SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0277
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“REALITY-THREE FURTHER EXPLORED”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011 ©
DATE AND TIME FILE (DATFILE) CH-0277-120111.069
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
I TOLD YOU GINA, AND OTHERS, THAT WALL STREET BY DECEMBER WOULD BE UP MILLIONS OF POINTS. I MAY HAVE SLIGHTLY EXAGERATED, BUT I WAS MAKING THE POINT, THAT PARALLEL EVENT IS REAL AND AS BEING USED AGAINST ME BY MOTHER FUCKING SQUAT SUCKING SCUM BAGS, AND HAS BEEN SINCE THE 15TH DAY OF AUGUST IN 1986. THIS FUCKING WEEK, WALL STREET CROOKS HAVE MADE A THOUSAND MOTHER FUCKING POINTS, BY PERSECUTING ME SO HORRENDOUSLY SUNDAY AND MONDAY. I TOLD YOU BIG LOVELY GINA, U ARM BREAKER U, AND I WAS ON THE MONEY$$$$$$$$$$$. YOU ALL WILL SEE NOW, HUNDREDS OF GAINED POINTS EVERY SINGLE DAY, DAY AFTER DAY, WEEK AFTER WEEK, AND BY THE END OF JANUARY OF MYAN-12, IT WILL BE AROUND 20,000 BASIS POINTS, B-A-N-K----O-N----IT----YO!!!!!!!! BY APRIL, IT WILL BE UP MAROUND 40,000, AND BEFORE THE SECOND CALENDAR OF THE GREAT SHAH-WHITE OF THE VIQUEEN-JEWELLY-CLUB, IT WILL BE AROUND 100,000 MOTHER FUCKING CHEATED POINTS.
Somewhere in hyperspace, in this vast fifth dimension, this prophecy above will definitely occur. The odds that we who read or write these words in the STM of here and now, will be in a matching universe are not all that great. Still, it is all based on how much these bastards can ruin and destroy my life day by day, hour by hour, curls, girls and Superman movies all notwithstanding; that will obviously be the determining factor of just where this all plays out, in exact formula. Now here are a few super reality shocks, 'BING', Detective Studdereale, of L&O.
If I am so 100% correct, and after all, I did do what Einstein claimed could not be done, in 1986, and what many others would despise me for, but let us focus on roulette and not incest. Spring into action, John Mason of sunny hot FTLEFLUSAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It won't stay Christmas 1983 forever, old wallet Disdee misplacer, YO.
So what is reality-3, for those who read these words, yet refuse to scan back to summer time into autumn blogs of mine from the wonderful, YUK-YUK, year of 2008, Misses Marola?????????????????????????? Reality-3 is the 'WHY', in so far as my ability to consistently make money playing casino roulette that 'wonderful' year in '86, and is also the 'WHY' this thing called PARALLEL-EVENT or (PE) and thus ICPE or INTENTIONALLY CREATED PARALLEL EVENT, works as it does, does what it does, the explanation of the mechanics behind it, no differently than a schematic design shows how the electronics of a machine are put together, chip by chip, diode by diode. Can I or anyone else in this dinosaur time period of twenty-eleven, Misses Marola and other wonderful peeps from my 1969 past; really ever get all the answers so that they could waltz into a laboratory, and mother fucking design a schematic that would properly fully illustrate REALITY-3, and what it does that makes PE and thus ICPE, work? No way 'Josey girl', NO FUCKING WAY. Don't get paranoid on me Governor Terrorist, as I am not making fun of you. I am too pissed fucking off tonight to laugh at the sick jokes of the late MISTER David Charles freaking ass Roth, BRAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not sweet on the Moon-man of 1985 either, nor do I plan to put a hurting on anybody, not the way some might think aniwho, peeps, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If 'DCR' was here in waking life in my shared illusion in this fifth freaking dimensional hyperspace, he would chuckle and then remind me that the scum bag club of America, and maybe the Planet Earth, is simply out breeding us, to quote him word for freaking ass word, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Reality-3 is not a 2+2=4 deal, and it never will be, it cannot be rationally simplified, or reduced to some kind of a philosophical mathematical equivalent lowest common denominator, YO peeps. Put simply folks, some of PE makes total sense. Stay out in the sun too long and you get sunburn. Sock a cop, and you will be in jail. Shoot your foot with a large gun, and you will become crippled. Drive drunk and swerve around, and your license to drive will disappear faster than a bunny rabbit at a Las Vegas lounge magic act. These are like simple cause and effect things. However, CAF and PE are very different no matter how simple or complex they may become, as CAF works in one direction only, while PE works both ways. This makes a logical mind begin deducing that perhaps a third reality is acting on the other two events, but then, who can ever really know for sure, copyrighted voice echos from the past all totally and fully notwithmotherfuckingstanding, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is one thing to say, OK, I will walk into a bar, I am five feet tall and 112 pounds soaking wet, and I will flirt with all the wives of the huge drunk dudes in there, and then I can expect to lose teeth, and maybe consciousness. It is an entirely different mother fucking ballgame however my peeps, to say that after every red and even number that comes out at a roulette table today where I am standing and keeping track on paper with a stick figure chart; that the following next outcomes from these previous red and even numbers, are 5 low and 22 high. Still, this is the trending parallel event here, and once there is at least a 4:1 ratio, and to be really safe, a 5:1 ratio hardy ever loses; you then just stand there waiting for red and even numbers to pop out and bet with the trending next outcome remaining parameter of HIGH or 19-36 outside bet area on the roulette layout on the gaming table. There is a major thing that needs to be talked about here, Albert Einstein, old pal of my dad's, who says I could not have done what I did in 1986. First, it is hard to believe other things in 1986, it seems this was my year for seemingly impossible things to happen to me, still I do not deny reality, they mother fucking happened, so screw it. This next discussion is simply this folks. If WOMO enemies, can score 1000 points for a major siege, why then not make every single day beyond super ultra mega hell for me? Is there thus, some type of a copyrighted, or not copyrighted; (2004 Halloween Day) PERMISSION-BARRIER??????????????In other words, IS SOMETHING PROTECTING ME FROM ABSOLUTE HELL, as what does WALL STREET HAVE TO GAIN by not stepping this up to unfathomable monster ass levels of nightmare cruelty? Well, we can speculate several things that may be all potentially part of this permission barrier of a sorts, my book from 1994 aside, peeps. One is of course, fear of exposure. If I can ever prove what Wall Street has done to me for nearly twenty-five and a half fucking years now, I COULD SUE THEM ALL FOR 25 BILLION FUCKING US DOLLARS, AND I WOULD FUCKING WIN, AS I WEOULD BREAK A FUCKING JURY'S HEART, AND YOU and THEY ALL KNOW IT, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They also may simply not have the ability to do worse to me, or a combination of both of these things may be causing this limited amount of shit being perpetrated on me by this twisted fucking disease. On top of that, other things not thought of here, may also be a factor, or any combinations thereof of all of this. Still, is REALITY-3 real, or is it simply WALL STREET and WOMO, doing all of this, and that's that? Who can ever know. I did what Einstein said could not be done, and I do not have a clue, well,, maybe I have a tiny clue, but that is all I have, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No other blog on Planet Earth, has been diligently kept for 6+ years, with a story this outlandish and off the scales bizarre. Just this in and of itself, verifies the validity of all of this vomit swallowing death hell that I am being forced to endure.
Showing weakness to WOMO such as admitting what I said on my last blog never helps my empire, and always bolsters and edifies the EVIL EMPIRE, without fail, my 6+ year blogs, again, reiterate this resoundingly clear and quite absolutely unmissable, YO. They have both my kids brainwashed, and me in the toilet, and they know they have me by the balls, folks. I know it, and there is no use denying it for a single ass fucking second, friends and fiends. If I start telling or believing fish tales, I should quit right now, as I am only wasting time and energy, mine, and yours. Still, Donald, if my “Uncle” Heinz, denied your pop a loan 40 or 50 years ago, and you think that taking this out on me makes sense, well, that shows me why you are indeed, the ultimate asshole that I have known you to be since you and McGuire teamed up against me in 1984, YO. You two are sick evil Satanic fucking bastards. As long as I live and breathe, just try becoming the president, you dirt bag son of a bitch.
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555. I am being struck by lots of clock attacks from MISS BITCH JANE recently. 55555555555555555555555555555555555555555. Allow me to compensate please folks. 5555555555555555. I am seeing lights out of the eye corners big time for months now, just like 1980 back at the RPL recording fucking studio days. Things are very bad for me peeps, and they will not be improving any mother fucking time soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These Christians can keep their fucking god of theirs, all it ever does in my life is make things far fucking worse, EVERY MOTHER FUCKING TIME, someday I'll fucking learn my lesson, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fuck it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All the powerful shit told recently on blogs, and the market flies up near ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS. Oh yeah, right; like some huge mother fucking shit is not gonna' fucking strike. What am I, some fucking ass retard, YO?????????????????? DUH, I DON'T THINK SO, pretty Discovery-Zone employee!!!!!
