My Betters?
(begun Friday 21st November at 6.15am)

Edit Friday at 3.37pm. At 1.15pm the power was cut, and a couple of calls came in from neighbours to verify that we were all in the same boat. I'd lugged a blue bag up to the top just an hour later at 2.15pm when one of No. 6's alarms went off and I'd turned to find the two now always-on outdoor lights at Cottage No. 11 were activated, and for some reason, so was our streetlight! The bulb blazed out a neon white and as I watched it died again. A couple more chirrups from Balliram's bunker and we were back in action. Was that hour-long demonstration of control created by the young gentleman who looks barely old enough to hold a driver's licence, as he sits ensconced within Agent Balliram's Bunker 'holding the fort'? Just how many proxy quantum Area Controller's is Jannie van Zyl's Favourite permitted to employ, and at what cost to the locals and their health?

What do you call someone who 'doesn't subscribe to a song of fear and hopelessness/helplessness'? (You'll have to pardon the incomplete quotation, but it's still worthy of a repeat).
Could the answer perhaps be 'Chosen'? Someone who's been blessed with an invitation to hop onboard Sutcliffe's Glorious Smart City quantum laser/wifi neighbour spying upon neighbour operation? After all, those with direct links/connections to the various Muni department officials who purport to be on some sort of Good Team, have no need to warble a dirge of misery, not so?

Old school and well educated, these Muni officials will insist that the Trojan Horse they have helped create within the City's Departments, is becoming stronger by the day, as the numbers hidden within it's belly increase, and it's just a matter of time before the Rot is forced to abdicate?
And there of course, is the catch. Time.
Once you or your precious children have officially joined the ranks of this Brave New Army, you are sworn to secrecy, and may not speak of it to anyone other than your fellow quantum Cadets, for fear of banishment or worse.
They will OWN you, from the minute you pass the early hacking initiation rites, and you WILL be silent on the subject, no matter how difficult it becomes for you.

My decade-long observations (okay, cue the obligatory derisive snort) have me concluding that the quantum laser/wifi technology has an almost immediate effect on the Operative's reasoning abilities,and that they rapidly start to feel in someway superior to the masses of Other, or Unchosen.
The occasional sniping raids carried out on fellow FB Community pages are designed with exactly what purpose in mind? To further demoralise those that are struggling to make a difference out there, but are not considered suitable quantum Project material apart from as targets or labrats?
Am I, as so often happens, missing the point, when all I get is a sudden nasty whiff of the Omnipotence Disease that goes hand in hand with the eerie ability to hang invisibly on an unsuspecting neighbour's bedroom wall and record their paltry private lives?

At a quarter after midnight last night, I woke properly, drenched in sweat, to find the Buttholesurfers having a full go at my rear end. A particularly nasty quantum laser party trick that eventually had me up and about at around 12.45am.. ‪#‎wavesto‬ batteurcarey.
I'd ventured back to bed roughly an hour later, armed with my cellphone and Allen Spence's number, just in case Rear-Admiral Balliram intended picking up where they'd left off.

A quick word with No.17 a day or so ago, confirms that I am by no means the only one being put physically through the fires of hell by these invisible quantum thuggees, and that there is no pain medication that will alleviate the agonies currently being directed at that old lady's leg. ‪#‎vomit‬
The Poor Creature's Handlers identified his overwhelming lust for pain and misery administration early on, and as such he'll be allowed to continue feeding off the more vulnerable of the Charges on this stretch of the powerlines, ad nauseum. He's been redeployed? To a certain extent I'll buy that, but it would appear he has installed trusted family and friends in the Bunker next door at No.6 to ensure that I am aware of their presence 24/7, whether the Beast himself is home or away. A proxy apple? A proxy apple's BF?

Fear and helplessness? Bugger that, dude. As hideously painful as it can and does get, I nonetheless am privileged to have a front row seat to watch in fascination at the ease with which the seemingly helpful and incorruptible are being morphed into brainwashed quantum Project zombies. In many cases, people that I still tend to regard as my Betters, who are now behaving with increasing and barely-concealed disdain and malice towards their fellow-man.
Enjoy the delicious cool weather while it lasts, and make the most of every day of freedom that you think you still have.
Peace.

Friday 21st November 2014 at 8.19am.

Edit on Wednesday at 2.14pm.

Some sort of closure on the matter of the missing R55 vodacom airtime voucher. The GameWrecker managed to get hold of the vodacom Helpline yesterday and they checked the airtime pin number and said that it had been used way back in October already. No problem. I have in fact made that same error just once before, and within seconds of hitting send I'd received a text to say that the number had already been used. On this recent occasion no such sms was received, so I guess I may be forgiven for suspecting foul play. Our Monitors fiddle away with our devices to the extent that nothing is as it should be. ‪#‎huffsandpuffs‬.

Our iBurst signal remains extremely dodgy and continues to drop right down to a bar or two when I'm busy on Facebook. Insurance of some sort? Try loading a picture and the wait is exasperating to say the least. Definitely a tweak from one of our Monitors nearby, to play it safe.

Now Tuesday at 6.48am. My rock-steady iBurst signal has just begun playing up again, and is now fluctuating wildly down to just one bar. Something I may have said in a FB post perhaps? See if it adjusts itself, or call Bruce Poole at tradepage and check whether there's a wide-spread problem. Agent Balliram? What would you suggest I do? (and keep it clean dear boy! ) 

Edit added at 10.38am. 
At 7.50pm yesterday evening I loaded the usual prepaid vodacom airtime voucher worth R55 and sent it to 100. I'm still waiting for the verification text to arrive in my Inbox, and for the now paid-for airtime to arrive. I also sent a R49 sms bundle pin number through, and that was verified immediately. After all the years of supporting vodacom it's the first time I've been let down on the airtime side. I've posted on the vodacom FB page asking for assistance, but so far nada. Is this a common occurrence?

