Sunday, July 20, 2014

Bullyboy on steroids?
(begun Sunday 20th July at 4.55am)

Am I making any headway at all? Do you at least begin to grasp the ease with which the average Joe may now be controlled, or do you feel that ours is an isolated case, and it would never occur to you or yours, in a million years?

Our iBurst signal was blatantly interfered with for the entire day on Wednesday, and the nonsense had continued when I'd booted up early Thursday morning. By Thursday evening it had finally settled down, and those five vertical lights on the modem had stabilised again, and had stayed steady right up until that 3 hour powercut yesterday morning. (Even as I update my status now at 6.51am Sunday, the modem constantly drops to one light and the main Green light goes white as it's blocked).

Since the power was restored at 12.15pm, our signal has been erratic to put it mildly, and those lights continued to drop down to as few as one or two. I'd connected last night and had watched in fascination as the modem had revealed the obvious remote manipulation from someone nearby.
While simply scrolling through my FB timeline, I'd be permitted as many as four of the five lights, but type something into the google search bar and they'd suddenly drop down to one immediately, and it would take forever to load. There's an even brighter green light just beneath the five vertical lights, and that would turn a flashing white as the signal was being blocked remotely.
It doesn't matter if my words don't make much sense to you, as I'm certain that the tech-minded among you will get the picture immediately..

I'd hopped over to the Carte Blanche FB page, and within seconds that green light was under duress and flashing white like a mad thing. My Shift Admin was clearly agitated and determined I wasn't about to comment anywhere on that page. Why?
I'd gone on to find a recent post from a Shayne of Airdlin Road, Sunningdale, up in Gauteng, who'd been trying to draw Carte Blanche's attention to an enormous and ongoing water leak in their area. Shayne had been without water for three Saturdays in a row, and it was still pouring out unattended, for eleven hours in a row, despite having reported it several times.
It's true. If it weren't for the visible mischief to our internet connection I would most certainly have commented on that post and reassured the poster that the water would be shut off once the congestion on those lines had been cleared, and not before. Whether those residents have fibre to their streetlights already, or not, the inevitable horrifically wasteful run-offs will be vital to Gauteng's version of the quantum Project.

Did you see the pics of that house that burned down at 14 Headingley Avenue in Westville? Apparently the firemen couldn't access the valve on the nearest fire hydrant, and by the time they'd located one that worked, I figure it was too late and the home was razed to the ground. There's to be an enquiry as to why that hydrant was sealed and unusable. There is? Don't hold your breath folks, as my guess is that it's being used to manipulate the Government's fibre network, just as THIS one on my Master's verge is employed, and that fact will never become public knowledge.

I'd gone to bed in a fairly cheerful frame of mind at 9.45pm last night, and had been happy to hear the increasingly rare doef, doef, doef, of my Master's sound system floating from his bunker, and I'd muttered as much out loud. Was it my amiable monologue that had pushed the Poor Sod over the edge sometime later?
At 10.40pm he'd suddenly decided he'd had enough of me, and he'd unleashed his upgraded power on my nether regions without warning.
A double-whammy of what I refer to as the Fabian Carey Colon special, which left the original in the dust, and had me up and wandering about for a while, until the pain had subsided. I'd gone back to bed suitably cowed and subdued.

I'd been sufficiently wide awake after 4am this morning to feel the assortment of new jabs to the back of my neck and a thump dead centre in my chest, before a knife-like pain hit my knee area. That last strike had somehow included the dog, asleep just inches from me, and she'd jerked and whimpered.
So, there you have it. Whether all the residents on this stretch were forced to endure a three hour powercut yesterday morning, simply to adjust the technology to give Agent Balliram and his cohorts even tighter control over our internet connection and our physical well-being, is anyone's guess, but it certainly would appear to be the case.

It's now 5.55m, and as I sit here scribbling at the desk, someone has just gripped me hard on the back of my neck, causing a dull ache to arrive.
Have the lines of communication between the Telkom Strategist Jannie van Zyl and my Controller next door at No.6 been humming of late?

Care to remind me just how and why you fell for this gigantic scam, knowing that the Government-friendly telecom's giant is so heavily involved in the quantum surveillance Project, along with their so-called competitors? You were content to ignore the warning signs, in return for the opportunity to invade your neighbour's privacy, using this mind-boggling advanced technology? Sure you were.

The angelus sounds out from St.Theresa's across the murky pre-dawn valley, and I must go. All my aches and pains have miraculously disappeared for the moment, although the frequency song in my ears is at it's shrillest.
Is your Internet connection playing up? Your phone on the blink? Several of the keys on your keyboard have inexplicably jammed? Perhaps the Monsters running this Show have found your good works and cheerfulness to be irritating in the extreme.
Perhaps you've been tagged by a nearby Area Controller, and your life is about to change dramatically.
Chin up chaps. Who knows, but that you may be approached to join the ranks of this increasingly compassionless quantum army yourselves.. What will you do?

Sunday 20th July 2014 at 7.25am.