Thursday, October 02, 2014

Neither slumber nor sleep.
(begun Saturday 27th September at 8.25pm.)

How odd. Or is it? I'd just been sat out on the verandah in the cool damp wind, when I'd noticed that the air around the outside spotlight was clear.
That's a first in quite a while, as I was marvelling at that smokey effect around the bulbs just last night. It looks like smoke or some sort of weird static mist, but I figure it ain't either.
Nope. I'd have to bet it's a build-up of good old Stef Roux's 'perfectly safe' ultra-short laser beams that now form a fairly thick blanket over Sherwood and Sydenham. The ones where, if you take your camera outside in the dark and set off the flash, you'll see the air nearest that sudden burst of light is filled with what appears to be gold dust.
Could that be the reason for the carefully engineered and very brief downpour earlier this evening? To clear the increasingly visible evidence from the air, despite that it apparently poses no threat whatsoever to the community?

He's looking haunted. Has Jacob Zuma woken to the fact that he's been played like a sucker? How long ago was it that he first began experiencing some fairly unsettling palpitations? And you may keep your jokes about it being due to the number of wives he keeps, or to his opulent lifestyle. If indeed his ticker is causing him concern, I'd speculate that it's solely due to the quantum laser monitoring that will surround him both day and night. Does he seriously think he's protected from the invisible Peeping Toms that infest the airwaves and the powerlines across SA? Has he come to realise that right now his life hangs by a thread, just as Jackie Selebi's had done, before he'd been permitted to cut a deal and retire with his lips forever sealed?

Right now our unfortunate President is merely a marionette, dancing to the tune of some very powerful outside forces, and as long as he obeys their orders, his health will hold for the moment at least. Cross his PuppetMasters, and just like Glen Nayager, he won't live to tell the tale. There's an underground bunker at Nkandhla? Does the poor chap think he can escape his quantum laser tormentors by going underground? Has Jacob's good friend Mr Putin perhaps shared some cunning scientific means of avoiding both the physical attacks over the powerlines and the wireless-bearing ultrashort laser assaults? If so - I wish he'd let me know, as Someone has just joined me here at the desk, and their arrival has caused my cancer to erupt in flames.

There'd been a fair bit of unpleasantness in the lounge this afternoon as well.. Boredom? My fillings had been set to shriek before they'd had me by the throat for a while, although once I'd logged it on the pad next to me, the discomfort had eased somewhat. Jannie? You've got Agent Balliram and quite possibly our Freddie, doing a bit of extra bullying on your behalf? Sure you have...

Sunday 28th September at 5.50am

And so it was. The pain is one thing, but truth be told, it's the avid enthusiasm with which the assaults are delivered that I find so demoralising. Ever tried a taste of this astonishing techno medicine, little man? I shouldn't think so, so you'll just have to take my word for it, right?
Spoiled for choice, Someone on the Graveyard Shift had leaped about my supine body after 3am, jabbing furiously at the top of my leg and even squeezing my chest, so keen were they to prove a point.
Do you seriously consider that google or wiki will find you details on this New Age wireless weaponry? That your internet search will reveal just how these ultra-short pulsed laser beams and wireless can lay low an entire suburb with all manner of ailments? It's the stuff of nightmares, folks, and there's no ways you or I would ever gain access to those files.
Sunday 28th September 2014 at 7.08am.