END TRANNY, SICKO FUCKING SLIMY ASS GRANY, YO!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0276
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0276
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
DATFILE: 112911.743
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“PLEASE LET ME TEACH YOU WHO AND WHAT YOU FIGHT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This message is to the OCCUPY-MOVEMENT. The fittingly named when abbreviated, antimatter of the MO. The Milituforce Otammites, or the MO, is not an easy concept or entity collective, to try and comprehend, so don't feel bad folks, should you be reading my blogs and scratching your heads. I will not lie and say that I do not scratch mine. Just why this mighty K-FAM has decided to put all of this here, play this game with me, and hurt my soul so horrifyingly, is every bit the gargantuan and unfathomable question for me, as it is to any of my potential readers, hopefully MORIANS, but more realistically, Inbetweenians at best, and most probably, Lessians, or Anti-Morians, with or without Donna Jason Summer Forest, and his/her great brilliant strobing or not strobing, MORNING LIGHT, UNITED STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE. No folks, if I had the answers, or all of them, then indeed, I would not be just simply pounding out words and clicking on little black keys on a computer system, blogging out a message that in all odds, is gonna' get me mother fucking absolutely no place at all, because it all ready has been written, my life's script that is, and I am merely acting out the part of myself, and guess who totally was aware of this information that I just typed here, peeps? The same fine gentleman and great playwright who helped King James of England, work on and eventually complete in 1546, the Holy Bible, known as the KING JAMES VERSION, or (KJV). Why take my word for things, most of this is verifiable on Google, it has not yet all been sanitized out and away for my sake, it is coming, let me assure you, but we ain't quite there as of yet, my peeps.
All last week, Dear Occupy, my wonderful group; except for the 23rd, was nowhere this horrendous for me. I was not being continually tormented and tortured in a covert and ultra black dark secret hell of absolute vile viciousness, operated and controlled by the scum of the mother fucking Earth itself, or the bloody-shoe-maggots that this scum produces may say it even better. This is why the DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGES WENT DOWN CONSIDERABLY ON THAGT WEEK. Now this week, beginning with the weekend disaster of Sunday, concentrating on mainly a NEIGHBORHOOD SIEGE, and lots of other fucking bullshit hell that they perpetrated upon me covertly and totally illegally, but then try making a fucking citizens arrest on a police officer sometime folks, if you think my words wanna' make you chuckle so fucking much, YO; but yes folks, starting with the wrecking of my sleep on Sunday with one fire alarm after another going off in my apartment building at the Fort Pierce Housing Authority of Florida, USAESMWG; there has been sky siege, health destruct siege, neighbor siege with the booming of music-man and his monster stereo next door, and the wild series of loud door slamming, both this morning before I left for work, this is why Monday, the markets illegally through covert tactics called ICPE, FLEW almost half a thousand points up, and again today, another third of a hundred, to make it a back to back huge win for evil manipulated controlled WALL STREET, IN MANHATTAN. I have said it over and over, and will reiterate this even again now on this very blog. I do not personally care, as why would I, if that stinking market was at 100, 1000, 10000, or a hundred thousand basis points. I do not own stock, and except for the many evils behind this monster called WALL STREET, this would mean nothing to me whatsoever. It literally would have zero value in my life. But when THESE PRICK DIRT BAG LEGAL CRIMINALS a million times more bad and dangerous than all the combined mafia systems on the planet; use a secret technique called PARALLEL-EVENT, and hurt and even wipe out and totally destroy innocent lives, because they know through a statistic, that when certain peeps are up, they are down, and vice versa, this creates a monster hell so indescribable, as nobody will believe me and they just want to take an already victimized pathetic bastard, and lock him up in a fucking looney cage and treat him like fucking shit cubed. My blogs are LEGAL FUCKING PROOF SHOWING LONG TIME PATTERN, yet still, the authorities continue refusing to take any of this seriously, and try and assist me as the victim of the worst crime since the Hitler Germany Death-camp situation of the nineteen-forties. If you think this is even a small exaggeration, you need to read the past six plus years of my blogs on the site of www.blogger.com/ and remember that is August of 2009, I was hacked and you need to access the 'wordpress' blog site for this, but this site does not go back that far, so only for this one month of time or so, www.wordpress.com/. Then my entire OM needs to watch some incredible video, that if they are not all ready pissed off at the system enough, this will really add some gasoline to the bond-fire, as well it should, as truth should not ever be stifled, what is this, the mother fucking middle ages for CHRISSAKE??????????????????????
First GOOGLE up CHEMTRAILS on the YOU-TUBE site, and then just on the GOOGLE system itself. Then enter these web addresses, and really start to see what you all are fighting for, and get MICHAEL MOORE to be the official president of the movement, my advice, Mike, is to incorporate this thing, ironic as it may sound. It takes fire to fight fire, bullets are not the answer, and just sitting and protesting never did all that much in the nineteen-sixties either. They only changed things because it was time for things to change. This is a very long story of QUANTUM PHYSICS, not intended for this particular blog. Here are those web addresses, WATCH THESE FREAKING ASS VIDEOS, my wonderful OM-group, as you will be so glad that you did, YO.
Http://www.sonyclassics.com/whywefight/
http://www.michaelmoore.com/books-films/facts/
For those in the future, tracking back on the Lunar Satellite System, go to any time in 2007, and type in www.morianity-foundation.com/ and then try 2012 around the summer time, the same address only before the dot com, type in number '2'.
Fror those in the great Moore/Mohr group of Antimatter-MO, do not try and convince my oldest daughter to0 get involved. She thinks we are all mad, and lives in her own world. Even after showing her how the 1987 sky action effected her, and gave her proof; she wanted to join the Lieutenant Sakavich Police Club, of Voorhees Township. Remember folks, we all must march to the drum we were meant to march to, and that is that, Mister Esolph.
I obeyed two huge things so far SSJK, in your true form. First there was BB, then there was the saying of the magic words. It wither had no effect on your HSTN or else you as her, on a transdimensional level; are one heck of a great actress. Oh well, like in one world, so in another one. If this is just another one of your teen games, maybe I should be let in someday, on just what the objective to it all is. I liked my life as KD a lot more. Not because I had a nice life in-between all the enemy attacks, but because you did not let me know or remember, you and me in SDK. This would have ruined my spirit and nothing would have been accomplished. Seems you know what you are doing all along after all, sorry I ever doubted my TQ.
I will stay here for another 30 days, then I am out of this evil empire forever. If you want me to stay and play this game with you, you will have to find a better way of letting me know, just as you showed me on VQ Island, all about views-4-sale on your mighty music site.
Time now for din-din my peeps. I need to eat, relax, and crash, or I will end up shooting up a mall or a Mickey-Dee. I am totally fucking screwed up after 57 years of this inconceivable nightmare hell, and MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, if you do not scan, and wipe out those hurting me, I WILL END ALL LIFE ON THIS PLANET WITHIN ONE YEAR VIA GIANT METEORS. A lot of them are very nearby, and peeps in the know are keeping their mother fucking mouths shut about it. Only I can bring them in, or deflect them away, with knowledge of operating in the quantum worlds. Thank you for being such a fantastic guru and teacher, Mister Roddenberry. I will be talking to you later on tonight once I am, by mortal terminology, asleep in bed, see you soon old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TWANSMISSION ELMER WABBIT FWUDD, WHAAAAAAAAAA!
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
DATFILE: 112911.743
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“PLEASE LET ME TEACH YOU WHO AND WHAT YOU FIGHT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
This message is to the OCCUPY-MOVEMENT. The fittingly named when abbreviated, antimatter of the MO. The Milituforce Otammites, or the MO, is not an easy concept or entity collective, to try and comprehend, so don't feel bad folks, should you be reading my blogs and scratching your heads. I will not lie and say that I do not scratch mine. Just why this mighty K-FAM has decided to put all of this here, play this game with me, and hurt my soul so horrifyingly, is every bit the gargantuan and unfathomable question for me, as it is to any of my potential readers, hopefully MORIANS, but more realistically, Inbetweenians at best, and most probably, Lessians, or Anti-Morians, with or without Donna Jason Summer Forest, and his/her great brilliant strobing or not strobing, MORNING LIGHT, UNITED STATES COPYRIGHT OFFICE. No folks, if I had the answers, or all of them, then indeed, I would not be just simply pounding out words and clicking on little black keys on a computer system, blogging out a message that in all odds, is gonna' get me mother fucking absolutely no place at all, because it all ready has been written, my life's script that is, and I am merely acting out the part of myself, and guess who totally was aware of this information that I just typed here, peeps? The same fine gentleman and great playwright who helped King James of England, work on and eventually complete in 1546, the Holy Bible, known as the KING JAMES VERSION, or (KJV). Why take my word for things, most of this is verifiable on Google, it has not yet all been sanitized out and away for my sake, it is coming, let me assure you, but we ain't quite there as of yet, my peeps.