Oh - and despite that ‪#‎FlipDeezy‬ of ‪#‎efnet‬ (aka Balliram) has pulled away in the black V8, my iBurst signal continues it's dodgy activity. Methinks it's merely a demonstration of how small remote mischiefs can rattle your cage if you allow them to. Ain't gonna happen. If corrupting our iBurst signal makes our quantum monitors happy then so be it. If vodacom are so desperate for cash they need my paltry R55, what can I say? Smile folks, there's magic in the air! 

Blue Murder...(begun Monday 17th November at 5.15am)

A combination of the two would be absolutely fabulous, ne Janneman? There's a real need this time for it to look like natural causes, and I'm pretty much handing it to your lot on a plate?
Blackened, shrivelled lungs and a rotting hide? What more could an irritated Telecom's Strategist wish for, in a target?

Any of you out there know someone with advanced squamous cell cancer of the skin? I didn't think so, as even the dumbest of them DO something about it before it reaches dinner-plate size.. So yeah - When I say the damned thing healed over for a good two or three months recently, before it was re-targeted, you only have my word on it, and that as you know, is shaky at best.

They certainly mean business this time, and for the last couple of weeks, once I've bathed and dressed of an afternoon, I come through to the lounge to be met by a wave of bushdweller's campfire smoke, and I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out what that's doing to what's left of my nicotine saturated lungs. Step outdoors and there's no smoke visible, and yet the stench fills the house. More quantum magic?
That's it? Going after the results of my lifelong addiction to the sun and cigs with such cruel dedication is an idea you simply can't get your heads around? I'm in some sort of denial is all? Bah! Suckers.

Anyways, that's my shit, and I'm keen to know how YOU'RE holding up? Given any thought to my suggestion that you have a scan done on any joints that are bothering you? That you get an official percentage readout of the soft tissue/cartilage surrounding the offending area, and if the pain persists, you go back again a month later and have further measurements done? It may just be the only way you could prove that the loss of your cartilage is occurring at an unnatural rate, and that it is in fact being cooked off by your friendly neighbourhood quantum spies.

The same applies to your white bloodcell count. If you find yourself taken ill and the docs can't pinpoint the cause, you should yell blue murder that you want your white blood cell count checked, and if there are any discrepancies, you should wake up and realise that you're in a bake-off, and the dish of the day is yourself.
Sure, the quantum Project Authors foresaw the need to have absolute control over the Blood Banks across the country, to prevent mass panic, and they've got their stooges in charge in each province, but who knows, you might get lucky and get some honest results, despite the tight lid they'll be keeping on those increasingly give-away stats.

The sun has just crept up behind St. Theresa's, and my Monitor's zoom-in option is making what should be a beautiful morning, somewhat unpleasant, as the flames lick my disfigured back out here on the verandah. It's almost impossible to believe that someone could be quite so unforgivably stupid as myself, but there's no reason why you should follow suit.
Just because you're Chosen and have been fooled into joining the Smart City quantum Project, (or whatever version is up and running in your neck of the woods) doesn't mean you're safe in any way, and both No 17 and No 33 continue to appear to be under fire, despite their upgrade. True, O Foul One? You're going after them hammer and tongs, despite their enrolment, are you not?
Peace.

Monday 17th November 2014 at 6.38am.

Babbling..
(begun Monday 10th November at 2pm)

Any nasty aches and pains arrived this week?
Any tooth-grinding jabs to your shoulder, knee, wrists, or even eardrums?
Around about the same time your geyser played up, your Smartfone had to go to the agents, and your DStv went on the blink? Losing any bulbs around the house? Any dippage to your lights of an evening?

Agent Balliram's early quantum laser 'experiments' had been directed at our hands and wrists, with astonishing results. This so-called perfectly safe quantum laser/wifi surveillance technology had proceeded to wreak havoc on the soft tissue surrounding the joints in our wrists, hands, and fingers, and Alice, Sue, Penny and I, had all felt the results of CrackerJack's over-zealous attentions.

The first two inexplicable but visible infections had actually occurred in my elbows, but once he'd gotten into his stride it was the setting fire to our hands that he'd concentrated on. As always he'd ended up overdoing it, and my hand had ultimately swelled up like a football for no apparent reason.
Like I've said before, dear Sheldon had been flummoxed, and had sent me for a scan which had shown that I'd lost the cartilage right around my thumb joint.

You've lost one knee already to the Blessed Cause, and probably that friggen wireless mast hadn't helped at the time. You're on Medical Aid? Then how's about you go and have a scan done NOW of your good knee, and make sure you're given a written report of the estimated percentage of cartilage you have left. Sort of like an insurance, if you will?
See - If the nearby quantum mischief makers are ordered to go after your good remaining knee, the knowledge that you're keeping an eye on the cartilage might just give them second thoughts?

Last night, in between driving a red hot poker into my cancer as I sat like a bullseye in my TV chair, some Clever Dick nearby had hit my shoulder so hard that you could hear it grind when I moved. Just a taste of what my dear Vice Chair is currently going through, as these goondas hit him repeatedly.
By 8am this morning I was up on the terraces pushing my little manual mower with scarely a twinge to my shoulder. A miracle? Hell, no. While they may well have caused some damage to that soft tissue last night, as far as I'm concerned it's still my cancer they're after for the moment.

Is it feasible? Make any sense to you at all? That once you start to feel those jabs of abnormal pain directed at a specific joint, you head off chop-chop and have a scan done to ascertain the amount of cartilage you have surrounding that area. If the attacks and pain persist, you go the following month for another scan, and you could discover at last the proof you need, if your cartilage is found to be melting away at unnatural speed. The proof that these crippling attacks are in fact being carried out manually by the New Order quantum laser recruits living in your suburb.
That for whatever reason, you've been tagged for experimental purposes, and you could be set to face unimaginable levels of damaging pain.
The same pain that so many of you scoff at, as 'Virtual'.

