Chill factor.
(begun Wednesday 9th July at 8.35am)

I persist in feeding the Troll, and am therefore at least in part to blame for the ongoing mischief and pain that occurs in my life? You think? So when the Superintendent of Electricity for Durban hands control of YOUR power supplies to a sadistically inclined Cracker to 'manage', I'd be ever so grateful if you'd advise me on the correct methods you intend to use to 'walk away from the situation and put it behind you.'

When you actually have to choose whether to remain silent as your appliances are destroyed about you, your phones no longer behave as they should, and you endure any number of narrow escapes from a sudden influx of thieves and would-be intruders, never mind a huge increase of inexplicable pains to various parts of your body. When the penny finally drops that you've been tagged by the criminal element that runs rampant among the quantum Project army's ranks, would you simply attempt to keep a lower profile than usual, in the hopes they'll grow bored and leave you in peace?

It ain't gonna happen. See, boredom is the key word here, and the dozens of locals recruited as Monitors on your stretch, need to be entertained at all costs, in order to keep the signal's chain up and running for the street's Area Controller to achieve whatever goals he/she has been set .
That is precisely where the likes of the Spy Who Loathes Me come in, and the more criminal and compassionless they are, the better the Project Authors like it.

A slap on the wrist, no matter how cautiously administered, will elicit a flurry of retribution along the lines of the petty but carefully constructed theatrics acted out yesterday. His nearby recruits/students will once again be impressed by his myriad contacts, and the ease with which he can cause mischief, and it will have livened up an otherwise uneventful day. Mission accomplished.
Was Balliram lurking in his bunker for the entire duration of yesterday's mini fiasco? Who knows... It's the school holidays, and I've just watched him complete his regular game of musical cars, only to lope downstairs back to his hidey-hole, so he's definitely home for the moment.

Young Cola was standing quietly behind me a minute ago, as I sit here at the desk scribbling away, when he suddenly had a breathing attack, and began gasping hoarsely. Something that generally occurs when you pick him up carelessly and squeeze his chest in the process. When his owners had run him over accidentally as a puppy, the vet had given him the all-clear, but ever since then he's gone into that wheeze when you handle him a certain way, and we're very much aware of it. Seems that our Agent Balliram is as well, as he appears to have just demonstrated hands-free, that he can achieve the same effect on the dog remotely. *gags...

Like I said - if you'd care to pass on just how one 'walks away' from this situation, I'd be happy to hear it. I choose instead to share practically my every last thought and experience here with you, in the hopes that you may recognize these invisible thugs when they arrive to take over YOUR home and your lives...
Whether you're signed up to the ranks of the laughably-termed Elite, or not, rest assured that you are OWNED henceforth and forever more, as much as the despised labrats that we've become.

Trouble with your cellphone lately? You're sick of the power cuts? The flu-like symptoms come and go, and you often feel nauseous for no real reason? Chances are that you're now a link in Sutcliffe's Smart city quantum chain, and that the privacy of your own home has been breached by invisible Watchers, who may well include the idle teen next door among them. Nice thought hey?
Will you learn to watch your tongue as you chat idly to your spouse? Everything you say and do is being recorded, and you'd better believe it. Every little habit you have is gobbled up and stored on satellite, that more may be learned about the common man, the better to control him.

Is it all simply too way out for you to grasp, and therefore you'd prefer to label me a loon? Hey - I'm not suggesting you go into panic mode, FFS. Merely that you wake up and see the clear signs that you have unwanted company. How you react to this, will ultimately show what you're made of. If, like me, you can sit down to a re-run of The King's Speech and come away feeling privileged and happy that you are fortunate to have DStv, despite Koos Bekker's contribution towards the country's ultimate enslavement, you're in with a chance.
If someone's casual smile and wave cheers you no end, and you find the sound of rain (no matter how brief) makes you smile, I figure you're someone who can withstand what's coming our way, with fortitude...

LATER at 11.15pm

This time there'd been considerably more of them, and between 8 and 9 of the AmDram Parks workers had arrived at 9.15am to go sit and thaw out in the morning sun, well below Cyril's place at No.18. Nice one. My silly dogs wouldn't let up, despite the distance, and I'd fetched the hose to do a bit of watering..I'd played the water over the bottom boundary wall and out had bobbed a big shaven-headed dude who'd headed off sheepishly to join his cackling mates. A call of nature, or deliberately there to stress my dogs? Guess we'll never know.

I'd woken to an unfamiliar dull ache in my head this morning, and I'd like it on record that I'm less than thrilled with my tormentor's latest point of attack. Stick to what you're both best at, piggywigs... The below-the-belt assaults that you've increased so recklessly of late, and leave my fat head out of it. Edit added at 5.56am, Thursday.
Foolish wording on my part, and I appear to have given the Bullyboys carte blanche to pinch my lower spine at will. The pincers were introduced shortly after I climbed out of bed earlier and I'd be obliged if you'd bugger off and leave me be!

What Cause could be sufficiently glorious as to have people content to dig about in their own faeces on a regular basis, in this day and age? Could George Soros give us an answer to that one?
Peace.

Wednesday 9th July 2014 at 9.42pm.