All last week, Dear Occupy, my wonderful group; except for the 23rd, was nowhere this horrendous for me. I was not being continually tormented and tortured in a covert and ultra black dark secret hell of absolute vile viciousness, operated and controlled by the scum of the mother fucking Earth itself, or the bloody-shoe-maggots that this scum produces may say it even better. This is why the DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGES WENT DOWN CONSIDERABLY ON THAGT WEEK. Now this week, beginning with the weekend disaster of Sunday, concentrating on mainly a NEIGHBORHOOD SIEGE, and lots of other fucking bullshit hell that they perpetrated upon me covertly and totally illegally, but then try making a fucking citizens arrest on a police officer sometime folks, if you think my words wanna' make you chuckle so fucking much, YO; but yes folks, starting with the wrecking of my sleep on Sunday with one fire alarm after another going off in my apartment building at the Fort Pierce Housing Authority of Florida, USAESMWG; there has been sky siege, health destruct siege, neighbor siege with the booming of music-man and his monster stereo next door, and the wild series of loud door slamming, both this morning before I left for work, this is why Monday, the markets illegally through covert tactics called ICPE, FLEW almost half a thousand points up, and again today, another third of a hundred, to make it a back to back huge win for evil manipulated controlled WALL STREET, IN MANHATTAN. I have said it over and over, and will reiterate this even again now on this very blog. I do not personally care, as why would I, if that stinking market was at 100, 1000, 10000, or a hundred thousand basis points. I do not own stock, and except for the many evils behind this monster called WALL STREET, this would mean nothing to me whatsoever. It literally would have zero value in my life. But when THESE PRICK DIRT BAG LEGAL CRIMINALS a million times more bad and dangerous than all the combined mafia systems on the planet; use a secret technique called PARALLEL-EVENT, and hurt and even wipe out and totally destroy innocent lives, because they know through a statistic, that when certain peeps are up, they are down, and vice versa, this creates a monster hell so indescribable, as nobody will believe me and they just want to take an already victimized pathetic bastard, and lock him up in a fucking looney cage and treat him like fucking shit cubed. My blogs are LEGAL FUCKING PROOF SHOWING LONG TIME PATTERN, yet still, the authorities continue refusing to take any of this seriously, and try and assist me as the victim of the worst crime since the Hitler Germany Death-camp situation of the nineteen-forties. If you think this is even a small exaggeration, you need to read the past six plus years of my blogs on the site of www.blogger.com/ and remember that is August of 2009, I was hacked and you need to access the 'wordpress' blog site for this, but this site does not go back that far, so only for this one month of time or so, www.wordpress.com/. Then my entire OM needs to watch some incredible video, that if they are not all ready pissed off at the system enough, this will really add some gasoline to the bond-fire, as well it should, as truth should not ever be stifled, what is this, the mother fucking middle ages for CHRISSAKE??????????????????????
First GOOGLE up CHEMTRAILS on the YOU-TUBE site, and then just on the GOOGLE system itself. Then enter these web addresses, and really start to see what you all are fighting for, and get MICHAEL MOORE to be the official president of the movement, my advice, Mike, is to incorporate this thing, ironic as it may sound. It takes fire to fight fire, bullets are not the answer, and just sitting and protesting never did all that much in the nineteen-sixties either. They only changed things because it was time for things to change. This is a very long story of QUANTUM PHYSICS, not intended for this particular blog. Here are those web addresses, WATCH THESE FREAKING ASS VIDEOS, my wonderful OM-group, as you will be so glad that you did, YO.
Http://www.sonyclassics.com/whywefight/
http://www.michaelmoore.com/books-films/facts/
For those in the future, tracking back on the Lunar Satellite System, go to any time in 2007, and type in www.morianity-foundation.com/ and then try 2012 around the summer time, the same address only before the dot com, type in number '2'.
Fror those in the great Moore/Mohr group of Antimatter-MO, do not try and convince my oldest daughter to0 get involved. She thinks we are all mad, and lives in her own world. Even after showing her how the 1987 sky action effected her, and gave her proof; she wanted to join the Lieutenant Sakavich Police Club, of Voorhees Township. Remember folks, we all must march to the drum we were meant to march to, and that is that, Mister Esolph.
I obeyed two huge things so far SSJK, in your true form. First there was BB, then there was the saying of the magic words. It wither had no effect on your HSTN or else you as her, on a transdimensional level; are one heck of a great actress. Oh well, like in one world, so in another one. If this is just another one of your teen games, maybe I should be let in someday, on just what the objective to it all is. I liked my life as KD a lot more. Not because I had a nice life in-between all the enemy attacks, but because you did not let me know or remember, you and me in SDK. This would have ruined my spirit and nothing would have been accomplished. Seems you know what you are doing all along after all, sorry I ever doubted my TQ.
I will stay here for another 30 days, then I am out of this evil empire forever. If you want me to stay and play this game with you, you will have to find a better way of letting me know, just as you showed me on VQ Island, all about views-4-sale on your mighty music site.
Time now for din-din my peeps. I need to eat, relax, and crash, or I will end up shooting up a mall or a Mickey-Dee. I am totally fucking screwed up after 57 years of this inconceivable nightmare hell, and MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, if you do not scan, and wipe out those hurting me, I WILL END ALL LIFE ON THIS PLANET WITHIN ONE YEAR VIA GIANT METEORS. A lot of them are very nearby, and peeps in the know are keeping their mother fucking mouths shut about it. Only I can bring them in, or deflect them away, with knowledge of operating in the quantum worlds. Thank you for being such a fantastic guru and teacher, Mister Roddenberry. I will be talking to you later on tonight once I am, by mortal terminology, asleep in bed, see you soon old pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END TWANSMISSION ELMER WABBIT FWUDD, WHAAAAAAAAAA!
Monday, November 28, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0275
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0275
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
DATFILE: 112811.880.5555555555
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“MY FINAL DYING UTTERANCE AND OFFICIAL LEGAL STATEMENT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011
MARK WAYNE MOHR OF FORMERLY HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY,
AND NOW OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Things are so bad that they have never ever never ever never ever, my lovely Lightning Goddess Diana, been this bad, in my entire 64 trillion year cycle of hyperspace existence. This is it right here, all the way to the mother fucking wall,Captain Jordy Trek.
Another fire alarm struck the building around just after six of the clock this moUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, following the one that struck earlier around quarter past two. This caused me to lose sleep, not wake up to the alarm clock as I needed to put ear plugs in just to survive; and as a result, made me mother fucking late for work by ninety minutes. I told the boss, Mary, and she is verifying this with the local fire Department that responds to these alarms, as well as with the Housing Authority of the great and illustrious non (SPR) Studio Park Records, FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, YO!!!!!!!!
On top of this death siege, an all day aerial assault hit with loud low private Cessna fucking jobs, death beams struck my body, producing major health attacks, both heart and bowel fuck ups, that has been ongoing since 1986, and totally mother fucking undetectable by today's best medical professionals. Also, if something this serious was wrong with my body over a quarter century of physical time, it would have killed me and wiped me out a very fucking long fucking time ago, this is just a dose of good old mother fucking common sense, no matter who wishes and insists on calling me a delusional ranter nut case, and refuses to take this all seriously. I KNOW WHAT I KNOW, and as good old, late Mrs. Dawn-Marie King Laines would say it perhaps a tad better than this, “IT IS WHAT IT IS”. Anyone connected with the great evil “MILLIONTH-COUNCIL (WOMO)”, that has been obviously bugging my body with a T. McVeigh Microchip, and that was listening in during my Stockholm Kidnapping period; knows all of this only too well, peeps.
I am going to tell once more, that things progressed real bad through Sunday and today-Monday, but the real hammering began, with or without the teenaged dinger who turned my Saturn hubcap into Swiss Cheese in 1996 outside “The Gathering Place Psychic Shop”, in early June, right after my trips to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, with Mister David Charles Roth; after being in a light and self induced trance where I bi-located my awareness, in both my bed in my apartment here in town, and on this material realm;, yet simultaneously, was with the great All Mighty Sarah-Stacey Krassle. I was placed back in the powerful dreaming-interaction of June the 21st of 2008, that is blogged about on that date on the blog website of www.blogger.com/, for those not reading these words right now on that site; and MC was telling me huge powerful stuff, that I gave my word to HER, that I will never betray HER and ever blog and tell. However, there are many things that I can tell, that will not be in violation of breaking this special covenant, (contract), for the post Aramaic Lingo days of Ad-2011. The PCN-GAWNUM answer the other time of great siege, before this new one, was the number of 781. This PCN-781 contains thousands of powerful listing matches, some to name a few are 'BABYLON', 'GOD'S DOG', 'JULY TWELVE, NINETEEN-SEVENTY', and 'PROPHET OF NOTHING'. Using the word “account” in place of “channel”, pertaining to U-tube, powerful forces know two powerful PCN's, one being 781, the other being 880, 'hypothetically' speaking, 'mom'. The question I was thinking and pondering on back on the 23rd of this month was why had suffered this unfathomably incredible nightmare siege from the evil wicked fucking WOMO on that day, and the cards came out root-GAWNUM #78. By the way, you reshuffle all cards and continue dwelling on your question, but do not hold back the card originally drawn from the deck that produced your first digit root answer. Both times, the odds need to be exactly one to nine that you will select by 'random' an ace through a nine. If you stumbled onto this blog here and now, you will need to go back half a dozen or so blogs and read up ion using the GAWNUM. Many other listings come out such as balloon and buzzard, and on and on we could go here, but for now, this is more than enough to get cosmic juices flowing and let the Jessica Football Players club know I am not playing around with my counterstrike retaliatory talking and tattle tailing, YO. To know what I'm referring to here, you would need to go years back before the first blog chapter of this SAFE JOURNAL series of MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS, all on www.blogger.com/ site, of course, YO!!!!!!!!