It's just a Game? Invisibly chasing peiople from room to room in the privacy of their homes is a GAME? Targeting their eardrums repeatedly until they can be classified as hard of hearing, due to their age, is a GAME?
What they are doing to my Vice Chair's shoulder is for some sort of amusement?
Sutcliffe, Barnabas, and Telkom. Three names that have set the tone for this vicious Project and the brutal methods being used to achieve the Cherished Goal of World domination.
To the trenches, lads!! No, wait. It's too late. So let's just sit back and keep our lips safely zipped, and watch the Others being tortured?
Peace.

Monday 10th November 2014 at 2.15pm.

Provocation?
(begun Sunday 9th November at 8.10am)

Your Facebook private messaging function been playing up more than usual? A corruption no doubt easily achieved by any number of your neighbourhood quantum Monitors, who are hacked into your internet devices.
Would I be nit-picking were I to say that referring to these wireless warriors as 'hackers' is a misnomer?
They are in fact Crackers, plain and simple, and they'll be taught and encouraged to cause mischief and damage where they can.

The death of that young DA Councillor for Mooi River? was pure unadulterated bad luck? You think? Clearly you have no idea of the level of monitoring going on up in the Midlands. That already there are pods of quantum laser recruits huddled in each town and village, and on the farms.
Bundu.net anyone? Who's to say young Ken D. hadn't mentioned his intention of putting up a poster on that specific pole? Whether said out loud or during a phone conversation, you'd be deluding yourself to imagine his every word and movement wasn't being monitored and recorded.

A simple matter then, for the cable to be cut just hours before he arrived, and tucked where he likely wouldn't notice it, and to ensure there was a live feed to that innocuous bit of wiring. There's to be an investigation? Ag, please. A waste of time, as the truth will never see the light of day. In fact, truth is so out of fashion, it's ridiculous.
Nasty thoughts won't bring the fellow back, so keep them to myself rather? Bugger that.
BTW, when your own kids suggest it might be better that you bypass my Facebook wall altogether, and to avoid my updates as so much rubbish, is about when you should do just the opposite. That is, unless you yourself are already brainwashed into believing your young sons and daughters are soon to be the saviours of this country, and you wouldn't dream of going against their wishes?

Once again, you think I'm kidding, right? Pfft.. There are plenty of witless muggles out there who have been overawed by their child's acceptance into the ranks of the quantum laser/wireless Army, and who have come to treat them with misguided and undue deference and respect.
It's like each time I pick up my Bic, I'm endearing myself to you further? NOT.
Even suggesting that your precious offspring are being corrupted and desensitised in order to carry out their new roles, is hurtful and untrue?
Now who's in denial, FFS?

I've been in the line of fire for going on a decade, and if anyone knows the depths of depravity these zombified recruits will be encouraged to sink to, I figure my hand is quite rightly up in the air. Stupid? Undeniably. Openly provoking the psychotic Cracker who was handed control of our powerlines and our lives, into forcing him to reveal his true character? You only have my word that the mischief and mayhem on this little stretch would've been carried out regardless of my prodding anyone.
Though of course, if it makes you feel better to tell yourselves I, or anyone else, deserve this ongoing sadistic abuse, then by all means continue wearing your Cap of Delusion, as we race head first into the New Age.
Peace.

Sunday 9th November 2014 at 9.25am.

The times, they are a'changin..
(begun Saturday 8th November at 8.25am.)

Electron House down in Springfield is a piss-poor substitute for the ancient Hogwart's School of Magic, but for the purposes of drawing a parallel between the Harry Potter saga and the New Age quantum laser army, it'll have to do.
You're a fan of those books? My word, but I'd gobbled them up with glee, although right now I couldn't tell you much about them, except that Good had triumphed in the end.

You have to wonder whether any of the quantum Project Tutors actually refer to JK Rowling's works, during the brainwashing of those impressionable young minds.
What youngster could resist the idea of being awarded their very own personal Cloak of Invisibility once they've mastered the art of hacking into a neighour's privacy? In my version, House Slytherin gets all the glory, if only for the aptness of their name.

Quantum Recruits slithering in and out of Muggle's homes unseen, (and in the beginning at least, unfelt) their wands replaced by an advanced computerised laser program, enabling the would-be wizards to aim at their designated targets with increasing competence, as their skills improve with practise.
These youthful innocents may be told initially that their job is to merely capture the words and actions of the nearby Muggles, from whence the stolen data will be studied by some of the top Wizards, worldwide, in order to create a better life for all.
Any manner of levers will be employed to bend those fresh quantum Cadets to the Project Author's will, and I guarantee that 9 out of 10 will swiftly become addicted to the idea of totally invading someone's privacy, without the fear of getting caught.

Shall I share with you the brief unpleasantness that had occurred here at ours late on Diwali day? A bit of genuinely malicious mischief that's proven beyond a doubt that in our case, the second-generation of quantum Recruits are now rampaging in our home, and that alas, the Apple has fallen very near to the tree when it comes to our CockOfTheHeap, Agent Balliram?
Small wonder then, that the main focus day and night has reverted to the cancer between my shoulder blades, as these now thoroughly indoctrinated 'warriors' have no sense of shame whatsoever, and appear to have adopted a 'short life but a purposeful one' mantra, that has them seeing themselves as some sort of heroic martyrs, when nothing could be further from the truth.

Keeping company out on Telkom's Hidden Networks with the amoral, such as my dear Owner, was never designed to make your offspring a better person, but rather to dumb down their sensibilities and make them easier to manipulate.
Is there anything that can be done? You're asking ME? As much as the New Age wireless warriors are being taught to believe that the average Muggle is an air-wasting and expendible symbol of all that is wrong with the planet, have I perhaps been made to stand out as more despicable and deserving than most?

