The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version, datfile XXXVII

The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version
Chapter blog [CB] 000024, datfile 020808.033
Beginning Transmission:

As usual, Ed made changes with the computer, and it never occurs to him that if he does this, I cannot automatically know what to do with every step, it also makes me add many of the new words that I use with the spellchecker dictionary. Only the main system works, I have no mouse either. He changes pouches also where the system and its various parts are all in, and cannot understand that all of this is throwing me off my game. Let us see what we can accomplish tonight for SSJKK, as she has it all under her control in the bigger picture, whether we mere mortals accept this truth or not.

I received major hacking on last blogging when I said that the SB score was 14 to 14, an obvious hack, you can see from the prior text that I had just spelled out the numbers FOURTEEN, and SEVENTEEN, and then I know darn well that I typed in a 7:14, yet out it came as 14:14, as well as all the other added nutty characters. If time and energy permit, I try to edit my text and make the changes now, but time runs out and things must get done, and I’d rather post up to as many sites and potential audiences as is possible, a few errors non withstanding, they are not errors, they are HACKED-TYPOS. Yes, I did this for fun, as well as playing my small part in Stacey’s Dogtown Vengeance, as I seemingly got neither effect nor results when in the blog prior to the one being discussed, I opened the Jessica Simpson Parallel Event Football door, or my [JSPEF] door, and it slammed back into my face. Jesus said it all when he walked this Earth a while back, those that have eyes and ears to hear and see spiritually based truths will to various degrees, indeed do so. But just as the physically blind stumble and fall and the deaf hear nothings, I can preach my truths to these SBADS, as I will refer to them from now on as, and this will go right around and over them as does the wind, [Spiritually Blind and deaf], when pluralized. Just as all teachers and educators are aware, you cannot make a student learn. You can throw one in detention or punish in various ways, but those that do not want it, forget it Charlie-boy. Also, if you think I have opened the door much more than a squeaking crack on Sarah Jacobson and things that occurred as the 1970’s replaced the previous decade, you are very much all mistaken, but I will get back to this, I promise.

First, a little bit of PC hit last week, especially the last two days of the week, Thursday and Friday, and when one day you are the very essence of Dracula with fangs and all, and another, you are getting illegal’s flirting big time with you, you know this is not something that’s just screwed up and delusional in your sick mind. Many days, both Ann and I have heard people say to me, regarding Ed, “Is he your father” and I have told you that two people thought I was under age within the past several years, a man and his wife in a casino elevator, and I am sure that the CIA can pull the surveillance tapes and verify this is not made up, and the call-girl I had over named Liz, while residing in Williamstown, NJUSAESMWG. A super major death angel is hitting me, passing my right side loud and freaking annoying, at precisely eleven minutes past one in the morning, if my watch was not 3 hours fast to avoid J-Low’s new friend and her vicious attack on me in the late spring of 1993 at the Atlanta, GA ballpark, my night would have ended right now, but still, I’ll further compensate for this attack, first by resetting my digital clock and staring at it for a minper or so, and then, do this, 5555555555555555555555555555555555555555. Ha-Ha-Ha. Death angels are on the worst heaviest roll now for more than a solid year than in any time in my present MOUNTAINPEN life, ever!!!!!!!!! But, as said in many of my blogging texts, if this is all that I had to be concerned with, and nothing else, I would be King Jeremiah Bullfrog Clearwater. Yes I have been on a nasty roll for seeing Jane F’s ugly face represented both in analogue and digital, on the faces of clocks. It is totally nauseating.

My lovely Deedee’s have been all around me and there to let me know that both they, and the one who sent them to me, the great Sarah-Stacey JKK, is carefully watching over me in this nightmare dream that I am experiencing and interacting in as Mountainpen. Thank you for being there for me my beautiful Deedee. It goes without saying, that I cannot express my eternal love and praise to my teen queen, SSJKK. Still let me just try pweeeeeze. Stacey, I do not go through any 5 minute period without thinking of how much that I love you and miss you and need you while I live here in this terrible place that mortals love and cherish so much for reasons that you only know. The few that have retained minor glimpses of you and your great city, and dream-shift that permits them to instantly interact with those they loved on mortal realms all though it really is all illusion and backwards and they will eventually realize it when there bodies are totally gone, but they know, yes these few non-SBADS, they know.

Let me up date my blog-aud regarding my problem with moving out of town, which is not a maybe, count on it. The inspector is willing to work with me and not evict me as long as he sees my clutter lessen and disappear over a reasonable time period. My great friend Ann does lots of cleaning for her landlord, other apartments in the building that she resides in, and the landlord, Hammonton’s famous Judge Rasso, and she told Mr. Dreamer, our township inspector, that she will have it all cleaned out and sparkling, and I am going to purchase a shed and place it behind where I park my car on my lot, and get dozens of plastic totes and store all my junk under lock and key and alarm. Other residents in the park have these sheds, so I cannot be refused this. Still, I am going to move, I am in the process of evaluating what my stamps are worth, and have obtained library catalogues that contain all of the addresses and phone and web contacts, for buyers. But this was not just a plot starting with my landlady and a few slob neighbors in the park that do not nor ever have liked me. This is not even just a township municipal plot to mess with me and my life. I learned from the great dreamer, Mister Sandman, and you cannot honestly tell me that you see no symbolism in the name SBADS, come on [dreams-interactions, the “sandman”], you cannot be that much of a total air head, but I learned from him that recently, my ENEMIES IN THE WILL SMITH STATE, are indeed behind this. It is all coming from departments in Trenton, New Jersey, and the great mighty Sorian- 18 Club of Corzine. Last year at this time he wrecked my life and year with this dumb stupid SECURITY OFFICER REGISTRATION ACT OR SORA, and now he hits me again, the stick shaker. My friend David Roth never liked him and warned me that he would be trouble for us huge time, down the time-line, soon after he said all this a few times, David was feeding the worms, and has been now since March of oh-two, precisely two years after they murdered my mother. Well Guv, spell checker recognizes Ratatouille but not you, HAHA. Well, some people are strange, they know for example that their livers are shot to Dogtown, but on they go, boozing it up with a fifth of new poisons each and every day. So why are Governors any different? I guess some people never learn. I mean, I do not bother a soul, but when I say storms are coming to avenge what you puke heads are doing to me, they come, am I wrong? Then they attempt to discredit me with reports on how weather experts knew that huge killer twisters would come. They knew kit. I knew what Diana was going to do to get back at enemies for all that they are and have been doing to me, and just how severe it would be. If they tell you that these experts knew this, then why did they not evacuate with hurricane type mandatory warning, give me a break, who do you puny Earthling’s think you’re dealing with here, the turnip truck faller offer???? Just ask Trump, the guy has three times more lightning rods on his buildings and places than anyone else, he knows that Diana is my friend, and that he is my enemy. I do not make threats, it is all of you power mongers running the show that won’t leave me and my poor innocent whittle life alone for one rotten single day, so do not be surprised when astrals plane gods get you back for it, ouch, I know what pain feels like. Ooops, ouch. None of you will be able to pass laws in my Mountainpen lifetime for my electronic-metaphysics counterattacks on your evil empire, so live with it, or well, we won’t type that one in. Can’t you all just stop hurting me and leave me the rock trucking Dogtown alone, PWEEEEEZE!!!!!!!! Thankx 4 nuttin’. Yes, if my stamps have some value, I will move out of my kit hole vely vely freaking shortly. If people in an area are forever influenced to hate your rotten guts, then leaving that scummy area is the best and really the only option; and I told the dream man yesterday, “I am leaving this town and this state, just as soon as I can”. He did not seem to like hearing it. Yeah, they want to tax us all, control us all, and truck with us all like little packman blobs, but oh, please don’t leave, because then, who are we going to have pleasure victimizing now? It is like the sick kids playing in a sandbox, the bullies that love to muscle flex and up set all the good kids just trying to have fun and live. A challenged child can see the logic of it all, but society will not permit this, the child if anything will be taught by “their system”, oh that mentally ill MOUNTAINPEN, he is a certified Looney collecting government bennies, don’t listen to that sick nut. 8 letters in his name and 8 is the name of his section, they will tell them. PROPAGANDA, I was taught this was used by the big bad Soviets during the cold war, sure, believe the lies and the prop.