Where is my lovely CASS from transdimensional hyperspace? I have a debt that I am not sure I can ever repay, but want to spend the rest of my life trying. You did all this for me, reminds me of years ago near a great sea. I knew there was a reason I wore the grooves on that oldie 45 RPM record out as a pre-teen, at 125-A Haddon Hills, in Westmont, NJUSAESMWG. HA-HA. Now after late April, the only early-alpha systems unused by quanta waves are BABA and FAFA. The E is a vowel that would not pronounce next to the A vowel. Still, I watch and see all that goes on, I miss little, very little gets past me, folks. This does not count being major hypnotized by school principals that suddenly take an active roll in the movie, “Body Snatchers”. I promise that I never will reveal this incredible secret, BEG. By sharing it with me, I know you trust me, and I will never betray that trust, no matter what PK does to me, or her cronies.
When I asked Gawky Gaukauk to reveal why everyone around me was so vehemently against my hypnosis in the nineteen-nineties to remember why 1986 changed my life so incredibly; the number of 132 came out. Now MOTORCYCLE may not seem to relevant, but smart folks have already done a long list, and know why this number was told to me.
Then there is the old Freudian unconscious slip of the lip, and the unconscious reason for doing and saying and naming things, even our children, give me a break, my lovely Paula.
I could blog on and on, millions of things, and waste my precious time; but I'd rather watch a movie and enjoy a nice bowl of Breyers freaking ice cream. I have no more time to give to these fucking losers. Life is irony. That is all it can ever be. This is why we DRIVE on the parkway, and we PARK on the driveway. It is why most TURNpikes are for the most part straight line directions. The truth is that none of this real, and that QUANTA reality has chosen to make my life what it is. As I said in my last few blogs somewhere, we can all eat dogshit and add lots of sugar to make it taste better. It will taste better, but why do this? Locked up in this question, is a lot of ground that I'll be covering soon, and yes, heads will roll, big time, as a result, YO. ****END TRANSMISSION****
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2295
DATFILE: 112811.880.5555555555
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“MY FINAL DYING UTTERANCE AND OFFICIAL LEGAL STATEMENT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN 2006-2011
MARK WAYNE MOHR OF FORMERLY HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY,
AND NOW OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
Things are so bad that they have never ever never ever never ever, my lovely Lightning Goddess Diana, been this bad, in my entire 64 trillion year cycle of hyperspace existence. This is it right here, all the way to the mother fucking wall,Captain Jordy Trek.
Another fire alarm struck the building around just after six of the clock this moUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, following the one that struck earlier around quarter past two. This caused me to lose sleep, not wake up to the alarm clock as I needed to put ear plugs in just to survive; and as a result, made me mother fucking late for work by ninety minutes. I told the boss, Mary, and she is verifying this with the local fire Department that responds to these alarms, as well as with the Housing Authority of the great and illustrious non (SPR) Studio Park Records, FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, YO!!!!!!!!
On top of this death siege, an all day aerial assault hit with loud low private Cessna fucking jobs, death beams struck my body, producing major health attacks, both heart and bowel fuck ups, that has been ongoing since 1986, and totally mother fucking undetectable by today's best medical professionals. Also, if something this serious was wrong with my body over a quarter century of physical time, it would have killed me and wiped me out a very fucking long fucking time ago, this is just a dose of good old mother fucking common sense, no matter who wishes and insists on calling me a delusional ranter nut case, and refuses to take this all seriously. I KNOW WHAT I KNOW, and as good old, late Mrs. Dawn-Marie King Laines would say it perhaps a tad better than this, “IT IS WHAT IT IS”. Anyone connected with the great evil “MILLIONTH-COUNCIL (WOMO)”, that has been obviously bugging my body with a T. McVeigh Microchip, and that was listening in during my Stockholm Kidnapping period; knows all of this only too well, peeps.
I am going to tell once more, that things progressed real bad through Sunday and today-Monday, but the real hammering began, with or without the teenaged dinger who turned my Saturn hubcap into Swiss Cheese in 1996 outside “The Gathering Place Psychic Shop”, in early June, right after my trips to Carlisle, Pennsylvania, with Mister David Charles Roth; after being in a light and self induced trance where I bi-located my awareness, in both my bed in my apartment here in town, and on this material realm;, yet simultaneously, was with the great All Mighty Sarah-Stacey Krassle. I was placed back in the powerful dreaming-interaction of June the 21st of 2008, that is blogged about on that date on the blog website of www.blogger.com/, for those not reading these words right now on that site; and MC was telling me huge powerful stuff, that I gave my word to HER, that I will never betray HER and ever blog and tell. However, there are many things that I can tell, that will not be in violation of breaking this special covenant, (contract), for the post Aramaic Lingo days of Ad-2011. The PCN-GAWNUM answer the other time of great siege, before this new one, was the number of 781. This PCN-781 contains thousands of powerful listing matches, some to name a few are 'BABYLON', 'GOD'S DOG', 'JULY TWELVE, NINETEEN-SEVENTY', and 'PROPHET OF NOTHING'. Using the word “account” in place of “channel”, pertaining to U-tube, powerful forces know two powerful PCN's, one being 781, the other being 880, 'hypothetically' speaking, 'mom'. The question I was thinking and pondering on back on the 23rd of this month was why had suffered this unfathomably incredible nightmare siege from the evil wicked fucking WOMO on that day, and the cards came out root-GAWNUM #78. By the way, you reshuffle all cards and continue dwelling on your question, but do not hold back the card originally drawn from the deck that produced your first digit root answer. Both times, the odds need to be exactly one to nine that you will select by 'random' an ace through a nine. If you stumbled onto this blog here and now, you will need to go back half a dozen or so blogs and read up ion using the GAWNUM. Many other listings come out such as balloon and buzzard, and on and on we could go here, but for now, this is more than enough to get cosmic juices flowing and let the Jessica Football Players club know I am not playing around with my counterstrike retaliatory talking and tattle tailing, YO. To know what I'm referring to here, you would need to go years back before the first blog chapter of this SAFE JOURNAL series of MOUNTAINPEN BLOGS, all on www.blogger.com/ site, of course, YO!!!!!!!!
Where is my lovely CASS from transdimensional hyperspace? I have a debt that I am not sure I can ever repay, but want to spend the rest of my life trying. You did all this for me, reminds me of years ago near a great sea. I knew there was a reason I wore the grooves on that oldie 45 RPM record out as a pre-teen, at 125-A Haddon Hills, in Westmont, NJUSAESMWG. HA-HA. Now after late April, the only early-alpha systems unused by quanta waves are BABA and FAFA. The E is a vowel that would not pronounce next to the A vowel. Still, I watch and see all that goes on, I miss little, very little gets past me, folks. This does not count being major hypnotized by school principals that suddenly take an active roll in the movie, “Body Snatchers”. I promise that I never will reveal this incredible secret, BEG. By sharing it with me, I know you trust me, and I will never betray that trust, no matter what PK does to me, or her cronies.
When I asked Gawky Gaukauk to reveal why everyone around me was so vehemently against my hypnosis in the nineteen-nineties to remember why 1986 changed my life so incredibly; the number of 132 came out. Now MOTORCYCLE may not seem to relevant, but smart folks have already done a long list, and know why this number was told to me.
Then there is the old Freudian unconscious slip of the lip, and the unconscious reason for doing and saying and naming things, even our children, give me a break, my lovely Paula.
I could blog on and on, millions of things, and waste my precious time; but I'd rather watch a movie and enjoy a nice bowl of Breyers freaking ice cream. I have no more time to give to these fucking losers. Life is irony. That is all it can ever be. This is why we DRIVE on the parkway, and we PARK on the driveway. It is why most TURNpikes are for the most part straight line directions. The truth is that none of this real, and that QUANTA reality has chosen to make my life what it is. As I said in my last few blogs somewhere, we can all eat dogshit and add lots of sugar to make it taste better. It will taste better, but why do this? Locked up in this question, is a lot of ground that I'll be covering soon, and yes, heads will roll, big time, as a result, YO. ****END TRANSMISSION****
Sunday, November 27, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0274
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0274
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
Blog Starting:
I AM UNDER HEAVY ATTACK, WORLD MARKETS ARE INVOLVED, AND SO IS ICPE AND ALL THE THINGS I HAVE TOLD BEFORE ON SO MANY LONG WINDED PRIOR BLOGS REGARDING THE ILLEGAL AND TOTALLY IMMORAL MISUSE OF A STATISTICAL TECHNOLOGY CALLED, PARALLEL-EVENT.
It started again a few minutes ago at approximately a quarter past two of the clock this Monday moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, Donna Lightsummer, with a deafening fire alarm going off in my mother fucking apartment. It is so unfair, why should this piercing ear shattering alarm have to go mother fucking off in everybody's mother fucking apartment, just because it it set of in one of them? It makes about as much sense as eating dogshit and adding sugar to make it taste a little bit better. It will you know, but still, it would be horrendous and beyond a nightmare. Perhaps this will be a small window for all of you reading my words, into the fucking miseries of the life of eternal Mountainpen, under this horrific HUNTINGTON CURSE.
