smell the roses. I'll not dispute that I'm trapped in my perspex box, until my no doubt messy end. That you and your buddy OWN me fully, one way or another, whether your wives like it or not.
Are you comfortable being tarred with the same brush as Psycho Sam at No. 6, or can we cut out at least some of the crap before your mask falls away completely, and everyone sees you for what you've become?

This astounding technology is a frigging trap, and be you college-educated or simply a low-life Cracker, it was always destined to suck you in and cook your heads to the point where reason has left the building.
Give us a wave and a smile next time you see me OUTSIDE my home, and make a real effort to control your often petty and cruel behaviour, and we're cool. Too late? You've taken offence, just like your erstwhile Tutor, and you're going to take great pleasure in finishing me off? Well don't say I didn't try, dude... Leave my animals alone Frederick, and quit the increased jabs to my skull while you're ahead. (earache on going to bed last night, again in the wee hours, and yet again when I went back to bed at 5.30am?) You're abusing the power that's been given to you, on a grand scale, whether my stupidity irritates you or not.

Those weird drops of moisture on my face, from out of a clear sky? What if they weren't in the atmosphere itself, but were contained in those artificially created wind-funnels that hit me both indoors and out? What if those drops that had spattered faintly onto my face were due to the wind funnels aimed at me on those three separate occasions outside?
I've said more than once that water appears to be vital to this quantum laser/wireless technology, although I never could figure out exactly why.

Monday 9th June 2014 at 8.07am.