Well, I was bombarded with EVIL EMPIRE RUG COMPANY garbage commercials on the television cable system back on Thursday, sure enough, this was the good day of the week for their crooked Dow Jones, and it flew up on that day if my information is correct, yes I am aware that it dropped some on the week. I am only discussing the MUZAK TEASING SYNDROME that has been ongoing with me since about 1980, almost 30 freaking years of being harassed and teased by diseased pure filth buckets. I may abbreviate this in other following texts as MT syndrome or simply MTS. It includes all the crapola they do to me when I walk into stores and malls and public places that are indeed hooked up to this big-brother system.

Let me talk about my clock, mirror, and bottle with two lids containing a mega huge horse fly inside. There is a chance, I first feel the need to tell my blog-aud this, and maybe I am somewhat paranoid, it is normal after suffering my kind of endless hell, that all of this STATE OF NEW JERSEY INSPECTION, and private invasion into peoples home’s and lives, is a total conspiracy to get at my Masonic documents regarding my family lineage, other very private documents, my Otamm file, and not to mention, my integretronized horsefly, my strange clock, and my empowered mirror by using the clock on it. But moving along, my passport photo, recently taken late last year at the post office in Hammonton, NJUSAESMWG, looks like what I will look like a long tome from now, I look nothing like what this camera sucked out of me and created an image from. I totally believe that Bradlees Department store had a special agent go in the day I purchased the clock and mirror, and fixed it so I would consume these two products on that day, and here is why I believe this: Strange pop-up type people were popping up all around me, and by the way and in reiteration, Dave Roth and myself used this expression of POP-UPS, long before the music channels supposedly ‘started’ it in the nineties. The stories I will share someday on my website about pop-up entities that we witnessed and all of what went down over 15 years or so of duration, and backed up with the sound bite of our recorded taped conversations, some on the telephone, with permission, and some right in my own living rooms at varying residences, will blow all of your minds. A prior error, or PBHE, I said the odds would be one times 50, expressed as 1X50, and this was not accurate and would simply be 50, so why would I write this stupid thing? I know I put the following odds expression on the word-document, 1X10 to the exponent of 50. Anyway, shall we move on again? Beauty queen model type young girls of 19-30 were appearing all over, some were hitch hiking; one practically threw herself in front of my vehicle along a side street. I ignored all of them, I knew some gigantic spiritual force was at work, and time permits no real lengthy details on just exactly why I believed this and why I would not have a thing to do with any of it, but my reasons were very real. Lots of word-hacking from micromossed is ongoing, they do not want certain detailed secrets out, well I have no secrets, just a bright searchlight, and a Special Weapons and Tactics team’s door-rammer, and you can call me the CLOSET-DOOR-BREAKER bwaby-wuv-Elmer-Fudd!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NO SECRETS HERE, open door policies only, I have nothing at all to hide, it is MO/WOMO MKILITUFORCE/OTAMM SCUM that wants the lights out and the door firmly bolted shut, as their evil wicked diseased deeds are not exactly what would make their mama’s proud ofem. Let me now attempt to abridge this day where I purchased at this department store, my clock and mirror. Every aisle was blocked for one spurious reason or another when I was trying to buy a simple pair of Fruit of the Loom underwear. As I come up on the area where clocks were sold, a man worker stopped me dead and said this lovely kitchen clock has a tiny scratch on it and the manager is telling me to tell customers coming through my aisle that it is two thirds off, just over 7 bucks, and it was lovely and worth the full 21 easy, so I told him to put it in my shopping cart and he did, this is the beginning of the story of this clock, which is an ongoing story as I pen these words now. So on I walk and more aisles seem to be blocked that lead to the underwear men’s section, and I walk into where these rectangular mirrors are all for sale, and on sale. A voice suddenly comes from what I thought was a cute promotion, either a taped message or a live aisle clerk, hiding in the next aisle, only it was neither. The message said that these mirrors with the fancy wooden bases were a one day priced special of 80% off, and only selling for twelve bucks. This was an extra large and beautiful mirror, and I managed to get it into my cart, and it weighed a ton for me. I as you know am a major weakling, as one particular ten or eleven year old blond girl from Mays Landing, NJUSAESMWG can tell you from personal experience, see my recent blogs. So next I got my underwear after all of this, and proceeded to the checkout line of the Bradlees Store, and every blocked aisle in the short 5 minutes that were involved in all this, was now as though they never had been at all obstructed. When I got to the line, the manager, who I knew, Miss Boswell, walked by, and I told her how clever she and the store were regarding the mirror incident. She hesitated a few seconds, gave me a very strange look, and asked me what I was referring to. As I started telling her what had occurred, she abruptly stopped me and said,” We do not do those types of things here; it would be against store policy. I cannot imagine what you think you might have seen or heard”. Her assistant had come along at this time and heard the tail end of our conversation, and as they walked off, I heard them giggling and saying that I do not have the top floors visited by my elevator. Then the dude in front of me who mush have heard it also looked at me strange and said to me, “U start drinking this early”? He had purchased 2 forty and 2 sixty pound dumb bells and I wasn’t about to give this kind a dude any lip so I totally ignored him. The cashier was a luscious Hispanic girl about 21 years old give or take, and stretching in her heels to measure five-two. They got talking as he was getting wrung up and she told him she works out with 80 pound dumbbells and he laughed and did not believe her. She then went on to say, as he was ugly as an electric eel on two legs, pointing at me while I stood behind him in the check-out line, “if I can do 10 quick overhead presses in each hand with each of these 60’s, he’s godda go out on a date with me tonight”, meaning me. I was never so scared and embarrassed in my life, and was having the epitome of what I now refer to as a WEIRD-DAY. Well, there I am with my shopping cart and my Bradlees credit card in my hand, almost passing out on my feet, my heart racing, as this powerfully built young beauty queen Mexican-American girl, grabs the two [60-POUNDERS] and with the ease of an ocean wave crashing effortlessly onto a beach, does not 10, but 15 perfectly un-rocked presses with one arm and then the other one by one for a total of 30 combined repetitions, and then after a 5 second rest, squeezes out 5 more to make it 20 and 20, with only the final 5 being at all a strain for her to do. The guy was glaring at me and threw his cart off to the side and walked out of the store. Then she mocked him as he left, shades of me, I was silently thinking to myself. Then with a commanding voice she said, we’ve got a date, right? I gave her a fake name a phone number and was real nice to her, but made sure I did not ever go back to that particular Bradlees Store ever again, and no, I did not keep the date. This was beyond WEIRD-DAY; this was OFF THE DIALS DAY. So I got home with my strange clock and mirror, and within a week, I noticed that the reflection of me in this mirror made me look older and uglier. After a few uses for shaving and basic early morning hair grooming, I did not hardly recognize myself in this mirror. But When I went to another mirror in the house, I looked younger, and younger. By pure accident I placed this mirror atop of my bedroom credenza in length direction. As you know I tend to turn clocks around when it gets near to the one-eleven or the eleven-eleven times both in the AM and the PM. The clock was positioned in front of the mirror, and I turned it directly into the mirror at these times. One day I moved the clock entirely, and placed it against the wall facing the blank side so as to help me to miss these {one} numbers, and then I suddenly became so angry as I just realized that now a space was showing where a small electric clock that had been in the family since 1960 was right in front of me showing the time in analogue as eleven past one. I unplugged this other clock and threw it right threw a lightning electrostatic ball that was on at the time, and everything broke and shattered. I yelled truck you ten times as loud as I could and acted extremely immaturely for a forty-something man, and I did not yell TRUCK. Suddenly the clock on the credenza had pieces of the broken lightning ball on top of it and just as I went to unplug this broken ball, the clock began to make weird noises and I swear, it seemed to speak words. Nothing was intelligible accept for what I believe I heard at the very end of this 20-30 second event, and it said, “Now I Power”. Ever since this, the clock when turned into a corner or faced into a wall, stops not only itself, but the time passing in that immediate area, extending an effected range of about 15 inches tops from the area connecting the walls and the clock. I have placed cooked meats and glasses of milk out for 20 days and nights, and they are perfectly ok to eat and drink, they cannot spoil, as they are not really out for any real time at all, as time is not passing in that small area. I tried getting into computers in the middle nineties, and was in with three guys in the Berlin Radio Shack, NJUSAESMWG. I had two of these men over to my house and they were trying to see why a TV card would not properly make my computer work on my 27 inch color TV, which was also a full monitor. The one fellow knew many occult esoteric secrets and was a treasure house of information on the subject. He must have had a very dark side to him from doing all of this, and here is why I say this. He had never even once looked at his reflection in the mirror, not once, where as Fred and I at least once, as guys do when they think that their hair is not straight, give a quick glance to the mirror and with two hands quickly straighten and pat their hair. He avoided my weird mirror like a vampire supposedly would, knowing they are not giving off a normal reflection. But even without Craig looking, I was looking through it at him, and then back at him directly, and so forth, and talk about trucking weird, WOW. I kid you not, it was like looking at the devil himself when looking at his reflection, yet I would look back at him, and if anything, his interactive reality grew nicer than ever, as though super amounts of negative energies were literally being pulled out and away from him and into the mirrors’ reflective ness. Now I could tell much more, and will at later times, but wish now to move on to Haddonwood and the planes dropping out the nanobots at me, or the huge black flies. Sarah-Stacey just told me to get back to this later and discuss a different topic.