NOW, WHO IS UP AT 2:15, BURNING FOOD, CAUSING THIS? I MEAN REALLY FOLKS, TELL ME HOW FUCKING NUTS AND CRAZY YOU REALLY BELIEVE ME TO BE, AND THAT IS JUST WITH THIS INFORMATION, BUT HERE IS THE REST OF THE MOTHER FUCKING STORY, YO PEEPS!!!!!!!!
I was in a self induced light trance, speaking to the great All Mighty Goddess of this world and cosmos, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE. She had just told me something so major, it cannot be blogged, all though I am burning to tell it. MC, you know what huge secret I am holding back, and I am doing it for your sake, as you are my special one and you always will be. This is the only reason I am keeping my mouth shut. However, I am requesting that you personally, humanly watch over me this week, things are about to get very bad for me. I am not asking you in the attitude of one back scratching the other, as that would be in poor faith and bad taste, I am instead asking you as the one who you took with you, 65 days into the future, back in 2008, and to a place known as 65 Middle Road. You even knew the Dow Jones would drop to the 65 hundreds. As I speak now at 2:34 AM-EST, the Fort Pierce Fire Company has disengaged this deafening punishing alarm. When I leave the city, if my hearing is damaged, I do plan to sue, as my life is music, creating it for my own pleasure, or working in the industry. I can pull 18 months of official tax payer IRS documentation, from my 1979-1981 days at RPL Studios for court, if necessary. It just does not have to be this loud, it should come with an adjustable button, going from 5 DB higher all the way down to 25 DB lower, and then individuals can set safety limits in their own apartments, based on their level of normal, near normal, or rotten hearing. As for the 65/65/65, I was in trance, and SSJK had taken me back to the first day of 2008n summer interaction, and made me see and this time fully remember something, she knows, as it has to do with the secret of her innermost personality as her human world self. I will keep your secret whether you choose to help me or not. I am not a prick, like just about all of the peeps you have known throughout your life. I am always by your side, and will not let your 'friend' down, you know what I am talking about, this sick would does not need to know anymore. IWALU-BEG. Bye-Bye, or really, CU soon again, if I can get back into my trance without the next persecution, maybe the building will be bombed by aliens, HA-HA-BLUEBOOK. It is now 2:40 AM-EST, and I have decided to end and post up now.
Blog Ending:
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
Blog Starting:
I AM UNDER HEAVY ATTACK, WORLD MARKETS ARE INVOLVED, AND SO IS ICPE AND ALL THE THINGS I HAVE TOLD BEFORE ON SO MANY LONG WINDED PRIOR BLOGS REGARDING THE ILLEGAL AND TOTALLY IMMORAL MISUSE OF A STATISTICAL TECHNOLOGY CALLED, PARALLEL-EVENT.
It started again a few minutes ago at approximately a quarter past two of the clock this Monday moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning, Donna Lightsummer, with a deafening fire alarm going off in my mother fucking apartment. It is so unfair, why should this piercing ear shattering alarm have to go mother fucking off in everybody's mother fucking apartment, just because it it set of in one of them? It makes about as much sense as eating dogshit and adding sugar to make it taste a little bit better. It will you know, but still, it would be horrendous and beyond a nightmare. Perhaps this will be a small window for all of you reading my words, into the fucking miseries of the life of eternal Mountainpen, under this horrific HUNTINGTON CURSE.
NOW, WHO IS UP AT 2:15, BURNING FOOD, CAUSING THIS? I MEAN REALLY FOLKS, TELL ME HOW FUCKING NUTS AND CRAZY YOU REALLY BELIEVE ME TO BE, AND THAT IS JUST WITH THIS INFORMATION, BUT HERE IS THE REST OF THE MOTHER FUCKING STORY, YO PEEPS!!!!!!!!
I was in a self induced light trance, speaking to the great All Mighty Goddess of this world and cosmos, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE. She had just told me something so major, it cannot be blogged, all though I am burning to tell it. MC, you know what huge secret I am holding back, and I am doing it for your sake, as you are my special one and you always will be. This is the only reason I am keeping my mouth shut. However, I am requesting that you personally, humanly watch over me this week, things are about to get very bad for me. I am not asking you in the attitude of one back scratching the other, as that would be in poor faith and bad taste, I am instead asking you as the one who you took with you, 65 days into the future, back in 2008, and to a place known as 65 Middle Road. You even knew the Dow Jones would drop to the 65 hundreds. As I speak now at 2:34 AM-EST, the Fort Pierce Fire Company has disengaged this deafening punishing alarm. When I leave the city, if my hearing is damaged, I do plan to sue, as my life is music, creating it for my own pleasure, or working in the industry. I can pull 18 months of official tax payer IRS documentation, from my 1979-1981 days at RPL Studios for court, if necessary. It just does not have to be this loud, it should come with an adjustable button, going from 5 DB higher all the way down to 25 DB lower, and then individuals can set safety limits in their own apartments, based on their level of normal, near normal, or rotten hearing. As for the 65/65/65, I was in trance, and SSJK had taken me back to the first day of 2008n summer interaction, and made me see and this time fully remember something, she knows, as it has to do with the secret of her innermost personality as her human world self. I will keep your secret whether you choose to help me or not. I am not a prick, like just about all of the peeps you have known throughout your life. I am always by your side, and will not let your 'friend' down, you know what I am talking about, this sick would does not need to know anymore. IWALU-BEG. Bye-Bye, or really, CU soon again, if I can get back into my trance without the next persecution, maybe the building will be bombed by aliens, HA-HA-BLUEBOOK. It is now 2:40 AM-EST, and I have decided to end and post up now.
Blog Ending:
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0273
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0273
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“ANOTHER SUNDAY OF SKY SIEGE-WEIN-SOSO-SSDD”
WORLD LABS OF 2295, DATFILE: CH-0272-112711.714
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
There are no perfect or even good weekends for me with my WOMO-ENEMY problems since the early middle nineteen-eighties, however, this one went better than I'd expected, all be it the holiday weekend with Thanks-2-Givens, and King Building Kite Flying dog Roofs, all notwithstanding.
It all began last night, late, or maybe early this morning, on east coast time; when I got around to checking out my voice-mail messages on my AT&T telephone, as I have both Comcast and AT&T phone service, as I like the AT&T better; and it actually, it would cost me more, to not include the Comcast Phone Package, with my internet and television service with them. Aniwho peeps, YO, I got a message about trouble with my medications, after leaving careful instructions with the pharmacy after what happened before with them and my insurance and my name vanishing and hacked off of the system; only this time I was sure that I was not refilling my prescriptions through the pharmacy system. In other words, you must, or I must, to be more accurate and specific here; ask the first pharmacy that you reach, to put you through to the actual local pharmacy of your local store, otherwise, it is potentially vulnerable to hack attacks from the great Millionth-Council-Lattisaw gang of the Bermuda WOMO Triangle system of the Astral Plane counterpart regions. I am still saying YOU in place of ME, Sarah-Stacey Krassle and I seem to have this numerous identity crisis, whether or not we choose consciously, to ever reveal or admit to this, to the waking world. Anyway, today, I cleared things up today, it was too complicated and personal, to get more specific about, on a public blogging system. LSS, I got my medications, but while over at the pharmacy, and seconds after I walked through the door, a strange MUZAK coincidence or ATTACK, struck me. I was in my bath tub less than an hour before this time, and was talking aloud to myself and mentioned the old Neilson song, “Can't Live”, and changing it and singing it in the shower, making it instead of “Can't live if living is without you”, into “if living is without meds”. This is no where near the first time that things have happened that prove to me that either the odds of millions to one against coincidence is what is going on, or else, I must be being monitored and illegally listened to in my residence dwelling. The song came pouring out over the pharmacy MUZAK or Public Address (PA) system.
Later at my second errand, loud and low private aerial assaults began, and as I type, I can hear small private Cessna jobs flying in the air still, it stopped as I typed this, so I am being monitored keystroke by keystroke, right Mister Dick L&O Wolf. My first errand was picking up the meds, and then it was over to Regis Philbin's TD Bank local branch on US-Route 1, to get balances on my accounts. My next or third and final errand, was to the Dollar Store, the Dollar Tree, several blocks back towards home at the 601 Building, MISTER WILLIAM LEONARD MCKINNON, SIR, OH GREAT FUTURE-MOVER-RASTAFARIAN TELEPHONE TAPER.