Oops, I nearly forgot. I managed to achieve that status with no outside influence whatsoever. You believe that crud? Seriously?
If that visible orb is truly a manifestation of any form of spiritual guardianship and guidance, I'd like to believe you would have spoken to me in a more kindly fashion, and been able to see and appreciate my pathetic struggles.
I must therefore conclude that your sphere is nothing less than a quantum laser spy, tasked to dog your every move, and I only hope your immune system can withstand the constant battering it must be taking as a result.

There's a function taking place just across on the Playing Field, and I've resorted to my trusty earplugs to take the edge off the endless announcements on the over-loud PA system. If the weather holds, I'm hoping that later on, the usual good music will kick in and I can shed my plugs and enjoy it, on this splendiferous if somewhat blustery day. Look UP and appreciate the magic that's taking place right before you.
Peace.

Saturday 8th November 2014 at 10.55am.

 

The Devil making work?
(begun Friday 7th November at 2.30pm)

There's an air of desperation surrounding our local AmDram Society of late. I'd noticed that the White Widow had been resurrected by the Witness a few days ago, (http://witnessnews.mobi/…/r…/5860/sighting-of-white-widowand) had said as much to the GameWrecker in the monitored Polo yesterday.
The results? At about 12.45pm today, someone stuck their head over our top wall, calling out that he was looking for a Missus Webb.

The GameWrecker had gone up to see if he could help, and I could hear them conversing loudly, for ages.
Turned out to be a pleasant older Afrikaner gentleman, claiming to be a Private Investigator who was looking for a lady by the name of Natalie Faye Webb. She'd scammed his client out of a hefty amount of cash, put down as a deposit on an apartment for his student daughter in Cape Town.
Apparently the 'Investigator' hadn't connected Natalie Faye to either the White Widow or to Samantha Lewthwaite, until my old man had jogged his memory.. ‪#‎yawn‬

Do you really believe that this young pale-skinned convert to Islam is a serious terrorist threat? I have my doubts. I think she was plucked from relative obscurity, dickied up to be made to appear interesting, and is destined to be tossed into the mix by the Project's Mischief-making team every now and then, just to liven things up.

Today's lunchtime theatrical effort was quite possibly created by the same band of fun makers who'd (according to the Chirpster) called the RH Khan hospital with a bomb threat, a few hours ago?
Any ideas, Captain Laz? Let's face it. Every establishment in this area is wired to the max, with NO exclusions whatsoever. If the White Widow were hanging around Sherwood again, you'd most certainly be aware of it. Wanna pull the other one?
Peace.

Friday 7th November 2014 at 3.06pm.

Cunning plans?
(begun Tuesday 4th November at 10.05am)

What could possibly be wrong on such a stupendously beautiful day? Care to run that question by Shrivaar's family? Snuffed out before he'd had a chance to realise his full potential?
North Ridge Road is wired to the quantum Project as heavily as we are. Was the Panday lad already on board the laser chain? Is their home festooned with the additional outdoor lighting necessary to promote the Blessed Signal? Where were his fellow quantum 'warriors' when he'd climbed into his little car and left home? Not even the Area Controller for that section saw him leave? You're 100% certain of that? You're absolutely positive that not one among you had watched any of those ghastly events play out? That the young man's lifeless body lying in that lake of blood wasn't recorded for posterity by a way more advanced technology than the cctv at that Engen Garage?

The murder and mayhem in this once fair land has been cunningly nurtured and fostered for decades by the very people who subsequently decided you were sufficiently desperate to buy into the most flamboyant lie of the lot. A better life for all, SE GAT!!!
WhyTF would the telecoms boys have the people's interests at heart? And yet you continue to kid yourselves that you're going to make a difference by employing a technology that is useless without the telephone companies full cooperation. Good luck with that one, chaps.

Wednesday 5th November at 12.16pm

I felt obliged to send another text to our Superintendent of Electricity for Durban a couple of minutes ago. It read:
Began by targeting neck and shoulder in lounge last night. Now at 12.12pm it includes arm and chest. Please don't feign ignorance. Agent Balliram's Missus home and may account for criminal levels. Fred at No. 12? No idea, only that I would appreciate plug pulled IF YOU CAN. Jane."

LATER at 12.45pm

Sitting here in my corner of the lounge the levels were high enough for me to go orb hunting, and sure enough, the camera picked up the sadist, a bright, pingpong ball of light, high on the ceiling above the window next to me.‪#‎spits‬... I was still busy methodically deleting all the failed shots, when a chirrup rang out from No. 6's remote. I rest my case.
You're still determined it's going to be a better life for ALL? Humbug...
Peace..

Wednesday 5th November 2014 at 1.45pm.

Human rights?

(begun Tuesday 4th November at 5.45am)

All the spite of thwarted 12 year-olds, and yet, unless I'm very much mistaken, at least one of them is nudging middle-age? Mothers or wives safely in bed asleep by 12.45am?
Someone had barrelled in at that ungodly hour and unleashed the Throat Choker frequency, and I'd duly barked that vicious dry cough until my throat was raw.
By 1.10am the heat in the bedroom was at tropical levels, and it had been a wave of fire to the cancer and several nasty jabs to my temple.

Shortly after 3am I'd raised my arm to check the time and the Kyocera 'bird' nearby had immediately broken the silence with it's 'song'. At 3.40am I'd logged an astonishing display of the Throat Choker, Backfire, butt itch, and burning fingers, all in swift succession, and by 4.30am I was up and about. Understandably I'm finding it hard to believe that you've sacrificed your children for the good of anyone or anything at all.

They know me too well. They'll be aware that I've fallen out of favour with the Rocket Scientist, due I expect, to my growing impatience. Did you ever go check out that mybroadband.co.za link I gave you? Did you read Karl Muller's posts carefully? Did you see for yourselves why the telecom's industry consider that good man to be a real thorn in their side?
Would Toxic Bunny be prepared to answer any of my questions in a civilised manner, or would he continue to demean himself by sounding like a ten year-old brat?