My family curse is real, even my cousins scoff and do not take it very seriously, yet they all have referred to the Mason Curse. Basically, if I do not marry and have a male child offspring with someone of child bearing years, before it is too late for me to do it, the world will end. My health is basically gone thanks to Otamm and what these trash have done to me. I told you I am weaker than many ten year old children. This was revealed in a bold in my face manner last week at the Mays Landing WAWA store. The enemy naturally wants this special family to end, and the world as well, as it will, if I do not have a male offspring. I thought David or Barry, or a son of Stacey-Alice or Jeri or the twin of SA whose name eludes me currently, sahwee, would be chosen and I would die, but SSJKK, tells me in my head this very second and I am typing as fast as I am able, the keys that she is directing me to hit. First, I was going to learn to dance; I do not drink or dance, not good for clubbing or meeting women. Just as I was checking into dancing schools a year or more back, my knees on both sides, out of the blue, one day, poof like freaking Copperfield magic, just gave out, leaving me sort of crippled, let’s say not a candidate for the next disco awards, Donna. Every time something is promised me regarding a girlfriend for me, boom, Copperfield/Blain again, or perhaps said more accurately and honestly, SATANIC/DEMONIC activity comes out of nowhere, and prevents it from realizing, every single time just like precision ‘clockwork’. Case and point, Ann’s daughter Dawn gave her mom a name and address, and said I should write to this girl in jail, she is getting out soon and has a nice SS benefit about equal to mine, so if we hit it off, we could live off of $1,650 plus my 24 hours @$8/Hr on my New Jersey Workability program, permitted me under state law. The very same day that I got the name and address, the two girls had a fight in jail over some food, and Ann’s daughter had me give her mom back her name, end program again Riker number one Enterprise. What chall fail to see is that this is not an isolated event; this is 53.1+ years of my life as Michael Mountainpen. Then when young teen queens start with me, the law says that I have to smile and politely say sorry and go on, and I OBEY THE LAWAS OF HITLER AND NAZI GERMANY, AMERICA, OR ELSE!!!! Why cousin David or cousin Barry, second cousins, or even third male cousins being any sons of Sandy’s three kids, that I know of, maybe more than 3 kids, our family is not tight, or not with me anyway, but why none of these can assume the curse is beyond me, is everyone in Cali a queer, Jason???????? Oh, I am so out of this new PC world, if the Q word is offensive, don’t mean anything babeyslice, homosexual if you prefer, me, I do not prefer. They would have to kill off every woman on the planet, and then I would have to be so desperate that my thrill rocks would be on fire. This is the entire conclusion that I’m able presently to draw, but I am hearing the great ALL MIGHY SAR and I must obey my great queen or risk her unfathomable wrath. She says type this in, I type this in, my big brown eyed love. When the powerful Spanish American Bradlees store cashier did what she did, I was just to scared of her, Chrissake, how many of you can grab two sixties and pump them easily left right left right for 15 times, not even struggling or breaking out one bead of sweat? Then and listen, if you have 8 months to just listen to me ramble we could cover every singe story since I have been 13 or so, but there was a school project involving a tape recorder, we were practicing being journalists, asking the right questions after we would stage a story, there would be the reporters, you get it. Anyway the special eders like me were joined on this project, with the rehabbers like Sarah Jacobson. There was a girl in Sarah’s group, long yellow hair, 5 foot ten, slender and built like a tank with knockers that would take doors off hinges. She was the murderess in the plot along with Tracy and Rhonda from my class, no not Diana’s daughters; they were not yet dreaming they are who they are by our reference to the illusions of the STC, [space-time-continuum], didn’t want anyone confusing that abbreviation with Summer-Trump-Callio, the gods forbid!!!!!! So making a long story as short as I can, I come in with my recorder, hand held small cassette machines were around in the start of the seventies, just not micro or these digital toys, except maybe for Jimmie Bond. Anyway, after we all did our thing and were graded, since this was my own and not the schools’ tape machine, I still had it, and the blond bombshell whose name I think was Claire, a super 16 year old beauty queen, started singing into my machine and then she said she would like for me to take her out on a date, and proceeded to say her telephone number onto the tape. I got home that afternoon and played it back but it was all singing, when she gave me her number, it simply came out blank, all of this is real by the way, not made up fiction like a George Burns “Oh God” movie, this all happened to my butt. Remember the horrific sound that came through my radio when it was off and the propane fuel story I told you all about some time back. This is real, and not one trucking pig out there in this sick and insensitive non caring world could give one rotten rats grass. Trouble is, this is not years ago, and I know a lot about the electromagnetic spectrum that no one else has a clue about, right down to what and WHO it and they are, THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL, THE ASTRAL WORLD AUTHORITY. Yes, you guessed it, this was the last day for me at the school; and from there it was on to computer school at the PC Institute. I took a bus to the school in Cherry Hill, actually 2 busses, and a system called the Haddonfield DIAL-A-RIDE, don’t even go here, the stories I could tell of girls from 12-17 that came on to me and even touched me where they shouldn’t be, and I was at this time just over 18, so this makes it a crime, as now overnight, I have been on this ball of hurl, a few extra spins of light and dark periods, laws, some are necessary and great, most are absurd and oppressive, and the cops and legies are the worst in-the-closet offenders of them all, for the most part. But the girl from school in Sarah J. Cobson’s class, as I kiddingly tease Sarah and shouldn’t, as she says, I WILL NOT BE MOCKED, but I think as THAT BOY I might get off with a warning and a sore astral body, but when we met, I still was 17, it was November of 1972. When I left in the first week of February of ’73 to attend the computer institute through the Camden, NJUSAESMWG REHAB SERVICES of the state of NEW JERSEY, I had all ready turned 18 and had my draft card and was ready to go to Vietnam and serve my country, but Nixon called off the war. Lucky for the world he did in the mood I was in then, give me an M16 and some training back then when I was good and pissed at the world, and I would have won that war for America, just like Sergeant York, single, and single-freaking handedly!!!!!!!! I had no body and nothing and never was afraid of death; I hated death for taking away many that I knew, such as Ziggy my beach pal for starters. Now, death and I are old pals, he just annoys me with that stupid sound he makes, oh well. That’s OK Morty ya’ ol’ son of a sea serpent-U. I knew many wheel chair bound persons whose chairs needed a good oiling job, so whether it is a loud high pitched whine noise or a mousy squeaking, I can live with it, until Morty says I can’t anyway. Smiley faces: . Why blogging sites will not program to accept faces sure is beyond my whittle compwehension Elmer!!!!!! Oh Morty Mortino please let me visit you in your office in the great beautiful city of SAHASRA DAL KANWAL. I love coming to this city, and I despise and detest with a quintillion passions having to live physically here on this rotten Earth!!!!!!! Morty, I have tried to tell humans not to fear you, they hate you as I used to, and will not listen to a thing that I tell them. If they would just Google up the FASCITAR and read what I tell the world, and practice this silly exercise for one lousy week, they all would see and then they’d have to freaking believe. The real trick is not just flying around the mortal plane with an astral body. It is during the re-entry and re-coincidence back into physicality where one truly masters and knows forever that all I speak about is total truth. It is during this point of frozen paralysis and awareness to this strange condition that the wonders can really begin. You just keep willing yourself to escape the bonds of the physical world, tell yourself as it is occurring, as you may be totally frozen but you can think with pure and perfect clarity, that you wish to be in the great city with the great Stacey Jehovah and see her for yourself, or be in the great Olympia where you can meet the lightning goddess Diana Zudlecronessia Arteemis, her cousins Fortuna or Venus, her brother Apollo-Lucifer, they are all around somewhere, just think of them, and as Terry Jackson and his sun seasons say, “and they’ll be there!!!!!! It is no bull snap. If you want to meet SSJKK’s mom and dad, Carlittia-Mariena and Neptune-Jupiter Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious Krassle, or Diana’s mom and dad, Zeus and Leda, or even Diana and Apollo’s powerful grandfather, ZUDLOWCHRONOUS, they all are there in and around Olympia proper. Dream-shift is the higher reality, the split microsecond you think anything, it is all one and the same with you, along with the needed space and time to go along with your thought-created interaction. There never really was or is your aunt Tillie, not there, not here, the news whether you can handle it or not is simple, it is always and forever as real as you make it, here and there, true reality is void infinity, I refer to this as the original phase of entity-existence or the PHASE-ONE, go to my website and read all about it, www.morianity-foundation.com. Do not let this Mickey Mouse site bother you. I have no time or money to do all the things yet to this site that eventually will get done. I will get the backing I need to do it if I have to Google off my fingers and contact every person who has had near-death experiences, these will be my most receptive freaking audience anyway. When you reach that lucky time where you lay suspended and frozen and awake and paralyzed, now, you have it within your power to leave the mortal realm behind, still in a perfectly healthy body, see and taste all of these wonders, and then come back and REALLY, join MORIANITY. There is nothing to fear, everything is waves and particles and programmed out of the 8th dimension in ways a computer the size of our galaxy could not hope to grasp. Reality is too simple to be perceived by complex modes of thinking processes, biological or mechanical. All there really is or ever can be is nothing, the void infinity. The only bad news is that if you are reading this, you exist. Existors can never reach eternal rest, oblivion, nirvana, just as concentrically, non-existors can never exist. These are the true and legitimate owners of NIRVANA. But it is always one or the other. See how simple and powerful total truths really are? Oh, but if and when you really get it, you’ll know it, as a shiver will race up and down from your spine right through your grass hole. Then, you will know, and you WILL know. At this point you’ll clearly see why gods must endlessly use DISTRACTION and how and why they choose the method of GAMES to accomplish their impossible goal. I know as they know, but do not choose to play games, I will suffer throughout forever, games by my way of thinking just does not properly slice through the mustard. Hay, you know the old saying, it is whatever works for you, friends and fiends. Games do not work for me, even though I have numerous copyrights, as a teenager, on games, such as the one I mention on blogs over and over from ’72 or ’73, called LIVELONG. The Bee gee’s ripped this off with their song Stayin’ Alive, and also Gibb and his girlfriend Marcy Levy, no less, a song I had just done months back in 1979 called LOST LOVE, I believe on my website, you can click DONNA-2, and hear it, DONNA-1 is THE MORNING LIGHT, oh well, better men than me have been hurt by better women than her. Screw everybody. All I am doing when I say this, is screw all of the other parts of me that are not me directly, void infinity or zero dimension is true reality, we all are really ALL ONE, dreamed out into these countless and unfathomable 5th dimensional hyper-spatial-interactions. Maybe you can see some of the truths Jesus taught, I just curse and trash talk more, and am not as forgiving, even though I also know, as he does, that I am only directing negative energies at other parts of my very self.