When I was at the store purchasing a few items totaling around seventeen dollars, many planes were around,. And along with them, come the strange numerous spurious ground incidents. This is why since forever now practically, I have come to recognize the fact and the truth that this is all totally connected, just as the US and other global military systems, find it a normal practice, since aerodynamic principles were discovered that permitted humankind the right to flight; to use a combined cohesive merging of both ground and air assaults on their enemies. A snotty tiny child knows this, whether the grown ups around them do or not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Speaking of this particular scientific knowledge, that was destined to eventually become acquired by humankind, in the last one percent or so, of their recorded history on the Planet Earth; there was a very wild dude who I met at a health club swimming pool in the middle of 1995 somewhere. A few peeps called him 'RC', so I did as well. One day, about a year after the time we first talked, he asked me if I was able to go the bottom of the ten foot pool where we both were hanging along the wall of this pool, and lay flat on my back for a few seconds. Just what his game was, only became partially known to me a few days before the club mysteriously closed down overnight with no notice at all, and no refunds on membership dues ever offered. This club, at least as of the time I left New Jersey to come down to live here in sunny Florida; closed and literally grew vines around its property, like out of a James Patterson novel, killed or not killed, sunglasses or no sunglasses, Atlantic City Beach Patrol!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was straight out of the plot on the sixties hit daytime soap-drama on television, called, “Dark Shadows”. The real fans remember the 1995 time trip, Gerard Stiles, and the left-to-rot COLLINWOOD Estate, a total duplicate of HADDONWOOD Swim and Health Club, 1970-1995. Anyone who can believe in this coincidence, I would love to try and introduce to the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and the 7 Dwarfs and their pretty pal Geraldine Snow White, am I correct here, oh wonderful mighty Shah of Iran and President of MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY, of 1967????????????????????????????????? The few conspiracy theorists out here, know precisely just what I am talking about; whether they give credence to my personal incredible nightmare tale, or not. But here is where, as 'they' say, 'the plot thickens', my peeps. Number one, there is a powerful wordage parallel here, in Collinwood and Haddonwood. The great Disco-Diva Donna, can be one of the first to see and point out the WOOD part, as in the WOODS TEST PRESSING, and ATLANTIC RECORDS of Ancora, New Jersey, where her great unknown HAIR album was somehow involved with and in collusion with my place of employment as well, the Recorded Publications, in Camden, New Jersey, known as the abbreviated, RPL STUDIOS by the entire music industry, especially of the more distant past times. The LAW AND ORDER show, depicts a man, a very tall basketball player, and murderer, giving him the fictional name Cyrus N-WOOD, as in the way both of these institutions or estates end in their final five letters-NWOOD. In this particular episode on this great show, the Philadelphia 76'ers B-Ball team was called, the Cannons. Cyrus of course played for them but often played in the great city of NYC where this show is home based, and instead of calling them by their true name, the NEW YORK NICKS, this was changed for the show. If this alone does not tie into my powerful road-trip-interaction with the trip up to Boston, to the hotel with the strange heater-clock, and my learning how the Philadelphia Phillies would become the 2008 World Series Champions, then I fail to know how to ever prove that major stuff is happening all around my life, and has been since PEE SENIOR wanted me to give her a magical H-DAUT. There is much more to compare in these two names, vowel changes that become IO, or TEN, as in WE WERE BUT TEN, AND NOW WE'RE OLD, from the SARAH SONG, written by me on the 12th of May in 1996, the double consonants, D and L that will all be saved for a future discussion. Now let me tell about what I was told by the girl lifeguard who always hated me so much, she was a dike, and hated all men, and was rude and vulgar. She and a dude who worked at a real estate office across from a local State Farm Insurance Office where I went to make my direct car insurance payments; and who was also a lifeguard, not the dude STEVE, r “Holy-Spirit-Lifeguard” as he became known, as a result of things he said and did to me, all blogged on many previous blogs from quite a while back. It seems, according to this girl and dude pair of Haddonwood lifeguards, snapped a picture of me while I was flat on my back, playing dead, at the bottom of the Haddonwood swimming pool. They told me that he was “out there” and only a few peeps talked to him, and that I should watch myself. They also said he talks into his camera. Wow. This was 1996, folks. Never underestimate this incredible family. I did, and lived to freaking regret it. I lost everything I own in this world, including a non-hypothetical daughter, and as all things do indeed balance out, gained something, and that would be the true meaning of our family's 9+ generational name, HUNTINGTON. Somewhere in the Hampton's area, and all around the great county that flies over the radar, there are survivors of the direct line, males keep their names when marrying, and some were males in my mom's cousin Ruth Huntington's family. This line goes back to the great signer of the Declaration of Independence, Samuel, a good friend of mine while I am coexisting in another dreaming-interaction, named Benjamin Franklin. We all tried to create a great thing here, and the pigs from Reagan's nest that took capitalism to a new level that destroyed American middle-class-society forever, destroyed in a short wink in time, what we all busted out humps for a much longer time, to put into place. Shame on all of you wicked rotten Dogtownites. I was very angry a few days ago, and did not really mean that violence should ever be used to combat this evil, even though the United States constitution does indeed advocate the usage of this very tool should things ever get this out of control. Still, there must be a better way, and one suggested way is the Mountainpen Trilogy. Google it up in my past blogs, and wait for more future discussions, as I do tend to elaborate a lot more on the subject. The answer is not blood, then we would be no better than the pigs.
I know you are carefully watching my entire life, mighty beautiful 'Paula King'. I will always love you, and you know that, and NOTHING that you can do to me, will change that, PEE, SR.
END TRANSMISSION, AT ALL POINTS ON THE RADAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“ANOTHER SUNDAY OF SKY SIEGE-WEIN-SOSO-SSDD”
WORLD LABS OF 2295, DATFILE: CH-0272-112711.714
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
There are no perfect or even good weekends for me with my WOMO-ENEMY problems since the early middle nineteen-eighties, however, this one went better than I'd expected, all be it the holiday weekend with Thanks-2-Givens, and King Building Kite Flying dog Roofs, all notwithstanding.
It all began last night, late, or maybe early this morning, on east coast time; when I got around to checking out my voice-mail messages on my AT&T telephone, as I have both Comcast and AT&T phone service, as I like the AT&T better; and it actually, it would cost me more, to not include the Comcast Phone Package, with my internet and television service with them. Aniwho peeps, YO, I got a message about trouble with my medications, after leaving careful instructions with the pharmacy after what happened before with them and my insurance and my name vanishing and hacked off of the system; only this time I was sure that I was not refilling my prescriptions through the pharmacy system. In other words, you must, or I must, to be more accurate and specific here; ask the first pharmacy that you reach, to put you through to the actual local pharmacy of your local store, otherwise, it is potentially vulnerable to hack attacks from the great Millionth-Council-Lattisaw gang of the Bermuda WOMO Triangle system of the Astral Plane counterpart regions. I am still saying YOU in place of ME, Sarah-Stacey Krassle and I seem to have this numerous identity crisis, whether or not we choose consciously, to ever reveal or admit to this, to the waking world. Anyway, today, I cleared things up today, it was too complicated and personal, to get more specific about, on a public blogging system. LSS, I got my medications, but while over at the pharmacy, and seconds after I walked through the door, a strange MUZAK coincidence or ATTACK, struck me. I was in my bath tub less than an hour before this time, and was talking aloud to myself and mentioned the old Neilson song, “Can't Live”, and changing it and singing it in the shower, making it instead of “Can't live if living is without you”, into “if living is without meds”. This is no where near the first time that things have happened that prove to me that either the odds of millions to one against coincidence is what is going on, or else, I must be being monitored and illegally listened to in my residence dwelling. The song came pouring out over the pharmacy MUZAK or Public Address (PA) system.
Later at my second errand, loud and low private aerial assaults began, and as I type, I can hear small private Cessna jobs flying in the air still, it stopped as I typed this, so I am being monitored keystroke by keystroke, right Mister Dick L&O Wolf. My first errand was picking up the meds, and then it was over to Regis Philbin's TD Bank local branch on US-Route 1, to get balances on my accounts. My next or third and final errand, was to the Dollar Store, the Dollar Tree, several blocks back towards home at the 601 Building, MISTER WILLIAM LEONARD MCKINNON, SIR, OH GREAT FUTURE-MOVER-RASTAFARIAN TELEPHONE TAPER.