Is he in fact a quantum Area Controller for the Smart City neighbour-spying-upon neighbour Project, somewhere down in the Glenwood area? Has he had his electrical Distribution board adapted to be compliant with the monitoring technology? Has he some sort of transformer attached to the point where his Telkom line feeds into his home?
Does he have Sutcliffe's fibre optic cabling employed to run one of Telkom's Hidden Networks running through the waterlines to his home?
Any windows on his abode fitted with the laser deflecting black mirror glass, or the odd finish that was applied to the windows of the upstairs orphanage at St. Theresa's? Does our poisonous rabbit have a large aircon unit fitted on both sides of his home, facing his neighbour's properties? (Useful for creating those astonishing fake winds).

Would that young man aver that he is not a Controller, but merely a willing link in the quantum surveillance chain? Is his lack of respect for the common man increasing by the day, as the indoctrination cooks what independent thoughts he may once have had? The give-away? His visible and childish contempt towards Karl Muller earns him a Puppet stamp across his forehead, just as I've earned my own Idiot branding.
Last, but never least...
Did the Sales Pitch that TB bought so eagerly from Jannie van Zyl include the fact that he's now a part of some massive Trojan Horse initiative, where he will be expected to play his part until, on some unidentified day in the distant future, the order will be given to rise up en masse against the Rotten and Corrupt?

Did it never occur to our Rabbit that by then he could well be eligible to fit neatly among those Seriously Rotten ranks, himself?
He certainly appears to care for his own dogs, but other animals are fair game for the laser recruits? He'll look the other way as a neighbour's walls are breached and a home invasion carried out? Has TB seen for himself the suffering and illness his invisible visits are causing a nearby target, and yet he continues to follow orders and keep those levels ridiculously high?

In fact, the entire Better Life for All premise is a sick joke, is it not? It's Them and Your Lot, hey Toxic Bunny? And by Them, I would include the likes of the Rocket Scientist, Karl Muller, my own Honourable CPF Vice Chair, and Paul Doyen. Shame.

Peace.

Tuesday 4th November 2014.

How deep the rot?
(begun Sunday 2nd November at 9.45am.)

Twenty-four hours after I'd bleated in that text to Allen Spence, the GameWrecker had reported that the bread and icecream at the bottom of the deepfreeze was once again frozen solid. The rank stench had disappeared, and was hopefully due to the packets of dog bones we keep down there. (Sophie and Cola won't be calling City Health, no matter how those bones pong).
Am I gratified? Yes and no. Yes, because it's now been verified that the freezer is set up to run at a lower level, merely at the simple tap of a Monitor's computer key, and it's up to us to check the contents regularly.
No, because you couldn't ask for stronger evidence to show that even after a decade of service to the New Age quantum wankers, the mischief-making is set to continue ad nauseum.

LATER at 12.25pm

Our power went off at 12.10pm, and I pulled the wall plugs and came out here to sit on the verandah and chat to you. A cracked silo that subsequently collapsed? Anyone think to provide pics corroborating this latest over-the-top catastrophe? When you consider the number of active lights that I photograph just once a week during the couple of hours I get to go out, you can begin to understand why Eskom and the Munis are having to go the rolling blackout route in an attempt to recoup at least some of the excessive power wastage due to the quantum Project.
It has squat to do with coal or silos, and everything to do with the race to get the entire population linked to the neighbour spying upon neighbour quantum laser technology and the NWO. *waves to Georgie Soros.

Changing the subject - The birds in the valley below are feasting on clouds of flying ants as they rise in the air. I've already remarked previously that for the past couple of years the white ants in our garden haven't reached maturity for whatever reason, but it would seem that whatever the glitch in their environment was, it's been sorted, as they're back to flying in their thousands.

LATER at 7pm

At around ten past six I'd gone up top to check the view. As always the so-called load-shedding appears to be mighty selective, and from Grindrod back into Sydenham they have power. Lights dance on the smart finish on the upstairs orphanage windows at St. Theresa's, and the now regular bedroom window at the supposedly unoccupied DUT student res was burning brightly. However, I'd barely sat down on the top step before that single light had been doused ‪#‎winks‬..

I sent our Al Spence a further text at 6.15pm that read: "Freezer sorted 'itself' after 24 hours, tx. Payback? Power cut at 12.10pm and six hours later no sign of it coming back. Remind me who's running this Project?‪#‎gags‬"

Course our cellphone signals were pretty much wiped out along with the powercut, but I hit Send anyways.

LATER at 7.50pm

The power came back on just five minutes ago, which makes it a 7 and 1/2 hour blackout. A tad extreme, or is the NIA thuggee at No. 6 still trying to get across his peurile bullying message? From toads with their heads neatly sliced off and left in our yard, to these latest games with our freezer's powerfeed, these are the shady characters preferred by the Telecom's Bigwigs and their pals in Government, to act as Area Controllers for the Smart City quantum surveillance project.

Has your youngster been tutored by this morally-bereft bully? You have my sympathies, although it could take a while before you recognize the symptoms of their increasing zombification. 

Despite having no power since noon, the laser generated assaults had reached an all time low. Although the power is back on, the Kyocera iBurst modem is back to it's nonsense, and it looks like a call to Bruce Poole of tradepage is in the offing. Our DStv is freezing constantly as well, since the power came back on. Our Agent CrackerJack is going for an even heavier-handed approach?

You may feel free to laugh off my warnings as extreme hyperbole, but never let it be said I didn't give it my best shot.

Peace.

Sunday 2nd November 2014 at 9.11pm

Days of miracles and wonder..