I said that when typing on a computer, a wireless laptop anyway, but I would be willing to bet even a desktop, that with good headphones plugged into an FM analogue radio, at a dead spot, you can hear each keystroke and click and mouse move, etcetera. You do not need a dead spot; you can hear it as you listen right to a station. Now for the point and counter-point, referred to from now on as the PACPO on future web logging texts, Ed says that it is one way and that no one can insert the sounds that would make the machine have a function. I still say, and with sound studio and electronics experience, WHY NOT? Does anyone wish to comment? If on no other part of these words, the PACPO would be a great section, as it represents polite arguments/differences of opinions with Ed Himacane and me, so why not eventually lead into including anyone. After all, I invite all opinions, if you want to call me a kit head and tell me to go do wrist and arm exercises, then that is your right, I am a FREEDOM OF SPEECH PERSON, AND A 60’S KID, remember? It shocks me that no one I trash talk bothers to come out and tell me to go to Dogtown. Of course it shocks me not much. They know they are guilty of what I’ve accused them of publicly, hey man, would I really walk blindly and deeply at a high rate of speed into a slander and libel trap? But just in case any one of you garbage bags wants to play GAMES, I will now assign what I’ll call PACPO#’s as follows, just log into my website guest book under these numbers if you want to, or comment right on the blogging sites, your cherce Archie Bunker. SNYDER 300, TRUMP 305, SUMMER 310, MCGUIRE 315, CALLIO [SARAH] 320, CALLIO [OTHER MEMBERS OF THIS LOVELY CLAN OF ANGELS 325, MARTNO-HUBBY OR SENIORS 330, PAULA KING 335, OTHER FRIENDS OR PAST GANG MEMBERS OF SCM 340, ANYONE WISHING TO SHARE ANNONOMOUS TIPS ON THINGS I TALK ABOUT WITH THESE NAMES 345, GENERAL NEW JERSEY CHAT/RESPONSE TO MY BLOGS 350, FEDS, ANY LAW ENFORCEMENT, ANY AGENCIES 355, MILITARY INVOLVED 360, CHILDREN OF THESE PEOPLE, JUST DO IT IN THE PRESENCE OF SOMEONE OVER AGE 18 SO WE ALL STAY OUT OF TROUBLE 365.

OK, so now codes from 300 to 365 in increments of 5 have been established, so here is an example of one good one and one bad one, hay go for it, you say you’re all into games for Chrissake, lets play, ya freaking chicken?

EXAMPLE OF A NASTY LETTER:
To mountain scum from #340, hay puke 4 brains, what did you eat your whole life besides skunk squat? Shove your PACPO up your %&*#$%&*^, just let me say that you are wrong about Sarah, she is a fine person and you’re a real dirt hole, get lost and go away scank breath. U may remember me, the girl who said your face is all messed up when we all were riding the bus to Main Street, well, it is way uglier now, yuk, die piss-head.
EXAMPLE OF A NICER LETTER:
Mountainpen-PACPO #300
It is not me doing these things to you, but I may be able to put you onto who and what, first you have to retract all you have said about me and my Hockey team, the Flyers are a bunch of great guys who do not deserve your badmouthing and trash-talking. If I can help you find out more of why this hell around you seemed to start when you would holler into your phone, “lose you bastards, lose”, would you sign a form saying you will desist from blogging negative falsehoods about my team and myself and retract all previously said things of a negative nature? Answer me without using my code number with simple yes and no and I will figure it out, we’ll then take it from there, I think I can help you, but I will want 40% of monies you may recover as a result of my help and your prior slanders. Set up an account on blogger.com so we can talk e mail to e-mail outside the scope of the blog readership. #300

Hay, it is all of you that love games and play so much, well, let us see if you are all talk and no action out there, any takers, even fakers, oh I’ll know the diff. Just how stupid do you really think I am? Oh, real stupid, well, then go ahead, see if you can freaking fake me out, or if the real cast wants to play, that’s dynacool to as they say next decade when President Thompson declares war on China. Oh, don’t panic, hyperspace is tricky, there is margin for error, the quake however comes first, actually quite soon ladies and lads, a bad one!!!!!!!!