When I was at the store purchasing a few items totaling around seventeen dollars, many planes were around,. And along with them, come the strange numerous spurious ground incidents. This is why since forever now practically, I have come to recognize the fact and the truth that this is all totally connected, just as the US and other global military systems, find it a normal practice, since aerodynamic principles were discovered that permitted humankind the right to flight; to use a combined cohesive merging of both ground and air assaults on their enemies. A snotty tiny child knows this, whether the grown ups around them do or not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Speaking of this particular scientific knowledge, that was destined to eventually become acquired by humankind, in the last one percent or so, of their recorded history on the Planet Earth; there was a very wild dude who I met at a health club swimming pool in the middle of 1995 somewhere. A few peeps called him 'RC', so I did as well. One day, about a year after the time we first talked, he asked me if I was able to go the bottom of the ten foot pool where we both were hanging along the wall of this pool, and lay flat on my back for a few seconds. Just what his game was, only became partially known to me a few days before the club mysteriously closed down overnight with no notice at all, and no refunds on membership dues ever offered. This club, at least as of the time I left New Jersey to come down to live here in sunny Florida; closed and literally grew vines around its property, like out of a James Patterson novel, killed or not killed, sunglasses or no sunglasses, Atlantic City Beach Patrol!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was straight out of the plot on the sixties hit daytime soap-drama on television, called, “Dark Shadows”. The real fans remember the 1995 time trip, Gerard Stiles, and the left-to-rot COLLINWOOD Estate, a total duplicate of HADDONWOOD Swim and Health Club, 1970-1995. Anyone who can believe in this coincidence, I would love to try and introduce to the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, and the 7 Dwarfs and their pretty pal Geraldine Snow White, am I correct here, oh wonderful mighty Shah of Iran and President of MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY, of 1967????????????????????????????????? The few conspiracy theorists out here, know precisely just what I am talking about; whether they give credence to my personal incredible nightmare tale, or not. But here is where, as 'they' say, 'the plot thickens', my peeps. Number one, there is a powerful wordage parallel here, in Collinwood and Haddonwood. The great Disco-Diva Donna, can be one of the first to see and point out the WOOD part, as in the WOODS TEST PRESSING, and ATLANTIC RECORDS of Ancora, New Jersey, where her great unknown HAIR album was somehow involved with and in collusion with my place of employment as well, the Recorded Publications, in Camden, New Jersey, known as the abbreviated, RPL STUDIOS by the entire music industry, especially of the more distant past times. The LAW AND ORDER show, depicts a man, a very tall basketball player, and murderer, giving him the fictional name Cyrus N-WOOD, as in the way both of these institutions or estates end in their final five letters-NWOOD. In this particular episode on this great show, the Philadelphia 76'ers B-Ball team was called, the Cannons. Cyrus of course played for them but often played in the great city of NYC where this show is home based, and instead of calling them by their true name, the NEW YORK NICKS, this was changed for the show. If this alone does not tie into my powerful road-trip-interaction with the trip up to Boston, to the hotel with the strange heater-clock, and my learning how the Philadelphia Phillies would become the 2008 World Series Champions, then I fail to know how to ever prove that major stuff is happening all around my life, and has been since PEE SENIOR wanted me to give her a magical H-DAUT. There is much more to compare in these two names, vowel changes that become IO, or TEN, as in WE WERE BUT TEN, AND NOW WE'RE OLD, from the SARAH SONG, written by me on the 12th of May in 1996, the double consonants, D and L that will all be saved for a future discussion. Now let me tell about what I was told by the girl lifeguard who always hated me so much, she was a dike, and hated all men, and was rude and vulgar. She and a dude who worked at a real estate office across from a local State Farm Insurance Office where I went to make my direct car insurance payments; and who was also a lifeguard, not the dude STEVE, r “Holy-Spirit-Lifeguard” as he became known, as a result of things he said and did to me, all blogged on many previous blogs from quite a while back. It seems, according to this girl and dude pair of Haddonwood lifeguards, snapped a picture of me while I was flat on my back, playing dead, at the bottom of the Haddonwood swimming pool. They told me that he was “out there” and only a few peeps talked to him, and that I should watch myself. They also said he talks into his camera. Wow. This was 1996, folks. Never underestimate this incredible family. I did, and lived to freaking regret it. I lost everything I own in this world, including a non-hypothetical daughter, and as all things do indeed balance out, gained something, and that would be the true meaning of our family's 9+ generational name, HUNTINGTON. Somewhere in the Hampton's area, and all around the great county that flies over the radar, there are survivors of the direct line, males keep their names when marrying, and some were males in my mom's cousin Ruth Huntington's family. This line goes back to the great signer of the Declaration of Independence, Samuel, a good friend of mine while I am coexisting in another dreaming-interaction, named Benjamin Franklin. We all tried to create a great thing here, and the pigs from Reagan's nest that took capitalism to a new level that destroyed American middle-class-society forever, destroyed in a short wink in time, what we all busted out humps for a much longer time, to put into place. Shame on all of you wicked rotten Dogtownites. I was very angry a few days ago, and did not really mean that violence should ever be used to combat this evil, even though the United States constitution does indeed advocate the usage of this very tool should things ever get this out of control. Still, there must be a better way, and one suggested way is the Mountainpen Trilogy. Google it up in my past blogs, and wait for more future discussions, as I do tend to elaborate a lot more on the subject. The answer is not blood, then we would be no better than the pigs.
I know you are carefully watching my entire life, mighty beautiful 'Paula King'. I will always love you, and you know that, and NOTHING that you can do to me, will change that, PEE, SR.
END TRANSMISSION, AT ALL POINTS ON THE RADAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0272
SAFE JOURNAL, 0272
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START BLOG:
This is Thanksgiving morning in 2011. Very soon, I will be in Iraq or Afghanistan, and out of this totally EVIL EMPIRE.
No one will hurt me any longer once I free myself from the bondage of this nightmare game.
I will also be contacting the Federal Communications Commission as well as the American Civil Liberties Union before I leave at the end of the year. One major complaint I will be launching is against Google and You-Tube. No matter what I do, anything I post up there, is not accessible. In case anyone is interested, views are no different than anything else out here, the entire nation is up for sale, and has been. You can buy up to ten percent of a million views on these type of sites. It is not that expensive, but proves to me it is no more than a huge con game. You simply go and type in You-Tube Views, and up pops sites that will sell from normally 5 to 100 thousand, and somehow it does not get your videos banned, or so they say. In any case, some one out here has been silencing me for forty years, and you know, it takes no genius to figure it all out after being threatened, your entire life destroyed, and even locked up by authorities even after taking all kinds of proof and evidence to them that this is not imagined, and bringing witnesses with you to boot. THIS ENTIRE EVIL EMPIRE IS A FIXED CHERAP CON GAME, A BIG DOG AND PONY SHOW, and on top of that, they have ruined me, stolen from me, and owe me ten figure remunerative compensation, and they know it.
I feel so genuinely sorry for all the others out here who are still left, suffering in silent misery and way too scared to ever dare come forward, as I do. They told their truths once, as I did, and still do; and all for naught.
However, before I totally fixate on or blame anyone anywhere, the reality is bigger than any of this, and if the sweet wonderful Pope can stand this news, it is bigger than his great church, and he doesn't have to agree or like this information, as it changes nothing at all. An entire world exists that 99 percent of people do not even know one thing about. Those that know a little about it, still may as well no nothing, and even the few Steve Hawking, either keep their fucking mouth shut, or they pay for it in other ways that I need not blog, you can use your own imaginations.
I grow quite weary of mentally ill entities, revoltingly tired in their spirits of this endless existence we all share and exist in various dimly aware states of parallel universe interaction and cohabitation. No one understands that they are either awake in one quantum flux of reality, or in virtually unlimited other states in parallel existences. Further, this is why we think we have this one life that appears so solid and constant, as the calendars on our walls, when this is the biggest illusion and dog and pony show in the cosmos. Beyond even this, incredible truth exists, that human entities twist and bend and turn into various belief systems and religions.
For the groups who love to put me down, and call me a ranter, and or insane; I will bet any amount of mob borrowed money, double or nothing; that you are closed minded, and would not want real truth, if it slammed into you like a planet smashing meteorite.
There are some people like me, who are suffering in a nightmare. Many believe we are insane. Many have gone insane. If you carefully study insanity and all of its various features that are regularly diagnosed by the psychiatric profession, there is a difference in the way I speak, and the way this group who have finally lost touch, speak. The simple truth however, is that you NEED TO THINK AND BELIEVE, THAT I AM CRAZY. This is YOUR crutch folks, not mine. You would go out and blow your fucking brains out if I proved all the shit in my past six years of blogs, is all real and totally true, down to the nth degree.
Trying to word this in ways that even a few will try to understand who never experienced the real-weird-stuff; is the difficult if not absolutely impossible job of the few of us wh have survived, what Roddenberry refers to as the “Q-Continuum on his great television science-fiction show, called, “Star Trek, TNG”. Many of his powerful messages, went over everyone's head. Only the tortured few like myself, slowly pieced a lot of this together, while maintaining some small level of relative waking world sanity, whatever the hell this really is, folks. For six plus years, my blogs tell a lot more than just about a great family that is a bit more than they akll appear to be. It goes far beyond it, yet still, let me tell you asll just a tad bit about the year of 2011, and them. Running down to Florida in middle December of 2009, only prolonged my predestined agony and doom. I lost everything I had, and they could care less. On top of this, they contact me from time to time, and it is timed to the tee. When I called Sheriff Monk earlier in the year, two members from 3,000 miles apart called me all within a half hour. When I posted the powerful blog a few blogs ago, again, I heard from them, after they cut me off for a while, with lame excuses and explanations. A lpot more is happening people, than I could ever tell or blog, due to laws, and my lack of credibility. I know that power in this world cannot be fouight or beaten by the powerless. The entire Occupy movement is doomed to fail, unless they take up arms and fight and take back what is ours. Everything that has been done to the little 99ers is totally illegal, since dirt bag Ron Reagan was elected as President in November of 1980. This was a quanta wave reality that could not be held back, not after I doomed us all by daring to send the song called, “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”, down to the United States Copyright Office. I have made my share of mistakes, and will take a lot of mother fucking blame. If I do not, then I am just a low life bottom feeder coward, and a no good rotten ass hole son of a bitch prick. Yes, I am very sorry for a lot of things that I have done, and still must do. But so much more is all behind just this silly waking dream world we all our in here, and there is simply no way in hell to get into it.
For the few Trekkers out there, you need to see that in the show with Q and his 'daughter', an alternate reality needs to exist in quantum flux, not only in a fictional television show, but in the source where this imagined mind image is all coming out of. The mathematics behind all these words is there, and just a bit ahead of most college math majors. Many start to see some frightening quantum reality, and they run and duck for cover, and refuse to go beyond what they know at that point. Einstein himself was in this category, and later recanted nearer to the time where he exited human life, admitting that Quantum Physics is not some wild fiction, or mentally deluded concepts. When the math all adds up, only the perfectly ignorant, remain transfixed with old ideas and notions.