(begun Friday 31st October at 9.50am)

Text sent to the Superintendent of Electricity for Durban, Allen Spence, at 10.15am this morning: "New chest freezer corrected itself 1 week after delivery and has run sans probs 8th June up until 3 or 4 days ago. Back to square 1, only top 1/2 freezing. Kindly work remote magic pronto. Jane 10.15am." (actually I see now that the problem had corrected itself only at the end of June, a couple of weeks later)

Remember all the drama with our little chest freezer? It was around early May this year, when that formerly trusty appliance had begun behaving badly. Sort of round the same time that our leaking fridge had more or less recovered itself overnight and had miraculously stopped leaking.
Prior to that, when the freezer had needed defrosting, it's four walls would be covered with ice from top to bottom. Only once the fridge had spookily righted itself, (running off a different socket) did the freezer start to ice up on the top half only, and the perishables in the bottom section had done just that, and had perished.

My better half had niavely gone off and purchased a replacement with his rapidly dwindling pension funds. The new freezer had arrived on Friday 23rd May, and by late the next day it was clear it had the identical problem, and nothing was freezing in the bottom half.
Back then I'd sent several texts to our Superintendent of Electricity, Allen Spence, and had expressed my disgust more than once here on my Facebook updates.
The 26th June saw the City Lightz contractors working up Fred Cochran's pole after a cable 'theft', and not long after that, I'd texted Spence to say the freezer was finally operating properly. It hasn't given us a problem since then, that is, until 3 or four days ago... It would seem that we're right back to square one, and that the feed to the bottom section of the little freezer has once again somehow been corrupted.

Is our distribution box Smart City quantum Project compliant? Are you kidding me? We are Other. Unchosen. Worthless dregs of society, regarded as little more than labrats, existing to entertain the quantum laser zombies, and nothing much else.
My old man is already muttering about contacting OK Bazaars and returning their faulty appliance. Do we REALLY have to do this stupid dance again? A dance designed in some way to mollify any of the Project thugs that infest our so-called privacy, who may be more irritated by me than usual?

I'd be obliged if Spence would stick his academic nose out of the belly of the Trojan Horse he lives in, to correct this latest effing nonsense. Who is truly running this show, Al? The powerful connections in Government that the Sparks Estate CPF Chair posted about, or the physics wallahs who introduced this 'perfectly safe' technology to eThekwini?
Either send out someone trustworthy from the Raw Power outfit to make the necessary adjustments to Fred's pole, or it will be yet further confirmation that the SA population are being taken for a ride on an unimaginable scale.

I'd been sweeping the garage at 8.45am this morning when I saw the toppie wandering down the pavement. Age? Maybe late fifties, early sixties, and probably holed up at Findlay Hall. Retired old school EE, doing his bit for the quantum Project? What was he up to? Checking for hot-spots perhaps? Seriously? Should I feel reassured? If there's any attempt being made to paint this operation as anything other than corruption-riddled, it's a FAIL.

Bump, bump, bumpety, bump - look at Frosty go...
bump, bump, bumpety, bump - over the hills of snow... Where are you‪#‎Investigator247‬? Still miraculously, your own man? Come out, come out, wherever you are....
Peace.

Friday 31st October 2014 at 11.26am.

Unholy Alliance?
(begun Tuesday 28th October at 10am)

You will never be one of us? What sort of a message was that, FFS? Truth be told, I took it as a compliment, and kindly Unfriended you.
A special Friend of the Chirpster's, perhaps? I seem to recall noting how you dogged his posts on Facebook, and I'd wondered at the time whether you were there in an advisory capacity, or merely as an Observer.

Has Karl Muller already been sold a version of the quantum laser/wifi Sales Pitch? Am I too late? Some sort of romantic tale that has Good ultimately triumphing over Evil? A story that will end as all the other variations do, with the party line, that although it will take decades to achieve, the sooner you support the Glorious Cause, the better?
That's basically all those powerful shadowy bliksems need, is it not? Time.
To give you just enough to enchant you, and then to keep moving the goalposts until every man Jack is on the quantum Chain, and may be controlled at the tap of a key?

Has Karl been fed the line that our Government introduced this astonishing surveillance technology (originally obtained from the CIA), but that they're using it for their own wicked gain, and that is the reason the country is now falling apart? That the only means of saving the day lies in the hands of the good people in the Opposition? *collapses choking.
Surely Muller would see through that bullshit straight away, and cry foul from the rooftops?
The destruction being caused to the environment alone should surely give him pause for thought, never mind the physical toll it's taking on the population around the globe.
For anyone, purporting to be good, to sit back silently and knowingly allow this gigantic violation of human rights to continue, puts them firmly in the camp of the Brainwashed, no matter what lies they've fallen for.

I'm doing good work? I believe your smackdowns and hastily added uplift may be referred to as some sort of Carnegie Sandwich, and sadly, it did little for my confidence, or my lack thereof.
In the early years, your associates would feed me rubbish and fall about as I trotted it out, and struggled to make sense of what was happening to us. Only once I'd learned to mistrust EVERYONE, had I begun making any headway at all, as laboured as it was. Would I be presumptuous in saying that I've lost my amusement factor, and that both camps now find me to be a pain in the arse?
After all, I've only the severity and nature of the ongoing physical assaults to go by, and the clear indication that no-one is going to pull the plug on the sad zombified lot who have been given such easy access to our lives.
That neither I, nor my poor recently recruited friends can anticipate that the cruelty and mischief will be stopped anytime soon. Tough titty, right?

I was sat out here on the verandah at daybreak this morning, when I was suddenly filled with an almost chest-bursting sense of what? Joy? Gratefulness? I dunno, but whatever it was, it was pretty darned good. It may well have been a sudden burst of the Euphoria frequency that caused that sheer unadulterated happiness. A frequency that can be minutely adjusted to fling you into the darkest despair, and incapacitate you for weeks. How would I know?
Sure, I write of the unspeakable, but that doesn't prevent me from appreciating everything around me, to the nth degree. I'm the lucky one, and I know it.