Let me tell you about a place in the late 21st century where I go to often, actually nobody ever goes anywhere, we all are perpetually existing without interaction at void infinity, until we dream out and away from this state as the 8th dimensional exim ratio. But onto point again, I am good friends with a man who I have not yet met, and maybe never will meet if the HS is not close enough for a potential time-line merging. This man is the grandson of Mister Law and Order Prosecutor turned vote-4-me-4-P. I knew back in the seventies that this man at the age he is in the Law and Order times, would exist, and run twice for US presidency, getting it the second time around. Shortening a very lengthy story, I know him in the future and from this area, I never go to Tennessee, the south as great as it is, is too hot a place for me, I like it a bit cooler, would never live there. I really want to tell the world about the huge event, some would call it catastrophic, I choose the word huge; no it does not end life on Earth for mankind, as all that is pure Hollywood fiction. However, it is big, and that is all you will get out of me so live with it. People get lazy and really far out, as the technological age mixes and merges with a return in full bloom to the spiritual awakenings of the 1960’s. Can you imagine the sixties and even today simultaneously existing and crashing into each other? It gets better though. Music and television without radios and TV’s, WO. More than one sequence of accepted events, not just broken groups, but now the right to broken accepted histories and chronologies, and even calendars, un-nerving! I was in his house before lots of new stuff had replaced the old, my favorites were seeing speakers rotating on discs, and kit-machines being sold at affordable levels, ways to build things like a catalogue today, and then there it is, in 3-D, this is not limited at sex slaves. Most boys 13 have 3 of them and it is driving their parents born around 40 years from now, totally squooks, beyond nuts as today’s lingo puts it as. The spinning wireless audio gets me, they are times to give a new dimension to sound, it’s literally freaking awesome. When time permits, I will tell you how these dreams as a boy to use forward and mortal lingo, connect into this and one of my friends back then, Bruce, the electronics man. Things all connect, and no, this Bruce the Monopoly Cheater, is not the Bruce who decided to marry Donna Summer, on LIFEGUARD DAY, THE 15TH OF JULY, BACK IN EIGHTY. Go to www.acbp.com. What I will say is that more about these affinities with Atlantic City, with Donna, and all of these things will be further looked into and fully investigated as my blogs move onward, but for now, here I am on the next night at work, with a different set up at Himacane assured me would work, IT DOESN’T. He said to plug the one thing into the left port and all the connections into the main part, but after the boot up, up comes a godsdamn window that says that things may not operate properly as they were sensed, and sure enough, nothing worked. I am taking no chances messing with this stupid machine, I will use the laptop mouse-pad and no external keyboard, this one works just fine. It is about half past one on Sunday morning now, and we will just keep moving this along. To amend a prior text, I was discussing making a row of nine random outside-bets in roulette using regular playing cards, and told you to add one point on all follow scores as the columns of wins and losses proceed downward, but omitted accidentally, to inform you, to subtract one point on all opposite scores. Follows are when wins follow wins and losses follow losses, and opposites are when wins follow losses and when losses follow wins, really quite self explanatory, but let me spell it out anyhow. Again after perhaps ten rows of these columns, as it may vary from game to game as Bob Segar would say in his STILL THE SAME, 70’s song, as you continue adding up a total number for all 9 columns in the row, row by row, and ignoring the sign of the number such as plus 4 and minus 3 and plus 5 and minus 2, just add them all up as 4, 3, 5, and 2, and so forth, and total the answer at the far right of the rows of columns, on each row. Eventually, a range works out in most games and tables, or randomly with playing cards, where it is not going above 29-total or going below 23 total, so as it approaches the high end or the 29, your next row of 9 columns would all be bet so as to make the following outcome bring the total for that row closer to the direction of the trend. This will be hard to get used to if you have no background in mathematics but it is really just a numbers puzzle that you are solving. So at 28 or 29, the next row is bet so the new total of that current row is lower than 29. So if a score in a column is a plus 5, you would bet for an OPPOSITE OUTCOME of the row above your particular column that would bring the new score in that column down to a plus 4, but concentrically, remember that if your column score is a minus 7, you still want the outcome to bring the number of 7 down one to a 6, so in negative numbers, you would bet for a FOLLOW OUTCOME, sort of like the old mariners saying for sailboats, “It is the set of the sail and not the gale, that determines the steer that we go”. If you want numbers to climb in your next column, after getting the total down around 23 or 24, and this is the bottom of a range, now you bet opposite from your last method. Now you make bets that would increase number totals for the next row. Hence you would wish to make positive scoring columns FOLLOW and negative scoring columns GO OPPOSITE. The row directly above your present column’s row is what you use to make comparisons. If you are trying to bet a FOLLOW EVENT, and the event above your row in that column was a WIN, naturally you are betting to follow with a win, so again, look up at your very top first line where you chose at random, to bet either a RED, BLACK, LOW, HIGH, ODD, or EVEN, for nine columns. So if you want to follow a win and your original random choice was say BLACK, bet black to FOLLOW with a WIN. It always is referenced back to your first original 9 bets and whether they WON or LOST. Columns then keep two things in them for the entire rest of the game, one is whether or not the cards tell you that you WON or LOST, and what this outcome now brings your score to in that column on that row. Not only will there be ranges such as the 23-29 scores moving up and down, such as the hypothetical range I gave here, but there is also the climbing and falling as well as the ranging. If the total-row-score or the TRS is climbing and climbing row after row, then bet accordingly for the outcomes in the current column being bet to make the next total a new higher score, or a new lower score should the situation be in fact the reverse, with a falling TRS, and no, this is not TODAY’S REVENGE SECRET, but isn’t symbology incredible ladies and lads? And by the way, the night of the Super Bowl; this is what produced nearly 20 units profit with the jokers left in the deck representing a non-cheated true game with the house edge built in nearly perfectly. When I said I got wiped out on a system during this football game, this was a system, and not this. I do not call this, all though perhaps I should, A SYSTEM. It is more than a system by my way of looking at things; it is a newly developed way that I recently have learned to add to the mix of numerous strategies that I use, regarding querying cosmos with QUANTUM CARDDECKS. I now call this with no jokes meant, either the DOUBLE-QC, or simply my ultimate method of QCQC. You further could almost mockingly say to me that it is my Quality Control for LIFE itself. There is no joke to this, a player on a double black playing level can sit down with ordinary colored game table [non-money] chips, and leisurely play on average one out of three days, if these chips are market at $100.00 value by their little marker they put on your color near the wheel so they know your chip’s values at cash-out time, and you can enjoy your way to a nice 70 grand per year, just ‘gambling’. If you are even greedier, make your chips worth a grand, and play one each time, then play every day, and now you are closer to an annual ¾ of a million bucks. Get a consortium of ten people, do this for 5 years, and the value of your con is now a gross 50 times three quarters of a mill, say about 37,000,000.00 bucks [USD]. Naturally, half of this or close, will fund your favorite uncle, hay, we have a nation to run, I don’t have a problem with that. So do it with 15 people for 8 years to net out around 40 mill, or whatever, now start a land management company, taking over all the headaches of property owners, for a hefty chunk of their profit, and buy up the crummiest cheapest houses on all of the most expensive blocks in millions of towns and cities all over the country, hay, my mind is wandering, shades of STARBURN OUTREACH DEVELOPMENT, INCORPORATED, from another location in the great HS {HYPERSPACE}. I know how to make billions, I have just been STOPPED, every move I make, and every thing I ever try to do, by EVIL ASTRAL PLANE GODS, WORKING ENDLESSLY AND RELENTLESSLY THROUGH PEOPLE, WEATHER, ANIMALS, AND MACHINES. The WO or the world-owners, WOMO, literally under remote-control by the evil third of the great MILLIONTH COUNCIL, own and control everything, and decide who is permitted any of life’s happiness and who to pour out all of life’s miseries upon as well. The Millionth Council or the GREAT-MC manipulates everything around us, either too fast or to slow to be humanly recognized and perceived. You can never see your watch’s hour hand move even if you stare at it consistently for 12 straight hours. All you ever will see is that the hand indeed does make one full 360 degree orbit around the circumference of it, and that is all you ever are able to perceive. Take a bicycle and flip it over onto its seat and pedal it and observe the spinning wheels. These wheels have spokes that constantly move through this obstructed area, and if you put your finger through it, like-ouch. Yet you look through this field and it appears totally blank and open, completely unobstructed. Germs and microbes and atoms are all too small to perceive with merely our born 5 senses. I could go on and on, if I’ve not yet made my point, you are all BRAIN –DEAD!!!!! Things happen all around us all, and even the most powerful 50 families as well, or else they would die just as we all die. Germs and nanobots of all types, be them of a biological or mechanical nature, same difference, it is all just as real, and just as much happening to and around all of us. Yet for those that wish to keep dreaming in this silly place in a single dreaming sequence, over and over with the illusion of new days and nights and events, when all is nothing but waves and particles, and only void infinity is pure total truth, but for those that are too stupid to see this, you can simply connect a powerful frequency generator, electrical invertors, and a magnetic resonance imager [MRI-tunnel, or cat-scan device], and after inverting the signal, isolate north and south polarized frequencies fed into the freak generator, pipe in the pulsing multi-waves at high power into the imaging tunnel, and send the north-pole vibrating waves harmonically mixed from lowest to highest, roughly producing frequencies close to 1 times 10 to the power of 12 positive and 1 times 10 to the power negative, running these scales up and down and reprogramming the DNA of every cell in your entire body to be exactly what it was originally designed to be including its ability to reproduce perfect copies. This is compared with a digital or analogue recording, by that I mean to say that if you start with a master and make a copy, but then the copy becomes the new master, digitally, you would have no generational degeneration copy to copy, where as with a tape or a photocopy machine, the copy of the copy deteriorates to the point of {nothing left} of the original that is left, or the death of the original. This is the cellular way that biological entities are permitted both entrance and exit from astral world dream downs, into this physicality. Machines like this all ready exist in secret places, and fortune 50 people have access to them. I believe they know about the astral and how great the world of dream-shift is, otherwise, you would see Trump and Gates walking around looking 22 again, and you don’t. They know what I know, and I am starting to come to believe that they do not wish this information and knowledge that I am spreading through my MORIANITY shared with the masses, after all, do they desire to share any of their material wealth with the masses? Things really are not hard to put together, you know, 1 and 1 is 2, and 2 and 2 is 4, and 4 and 4, well, you get it. I do not trust these powerful people from here to the back of my face. They all are in my belief, sold out and merged and mixed and meshed and literally MARRIED to the BRIGGERS, the evil third of the great MILLIONTH COUNCIL, THE GREAT ASTRAL WORLD TOTAL AUTHORITY, elected every KALPA, or roughly 8 million Earth MW type of years. Then they dream down their THAT FAMILY here, just to play and distract in their endless games to forever avoid thinking about the truth that nirvana is lost to existors. So by being in control and total charge of the dream-shift, or ASTRAL-PLANE, they at least can plat god and even do it without playing. Let us for example examine my astral-interaction that I was able to vividly bring back with me here on the waking mortal world {MW}. Here I am with 2 people in my apartment bedroom, a huge CALLIO-PIPE is beneath my floor, my floor is all torn up, and the one dude is telling me that I can never beat him or win or ever come out the victor, no matter what I know or how hard I try, I can even know half a dozen celebrities for Chrissake, and it is all meaningless. Let me add that I cannot ever win a game, whether Bruce cheats or not is immaterial and totally irrelevant. I have played Bingo games hundreds of times; I know I told this story on other prior blogging texts. I cannot win a Bingo game, my luck [personal magnetic interaction with cosmos] for lack of saying this better with 1000 Harvard doctorate degrees, just totally trucking yuks. This is why I would ask my mother to make a call or talk to someone when it was really important, and she went to her grave never believing in the power of what I tried to teach her, and most of the time blatantly refused to help me, and of course, we both got hurt as a result of this, just as I all ready knew that we would. Her ‘magnetics’ as I believe I may have coined the usage of this expression and it is based on solid scientific foundations and principles, privately lab-tested by David Charles Roth and myself over a 10 to 16 year span of time, and was carefully analyzed and scrutinized by us. If she had taken just a few rotten minpers here and there out of her day to do what I totally knew and know to this very day, would have helped us t tremendously on many of our serious dilemmas that ensued practically on a daily basis, the timeline in this part of hyperspace, HS, with our lives would have been drastically altered for the better to put this in a major unexaggerated way. But know, sca-rue me, I know absolutely squat. At 18 years, a dude working for a Philadelphia amplitude modulation {AM} radio station in Philadelphia, PAUSAESMWG, a and moonlighted as an assistant under Michael Tedesco, at the computer institute in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, United States of America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way Galaxy, {NJUSAESMWG}, tested my intelligence quotient and this was in 1973. It was 180; and he jokingly referred to it as “ten mind points per year”, as I was 18. I am not even smart in my opinion, all though the IQ# appears to disagree, and never went past the eighth grade in any real regular non special education schooling system. Still, I am not the dullest butter knife in the drawer either bwaby-wuv, yet I am totally ignored by friends and family, and what I know is totally freaking meaningless to this sick and diseased world. As I said, I know what I know, and claim to only know what I really do know. I’m not into making stuff up or I’d tell you all how half of the starlets in Hollywood are writing secret love letters to me and I have them all published on my fantastic website of www.morianity-foundation.com, and that I even have them on video fighting over me and that all this will be posted on the site tomorrow. Sure I could say it, and the tek is even there to do it all and put me right in the middle, and it would prove ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, as it would be all total bull!!!!!!!!!!! But when I tell you that if I was not being MAJOR-MESSED-WITH, I could go to the casino and make a million bucks a year, or anything else that I tell you about on either the land of the living or the land of the dead, physical/astral, it is about as made up and nonsensical as shark attacks have to do with torn flesh, agony, fear, and blood!!!!!! I am not making up the things that I lay claim to baby love. I can put my arms out in front of me in water and float on my stomach and think “FORWARD”, and I move forward. So last night, speaking of moving without swimming, in pools, I opened a subject about the black horse fly nanobots released from the astral Milituforce airplane with the long white wings and black tips, while I would be in the outdoor swimming pool at the Haddonwood Health Club. They were integretronized using the combined MRI tunnel devices and technology that I spoke about a short time back on this blog. I have the one that I smashed with my fist and picked up and placed in my bathing trunks pocket. When I got it home an hour later, it was not smashed, totally normal, staring at me with those ugly beady insect fly-eyes it had. Insects are here for only one reason. Between one and three thousand years from now, worm hole science will be used on this planet and time travel experiments conducted. The successful experiments are why the pyramids are back in the past, and why all unexplained things for the most part are indeed occurring. Travel up to 10-16 thousand years is safe, but as always, limits are always pushed. A group of ambitious Science-Labbers secretly opened a project for sending about 400 persons back several billion years. 200 of them or roughly one half came instantly back and groaned and could not speak. They mutated into 200 varying insects as we perceive them as today. The other 200 remained in the past and multiplied and specie-branched and became the ants and cock roaches and flies and all of this nasty mess, it is all us, mutated from excessive field travel power.

During the afternoon while I lost my awareness to my Mountainpen dreams on the mortal world, or as you would say, I fell asleep, I had a very vivid and incredible dream. It ended where I was staring out of a large gorgeous window and have no idea where the window was, and the moon was lovely bright white in the distance with a haze starting to dim it just as I began staring at my lovely Diana, [the moon], and I said, “I will always love you Diana”. Suddenly the game’s expert from the rock and paper and scissors dream was standing to my left and a short distance behind me, perhaps 2 yards or a bit more. He said, “You really love her don’t you”. I responded instantly, “She is my moon, my lightning goddess Diana, she is beyond what I love and she is always inside of me and I am in her”. He couldn’t stop laughing at me while I remember glaring in anger at him for daring to mock the special love that the great goddess Diana and I as her Rictafarius share on the astral plane. He noticed me getting madder and laughed only harder and harder, even slapping his thighs and drooling on the rug. He said to me,” You were invited over to my place so you could get a nice view of the moon, not to hand me all this horse#@$^, so shut up willya”? At this point I knew I was at this dudes home, and seemed to know that it was high up in the mountains in the Middle Western part of the United States. I remember this clearer than all the minutes that I have been back here dreaming as Michael Mountainpen right up and through the present time while sitting here banging on little squares to produce this Word-Document. I yelled at him to go and do it to himself, and that Diana is real and that she loves me. He laughed harder and louder, and just kept slapping his thighs with his hands in rhythm to his raucous evil laughter. Then this monkeycum-drinker said to me, “Your book of Beach”, what an a&&h%%%, dja think we were there to fix your pipe or take your stuff away from you, ya’ fat little dope”? This guy is about 6 foot 6 inches and has a washboard set of abdominal muscles, and good sized arms and shoulders, built real solidly. Before moving on here, in this waking life, this is precisely what THEY are trying to do to me with this inspector and state of New Jersey legal bull kit, take my stuff away from me, it is all a huge evil wicked satanic conspiracy now, JUST AS IT ALL WAS BACK THEN IN 1969. But let us move along again Lads and Lassies, wolf-wolf. I didn’t give a kit how big this weird maintenance worker was, you laugh at me and treat me like a clown and steal my personal property, and I’ll pick up a lamp and a gallon of water and throw them both at you until Diana fries your glass. He then added insult to injury and poured salt in the wounds he made on my body by saying this final thing to me in this demonic interaction,” Sarah-Stacey and her cousin Diana are just using you and think you’re a big joke, ya’ tw#$”. I stared at him saying nothing at all and then put my arm and hand up in that nasty Italian sign, and looked out at the hazy white moon, and screamed out as loud as I could, “Diana, show him that you love me, bring me your lightning and make it the color of your long lovely hair my teen-queen”. Instantly, bright yellow lightning flashed all around where her moon was shinning, and her moon grew brighter than I had ever seen it before. It seemed to swish like a tail, staying mostly bright canary yellow as is the color of her long hair, and then changed to the most ravishingly beautiful orangey-yellow lightning streamers. She kept flashing it over and over for a solid minute or so. The maintenance guy from my interaction in my Oaklyn apartment, NJUSAESMWG was utterly amazed and beyond flabbergasted. He hollered out at the moon, OK now do this for me and show this nut case you don’t really love him. But nothing, the moon shone bright through a dark starry night up high in these mountains where this wicked dude has his home. After some silence, I screamed out, “I love you my Diana Arteemis, would you show him again how you love me with more yellow lightning for your little boy”? I no sooner finished the last syllable of this sentence, when instantly she flashed even more and brighter yellow lightning all around her moon and then swishing over to the left of it in lovely streamers. The man said to me at this time, “Who are you and why don’t you come forward”? I asked him what he meant and he would not speak. I suddenly remembered thinking that indeed I WAS thinking that I wish this guy would simply SHUT UP. He was trying to speak, grunting as though he needed ten boxes of Ex-lax tablets, yesterday. When I knew he couldn’t speak, I then fixed it so he could not move either. Then I called him a shortened name for a casino movie Jag Officer, over and over, watching his face work its way into awful looking contortions. Then Diana, without me prompting her any further, lightninged and lightninged, over and over, yellowy orange as well as purpled-silver, greenish white, and multiple bi and tri color combinations kept flashing, some were ribbon and intra-cloud type of lightning’s and others came hurling down to the Earth nearby. Then she stopped completely in an instant and her moon vanished and my blond, all 75 delicious inches of her, came right into the room, and she grabbed me and passionately kissed me. The next thing I knew we had dream-shifted into my airship and were hurling along at speeds not understandable to Earthers. We were in Ricktown and always had been. This is a section that some Ricktonians agreed in a mutual astral interaction to make as an area that resembles the Rock Mountains if the United States, and indeed a home that was facing the east was where this guy has his astral dwelling. This is a high area in Ricktown, only a short distance nest above this area is the borderline to the entire Olympian Province. The area community name of this place is Brodalee-Villas, and is a very beautiful area where the Earth’s moon shines extra large and bright even though of course it isn’t really there at all, and as I type, at 4:38 AM, I am getting a Morty Mortino visitation, he is passing by my right side. These mountains in Brodalee-Villas are just over 24 miles measured at 5280 feet to a mile in the mortal non-metric world. This dude that invaded my apartment may or may not have been sent there to remove the chain in 1969, as of now, I cannot get the great Sarah Krassle to tell me. The Chintelllamagrad Province lies above these mountain peaks about 3000 miles, and this is one of the most nest cities in the Olympian Province. I have many friends in the Chintelllamagrad Province, referred to there by many as the 440. I am not able to understand exactly why; I only know that this is a true statement. This province is like Disneyland on the mortal world, it is filled with children and amusement parks, and seashore resorts and you name it, times a million things beyond anyone’s’ wildest fantasies could ever start to grasp. Literally it would be considered a Garden of Eden for kids. It is 5 times the volume area of Olympia, about a third of the size of our mortal world Milky Way Galaxy, [MWG]. Remember that except for the truth, or the VOID INFINITY, nothing is really real, and thereby everything is really real, through dream away interactions, out of the void infinity, and this is all accomplished in the 8th dimension through complex lawtronic and exim-ratio equations in the endless process of solving or attempting to solve themselves, but endless cannot be used as proper descriptiveness, as without beginnings, there cannot be endlessness, and without a 4th dimension where starts and stops exist at, up in the 7th and 8th, it just simply IS.