Peace.

Wednesday 29th October 2014 at 6.53am.

Zombies?
(begun Tuesday 28th October at 7.15am)

Anyone else waking in the dead of night to experience jabbing pains to their wrists/hands/fingers? Severe pins-and-needles perhaps? I'd hazard it was the very first of the exquisite tortures that our Project Area Controller had employed upon us, soon after he'd been handed control over the powerlines on this stretch, by Sutcliffe's Superintendent of Electricity for Durban, Allen Spence, and probably one of the first lessons now being taught to the upcoming young quantum laser cadets across the country.

It must have been around 2.30am this morning when they'd come on in and set my hand ablaze. Hardly any of the usual preliminary build-up, just a 'whoomp!' and there I was, on fire. If I'd been able to have true readings taken during that vicious onslaught, of my white blood cell count, and a scan done on that burning hand, would it have shown my cartilage actually bubbling at the time? ‪#‎curious‬ Exaggeration, Madam? Hardly.
Would Fred Cochrane check his logs and see who was on Telkom's hidden Sherwood Network and in ours, between 2 and 3am this morning? It doesn't work like that, Freddie?
Any of the quantum recruits may use the Network anytime they choose, and you cannot be expected to keep track of them? Rubbish.

This morning's exercise in perverted sadism had all the hallmarks of a payback enterprise. Payback for what, exactly? My latest Facebook picture, and the one I'd added later? What's the problem FFS? It's hardly likely that those wonderful young adults at No. 14 would risk showing their papa those pics, now is it? As I recall, at the time those pictures were taken, the Plumber had been blessed with three large contracts, ensuring that he was run off his feet, and seldom managed to make it home during the day.
Thereby ensuring that the corruption to the waterlines in the road outside of his property could be completed without him asking awkward questions?
Once his offspring were subsequently (and expediently) recruited to the quantum Smart City Project, it's hoped that someone knowledgeable had been tasked to field any questions he might have had.. Cool.

To my delight I found Karl Muller on the mybroadband.co.za site this morning, tucked away in the obscure Health, Wealth, Leisure & Relationships forum. This link:
http://mybroadband.co.za/vb/showthread.php/653190-Former-Nokia-CTO-Mobile-phones-wrecked-my-health. is unlikely to work, but it would be great if you could go search for the relevant thread yourselves. It's titled: ' Former Nokia CTO: Mobile phones wrecked my health'. and it's well worth a read.
Muller speaks of the spectacular increase in ADHD and autism amongst the children in this country, rendering them to a near zombie-like state.

Was this always to be a part of your superior's Master Plan, Mister van Zyl? *checks out the vodacom Strategist. Once the numbers were deemed suitable, to then start introducing the quantum laser/wifi Project to these unfortunate kids, and enrolling them to this New Age technological army, where they could be easily manipulated and encouraged to terrorise the masses of Unchosen?

Peace.

Tuesday 28th October 2014 at 8.14am.

Rotten.
(begun Monday 27th October at 5am)

I stink. As I sit here scribbling at the desk, I reek of eau de cancer, and you really want to keep your distance or gag. Nothing new at all, as I'd been forced to begin bathing and changing my dressing twice a day for that very reason, some years back. And then, about three or four months ago, some sort of miracle had happened, and that gross squamous cell cancer had appeared to seal itself up and had stopped weeping and bleeding pretty much altogether.
We'd been driving out of Caxtons one Thursday a month or so back, and I remember turning to the old man and saying that I no longer needed more than one dressing or bath a day, as my cancer was at last behaving as I imagine it should've been all along.

Course, whoever was tracking us at the time would've recorded that snippet and it was unsurprisingly used against me with alacrity. It's the weather? It's understandable that it's going to react badly to the warmer weather? Gimme a break here guys. I've lived with this self-inflicted disfigurement for a decade or more, and I'll be the judge of how it behaves, if you don't mind.
There were plenty of days during our most recent so-called winter that the temperature had crept up into the thirties, and yet the Abomination had stayed well-behaved and clean.

They're going about it a little differently now, but the results must surely have the vodacom Strategist ecstatic with delight. Rewarded, Agent Balliram? Another jetski? A beach cottage in Mauritius? Man, I know you'd be okay working for absolutely nothing, as it's the thrill of inflicting pain that feeds your addiction.
I'll go lie in a hot bath sometime between 4 and 5 pm each day, and pat the monstrosity dry before applying a fresh dressing. No - don't turn away, it's bloody fascinating, albeit a tad disgusting.
Within an hour or so after that, I can now actually FEEL the dressing growing soggier by the minute, and there's a definite pattern beginning to emerge.
The stench had been so noxious yesterday morning that I'd resorted to changing the dressing early on. When I'd finally come to bathe as usual yesterday afternoon, apart from a few self-inflicted blood spots, that dressing had been dry. Hau!!!
Right. So we've established that whatever my Attackers are using to have re-instated this particular misery, it's being concentrated to the late afternoon and overnight, and there's no question about it.

Everyone reacts differently to over-exposure by electromagnetic radiation, as can be seen visibly on Mike Oliver of the Muni's electricity security Division, and on THIS Telkom tech up our phone pole in the valley.
I guess Mikey may have had that thing cut off his forehead by now, and I'd be interested to know when it had first arrived. I'd have to bet it was only after he'd begun working with the quantum laser/wireless technology around 2003/4?

Paul Doyen of The Microwave Factor website had only recently casually mentioned in a mail that he'd had several cysts removed, and of course that makes sense, as he's an enemy of the telecom's industry and he's currently being hounded across the globe for his sins..
Our own voice of reason, Karl Muller the Rocket Scientist? Was he spirited away to what he imagined was a relatively safe haven? To what end, when it's glaringly obvious that van Zyl and his cohorts are watching that good man 24/7? Is he being manipulated to speak out on behalf of the so-called Good Guys in this ghastly world take-over? Unknowingly used to reassure the anxious that there are Seriously Good academics out there who are working towards change for the better? Is Karl, like Paul Doyen, still unfamiliar with the neighbour spying upon neighbour quantum laser technology, and you'd prefer to keep it that way?