Well Ann and I went to visit the code inspector of Mullica Township, and he will work with us as long as I clean out my clutter. I am purchasing a yard shed to put onto my lot and many plastic totes, and Ann will assist me to get all my clutter organized neatly into these totes, and then outside into the shed. I STILL CLAIM AND MAINTAIN THAT FREEDOM IN THIS COUNTRY IS TOTALLY GONE, AND MOST OF YOU CANNOT EVEN SEE IT. IT’S PITIFUL, AND LIEUTENANT VAN BUREN ON LAW AND ORDER COULDN’T SAY IT ANY BETTER IF THEY TRIPPLED HER ACTREE SALARY. You are all observing the hour hand on your watch, but you will never be able to really see the way THEY are changing your country and your world, these evil diseased wicked satanic filthy fortune-50, or THAT ASTRAL WORLD FAMILY, the great and mighty TAWF. It totally is TAWF’s goal and motive with or without ever using MOGOSP, Mr. Gates. TO OWN AND CONTROL ALL OF US LITTLE PAWNS AND NOTHINGS, ALL OF US WHITTLE 2’S AND 3’S IN LIFE’S DECK OF PLAYING CARDS!!!!!!!!!! 90% of computer smarties just don’t get MOGOSP anyway, it will just come up on us sociologically, like the hour hand example on your watch again, stare at it and never see it happen, but it does happen, 6:00 will become 9:00, and so forth, yet invisibly and COVERTLY, don’t laugh too quickly Mr. McCoy Griffin, it hasn’t happened to you, it hasn’t ever touched you or yours, so it is funny, HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!! {MOTIVE-GOAL} Software Program is real. People try to deny reality all the time, even Hitler tried to deny an entire race of human beings, this is real, THIS ISREAL. Symbolism is more powerful than 100 musclemen, forget that and you forget it all, BR!!!!!!!!!! Today there is not enough memory and speed and power to run programs much beyond automatic bill-pay, and things such as this, but with amplified power, speed, and memory, you can say to the system, I WANT A MILLION DOLLARS, and it will do what it has to do until it breaks or gets you that legitimate one million smacks. With this tek, as with any tek, use and misuse and abuse will always be a fact of life and will naturally thereby occur. If some body thinks Mountainpen’s guts need maggotizing, well then, “destroy the mother trucker” they can tell the computer, and well, THE REST IS HISTORY, or in this case reverse history. Go ahead, those that think this talk is pure nutcaseville, just go and ask BILL GATES. When they say to wipe me out, there is no visible evidence, stuff happens, until I am simply wiped out, everyone tells me that knows me for any real length of time, “nobody else could ever have suffered through all that you have and remained as sane”. There is absolutely no excuse, let alone any possibly rational explanation for last Sunday’s attack on me the day of the Giant Simpson Super Bowl Game, 4 Chrissake!!!!! MOGOSP is the only way to explain it. Now, if this is 40 years at best away in the futch, so the norms and even the geeks are saying, explain this one to us Mister Mountains. Ok homes, I will. If I can explain the evil rock and paper dude and his home atop the great Dwemlaservian Mountains of the great Province Olympia on the Phase-Two reality of the ASTRAL PLANE, I think that I can manage this whittle explanation, with simple [DISTANCE-DELAY-TECHNOLOGY]. Bouncing signals off of a distant location such as a meteorite that is 60 trillion miles from the Earth, or roughly the distance that it would take a signal to travel to in ten years time, would mean a bounce off would be a round-trip 20 light year distance. Once satellites run and operate the interconnected networking system of global computers, this MOGOSP can be applied once DDT is also worked successfully into the mix, and it will be, I all ready freaking know all of this. It is too mind bending to explain how things in a past relative to your present can be interacted with here in 2008, but twust me Elmer, it all is coming, like my 61st gwandpa’s uncle is coming, Mister Fudd!!!!!! This is not a hoax; neither is SWIS, or the World Labs. I have been there and seen that. Read “The Permission Barrier” book, go to www.copyrightoffice.com, and request the book, they will charge you for the copy, I do not get a penny, I do not want anybody’s money, my mission is to set up the MORIANITY FOUNDATION, and obey the will of the great All Mighty SSJKK. Distance delay is synthesized in a science soon to be referred to as FIELD TRAVEL. Just to give you the smallest visual idea to some of this, subatomic particles have many various orbits and frequencies. The tiniest parts to several of the pieces to these cosmic toys are why it takes such a tiny amount of mass in opposite polarities to transfer into pure fused energies that are not yet fully understood. If a control can be fused in where it totally stops the spinning of one of the two rotations, as opposed to playing with north and south poles of gravitation, instead of the normal cosmic BALANCED SPIN, one direction of the spin is stopped dead, leaving the other to develop immediate full velocity, and this chain reacts as many things do in the world of atomics creating domino effects of atoms nearby those that were first effected. These now racing systems can be placed into electromagnetic fields and without getting more complex than an Einstein blackboard, a field or STARGATE, is created, where signals and even super-atomic-masses, can be eventually inserted into an abscissa or an [A]-coordinate], literally moved instantly to a center point riding these velocitrons, and the split second signal or large masses reach center-point, the inverted opposite side pulls the signal/object through and out the ordinate or the [B] coordinate. I discussed this over bugged CIA telephones in the 1980’s with my pal Dave Roth and others, and then BOOM, along comes STARGATE, gimme’ a break, ya’ thieves!!!!!!! In 1979, I invented a working model of a HIGH-DENSITY FIELD TRAVEL SYSTEM in miniature, and talked about it over a bugged telephone by the FBI, to Benjamin Kaplan, an engineer who owned his own business in west Philadelphia. Don’t trucking tell me what is real and what can be done, I have seen lazar beams bounced off of the moon by a real crazy guru named Herbert Lets, back in ’83. Stories that I could impart would bend your brain into Pretzellville. Let the debate rage forever on whether it was Scottie or Ross that started the saying, THERE AIN’T NO STOPPING IT, I’d just be plenty happy to someday learn, who started it, and Y. What did I ever do to THAT FAMILY OR TAWF????????? They shoot me and turn my lungs into bloody washcloths. After all, who do these evil white-slavery scum-slimes think they are any way??

Computer hacking is starting, spell wrecker is annoying me, so I am ignoring it from now on. Go back to the sentence above, I challenge Funny Face Donna Fargo or any other English teacher from Ikebana, Cali to the Kentucky ‘JA-JAY’ coal mines, to tell me why spell-wrecker will not stop insisting that I use the word “THIS” in the last sentence of the previous paragraph, in lieu of these, it is absurd, why would I say this rather than these, on that sentence? It is a Microsoft hack job Stacey L. Jackattack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well Stacey, don’t turn the tape or move the make, just please tellemall to quit hacking, like Captain Hunter told me when he investigated for me in the spring of 1987, and learned that I am on covert agency lists as a hacker, even though I do not even own a freaking computer to this very day, ho-hum, life in these great United States, right Readers Digest?????? Yeah, and Iraq is storing all these weapons of mass destruction, said these same all mighty great cove agencies, when they told President Bush all these lies and started escalating this ridiculous war. Yes Lennie Beethoven Briscoe, the ‘two dollars’ or the Twin Towers Donna, did come down and 3K dead Americans are indeed why we declared war, but we all thought it was Bin Laden that organized this, not the brother of King Housien, yeah I’ll be damned and saddened before I would listen to those geniuses George. They think I am a computer hacker, if I was, you’d all know it. I’m just a poor bum who’s on the receiving end of all these darn hacks, BR, excuse me, I mean, Mister President. Personally, I think you did one hell of a good job, you toughed it out and ended the so-called early century bear market, but we both know George, there is no bear in the market. In long run it will go 7-13% up each and every year, and no matter who sits in the Governor’s mansion in Albany, New York, or in the Oval office. All and all, good show sir, I know they could not pay me a trillion dollars for your job, sir. Hay, ladies turn now, what can U say G?

If I had a machine of my own, I’d eliminate this spell wrecker nonsense, if someone doesn’t like the show, CHANGE THE CHANNEL!!!!!! I used to have fun using the quicker text messaging characters like 2 and 4 and C and U and so forth, but spell wrecker screws with you when you do it and if Ed sees lots of wavy lines he might piss around on the blog. If I cannot write what I want, and I told him this, no problem, I do not need this project, and gladly will return to my old style of life. Hacking is picking up big time, they know I want to let out a major Stacey-Dogtown-Vengeance-Secret, and I am mulling it over in my mind.

I think I’ll save it and remind you all how my ex bizz part and all his friends are no damn good at all and someday when I know where they are buried, I will use their markers as a urinal. I gave all of my blood money to all 3 of them, and got lied to and screwed, no one was a bit remorseful that this all led to a 360 thousand dollar personal second bankruptcy and a step down permanently into a miserable trucking trailer park and old ugly dingy trailer, real funny JO’s, tee hee hee and ha ha ha! Someone wanted a copy of his partner’s dance records one day, me, being that partner. He intentionally sends the person that could have helped to promote me for a change, a stupid country song. Yeah, here kitty, kitty, kitty, com, cat, purrrrrr, well, I am every bit as happy to be away from all 3 of you miserable losers as you are to be rid of me, your graves are mine someday.

If you do not think I am going to get to the bottom of what you are doing to me Sarah CM and Robert MC-G, now that I have that photo, a witness, and a world potential viewing audience on the world wide web, then you have got other thoughts a comin’ your way cakes. This is real, and you are all messing with me, and you’ll be sorry, IN COURT.

GOOGLE, SATELLITE WORLD INTERCONNECT SYSTEM, WORLD LABORATORIES, VOID INFINITY--------------------------------

This is all copyrighted intellectual property that is jointly co-owned with internet blogging sites, MARK MOHR/MICHAEL MOUNTAINPEN. I voluntarily swear these words are all totally true and accurate and honest to the very best of my human ability to be accurate, as all is just waves and particles. Still this is all total truth, with absolutely no omissions and no additions.
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