It's all about body temperature, is it not? My attackers increase those levels each night once I've nodded off, and they've learned not to wake me for the most part. My hair is growing as fast as ever (including on my ugly mug) and I have pockets of sebacious oil all over, and like I said, the Abomination does nearly all of it's copious weeping overnight, when it's under increased and deliberate attack.
Any point in my saying ek maak mos sterk beswaar? Probably not. Not when someone you trust finally tells you that you're neither innocent nor a victim. Eish.

I'd been bumbling about the kitchen yesterday at 12.20pm, when one of my Monitors had let loose a flurry of knives to my eardrum without any warning whatsoever. At 5.45pm I'd been sitting in front of the telly when that excrutiating exercise had been repeated. Our top quantum laser Agent has already pretty much destroyed the hearing in one ear, and appears to be targeting the other with a will. Like I said, my dear GP had admitted he had no idea what was causing those intermittent knife-like pains, and that outwardly my ears appeared to be fine.
What's my point? If you've begun developing cysts, or enduring occasional stabbing pains to your eardrums then FFS speak out to everyone you encounter, and chances are you'll begin to find that you're far from alone.

What is it that's being run in our home, Jannie? Now that Kindle has shown us unequivocably to be a hotspot? Is it 3G, as google would have the GameWrecker believe, or is it the dodgy 4G that the MastFighter insists is REALLY bad for the collective health of the population? Is that what's going on here now? We're 'trialling' the infamous 4G technology, on top of being a Learner Hub for the quantum laser students? Should I consider this to be an honour, or is it a further breach of human rights that's particularly foul, even for your lot?
Have a magnificent day julle.
Peace

Monday 27th October 2014 at 6.43am.

Rocketman?
(begun Tuesday 21st October at 7.25am)

Oh dear. I've offended you again? It sets your pearly-whites on edge when I tar you all with the same foul brush that paints the quantum Warriors in our neck of the woods? What makes you any different, pray tell? A University education and a priviliged upbringing? Pfft..
From the glimpses I've seen of your behind-the-scenes comments, your veneer of respectibility is just that.. A thinly-veiled coat of varnish designed to fool the as-yet Unchosen. Yours are certainly not the only snippets of truth I've accidentally seen on my computer screen over the years, as my Network 'Administrator' has fumbled several times in his management of our computer, revealing the quantum hackers comfortably ensconced on our PC, derisively chatting about my struggles online.
So ja - You'll have to forgive me if I tend to lump you all together in one sorry basket of fabrication and falsehood, despite that you see yourselves very differently.

Wednesday 22nd October at 9.35am

The GameWrecker had picked up the phone yesterday afternoon, only to say there was no-one the other end. The second or third such call in the past couple of days, only this time I suspect it was the one that had deliberately terminated our landline. It was deader than a dodo when I'd come to use it this morning, so he'd sent a text to Faults and had a Reference number in response.

Been having shoulder problems this past week or so? I recall how dear Basil had suffered down at No.4, in just that area, and I now find that the Honourable Man has been enduring similar pain and discomfort. Woken brutally at 4am this morning to a concentrated assault on his already aching shoulder joint, he'd described the pain as anything but normal. Someone in a rush to inflict as much damage to that soft tissue as possible, and caution be damned? ‪#‎passthebucket‬

Which of the quantum Recruits was present in my VC's bedroom at 4am this morning, Agent Balliram? You'd have us believe you no longer keep the schedules, and that I'm to ask young Freddie Cochrane for that information?
Pull the other one, CrackerJack! You have a personal interest in everything that takes place in and out of that property on Abrey, and it would be pointless denying it.

Let wel julle. It matters not whether you or a family member are officially on board the Smart City quantum/wireless neighbour spying upon neighbour operation.
Do I think for one minute that the occupants of Nos. 33, 17, and 5 Harris Crescent are now exempt from the assaults we endure in ours?
I do not.
Although it was considered expedient at the time to finally recruit those latecomers, they will continue to be treated with the utmost contempt by my Owner and his nearby bumchums.
I understand that No 33 has a really painful neck thats needed attention? Near enough to her shoulder joint to interest me. Now if our landline hadn't gone down and I'd called Nos 17 and 5 to ask whether any of those occupants are experiencing neck or shoulder pains, what would their answer be?

After catching up with my Vice Chair on the cellphone earlier, I'd relayed the conversation to the GameWrecker, who'd immediately said that he'd woken yesterday morning with a painful shoulder that continued to ache today. Coincidence? Bah, fekking HUMBUG!!

Missus Balliram had called our landline yesterday, (just prior to the second and last call with nobody the other end, that had appeared to kill the phone), to inform us they'd be partying next door tomorrow. I'm happy for them, and can only hope the Poor Sod sets aside his vicious spite and doesn't issue orders to his lackeys to continue making our lives miserable during the festivities...

It's now 10.55am and here's a quick update to say that the dogs had gone nuts about half an hour ago, and we'd gone out front to find a tech up the pole between us and No. 6. I'd snapped you some pics which you'll have to wait for, but it turned out to be the same guy whose photo I already have. Would Devan Pillay from Telkom Overport recognize the dude, or is he attached to a special unit of sorts? ‪#‎interested‬... My old man said this visit wouldn't be in response to his Fault report, so what the chap is doing down there is in question. The white wireless box is hanging down against the pole and the bloke appears to be working on the parcel of wires that were in it's innards... I've tried our phone and it remains dead.
Peace.

Wednesday 22nd October 2014 at 11am.