As for my horrendous attack yesterday, this is nothing new. It began after I returned from a powerful dream, on August 15th in 1986, and because I kept both a taped life journal in those days, as well as a visual chart in numbers that reflected the type of days that I would have almost like a digital-diary, it was simple to prove to myself, that there really was life before this night of the nightmare, and then there was the life I began to live, afterward, and it was as different as black and white, and came upon me at the speed of a rocket.
As for my GAWNUM answer on what triggered this day of November the twenty-third; I have decided that until I bring a friend over here to help me out again, with this machine, I will leave well enough alone, and keep my mother fucking big fat mouth SHUT. ********** END OF BLOG. **********
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START BLOG:
This is Thanksgiving morning in 2011. Very soon, I will be in Iraq or Afghanistan, and out of this totally EVIL EMPIRE.
No one will hurt me any longer once I free myself from the bondage of this nightmare game.
I will also be contacting the Federal Communications Commission as well as the American Civil Liberties Union before I leave at the end of the year. One major complaint I will be launching is against Google and You-Tube. No matter what I do, anything I post up there, is not accessible. In case anyone is interested, views are no different than anything else out here, the entire nation is up for sale, and has been. You can buy up to ten percent of a million views on these type of sites. It is not that expensive, but proves to me it is no more than a huge con game. You simply go and type in You-Tube Views, and up pops sites that will sell from normally 5 to 100 thousand, and somehow it does not get your videos banned, or so they say. In any case, some one out here has been silencing me for forty years, and you know, it takes no genius to figure it all out after being threatened, your entire life destroyed, and even locked up by authorities even after taking all kinds of proof and evidence to them that this is not imagined, and bringing witnesses with you to boot. THIS ENTIRE EVIL EMPIRE IS A FIXED CHERAP CON GAME, A BIG DOG AND PONY SHOW, and on top of that, they have ruined me, stolen from me, and owe me ten figure remunerative compensation, and they know it.
I feel so genuinely sorry for all the others out here who are still left, suffering in silent misery and way too scared to ever dare come forward, as I do. They told their truths once, as I did, and still do; and all for naught.
However, before I totally fixate on or blame anyone anywhere, the reality is bigger than any of this, and if the sweet wonderful Pope can stand this news, it is bigger than his great church, and he doesn't have to agree or like this information, as it changes nothing at all. An entire world exists that 99 percent of people do not even know one thing about. Those that know a little about it, still may as well no nothing, and even the few Steve Hawking, either keep their fucking mouth shut, or they pay for it in other ways that I need not blog, you can use your own imaginations.
I grow quite weary of mentally ill entities, revoltingly tired in their spirits of this endless existence we all share and exist in various dimly aware states of parallel universe interaction and cohabitation. No one understands that they are either awake in one quantum flux of reality, or in virtually unlimited other states in parallel existences. Further, this is why we think we have this one life that appears so solid and constant, as the calendars on our walls, when this is the biggest illusion and dog and pony show in the cosmos. Beyond even this, incredible truth exists, that human entities twist and bend and turn into various belief systems and religions.
For the groups who love to put me down, and call me a ranter, and or insane; I will bet any amount of mob borrowed money, double or nothing; that you are closed minded, and would not want real truth, if it slammed into you like a planet smashing meteorite.
There are some people like me, who are suffering in a nightmare. Many believe we are insane. Many have gone insane. If you carefully study insanity and all of its various features that are regularly diagnosed by the psychiatric profession, there is a difference in the way I speak, and the way this group who have finally lost touch, speak. The simple truth however, is that you NEED TO THINK AND BELIEVE, THAT I AM CRAZY. This is YOUR crutch folks, not mine. You would go out and blow your fucking brains out if I proved all the shit in my past six years of blogs, is all real and totally true, down to the nth degree.
Trying to word this in ways that even a few will try to understand who never experienced the real-weird-stuff; is the difficult if not absolutely impossible job of the few of us wh have survived, what Roddenberry refers to as the “Q-Continuum on his great television science-fiction show, called, “Star Trek, TNG”. Many of his powerful messages, went over everyone's head. Only the tortured few like myself, slowly pieced a lot of this together, while maintaining some small level of relative waking world sanity, whatever the hell this really is, folks. For six plus years, my blogs tell a lot more than just about a great family that is a bit more than they akll appear to be. It goes far beyond it, yet still, let me tell you asll just a tad bit about the year of 2011, and them. Running down to Florida in middle December of 2009, only prolonged my predestined agony and doom. I lost everything I had, and they could care less. On top of this, they contact me from time to time, and it is timed to the tee. When I called Sheriff Monk earlier in the year, two members from 3,000 miles apart called me all within a half hour. When I posted the powerful blog a few blogs ago, again, I heard from them, after they cut me off for a while, with lame excuses and explanations. A lpot more is happening people, than I could ever tell or blog, due to laws, and my lack of credibility. I know that power in this world cannot be fouight or beaten by the powerless. The entire Occupy movement is doomed to fail, unless they take up arms and fight and take back what is ours. Everything that has been done to the little 99ers is totally illegal, since dirt bag Ron Reagan was elected as President in November of 1980. This was a quanta wave reality that could not be held back, not after I doomed us all by daring to send the song called, “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS”, down to the United States Copyright Office. I have made my share of mistakes, and will take a lot of mother fucking blame. If I do not, then I am just a low life bottom feeder coward, and a no good rotten ass hole son of a bitch prick. Yes, I am very sorry for a lot of things that I have done, and still must do. But so much more is all behind just this silly waking dream world we all our in here, and there is simply no way in hell to get into it.
For the few Trekkers out there, you need to see that in the show with Q and his 'daughter', an alternate reality needs to exist in quantum flux, not only in a fictional television show, but in the source where this imagined mind image is all coming out of. The mathematics behind all these words is there, and just a bit ahead of most college math majors. Many start to see some frightening quantum reality, and they run and duck for cover, and refuse to go beyond what they know at that point. Einstein himself was in this category, and later recanted nearer to the time where he exited human life, admitting that Quantum Physics is not some wild fiction, or mentally deluded concepts. When the math all adds up, only the perfectly ignorant, remain transfixed with old ideas and notions.
As for my horrendous attack yesterday, this is nothing new. It began after I returned from a powerful dream, on August 15th in 1986, and because I kept both a taped life journal in those days, as well as a visual chart in numbers that reflected the type of days that I would have almost like a digital-diary, it was simple to prove to myself, that there really was life before this night of the nightmare, and then there was the life I began to live, afterward, and it was as different as black and white, and came upon me at the speed of a rocket.
As for my GAWNUM answer on what triggered this day of November the twenty-third; I have decided that until I bring a friend over here to help me out again, with this machine, I will leave well enough alone, and keep my mother fucking big fat mouth SHUT. ********** END OF BLOG. **********
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0271
“THANKSGIVING SIEGE HAS STRUCK ONE DAY AHEAD”
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0271
1:19 PM-EST-WEDNESDAY, DEVIL NUMBER-23,
BOTBAR MONTH-11, WORST YEAR OF MY MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR LIFE, TWENTY-BOTBAR-ELEVEN (11)
LET ME MOTHER FUCKING TRY TO COMPENSATE AND
CUNT-PEN-RAPE A LITTLE HERE, MI-MORIANS, YO; WITH 5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555.
THANK YOU, GIVENS KING BROKEN HAWK NOSES, SIR LAMBRIGGER JABEZ DS, DS, DS, AND SO MANY OTHER NEGATIVE INITIAL COMBOS OF THE SWEET OLD ENGLISH ALPHABET, BRO.
I WAS RUDELY FUCKING AWAKENED TO A COURT SUMMONS DUDE AT MY DOOR, TELLING ME I AM BEING SUED, EARLY THIS MOuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuRNING.
CHEMTRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE, AND SO ARE LOUD AND LOW AIRCRAFTS, THAT ARE ALL PERSECUTING AND HARASSIONG ME TO DEATH. IT IS FUCKING 1988 AND 1989 ALL FUCKING OVER AGAIN, TODAY, IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, BUT READ ON, YO. CHEMTRAILS-U-TUBE.COM/ GOOGLE UP CHEMTRAILS, GO TO THE TUBE, AND TYPE IN THE NAME, IT IS ALL OVER; AND IT ALL STARTED WITH ME LATE IN 1987; AT MOUNT LAUREL, NEW JERSEY; ON GAITHER DRIVE ,AT THE AMERICAN HONDA PLANT.
MY COMCAST CABLE WAS KNOCKED OFF, SO THAT I COULD NOT BLOG THIS ONTO MY WEBSITES, WWW.BLOGGER.COM/ AND WWW.WORDPRESS.COM/. THERE IS A RECORDING YOU GET WHEN CALLING THE COMCAST CABLE, SAYING THAT AROUND 7 OR 8 TONIGHT, IT WILL BE REPAIRED. MY COMCAST PHONE-LINES ARE ALSO DEAD. WHAT REALLY ARE THE FUCKING CHANCES, FOLKS; THAT THIS ALL ALWAYS SEEMS TO HAPPEN TOGETHER, CONSTITUTING FOR 25+ YEARS, WHAT I TERM (ATTACKS)?
IF ANY ONE OF YOU OUT HERE WOULD BUY INTO 25+ YEARS OF THIS HELL NIGHTMARE MOTHERFUCKING SHIT, THAN MY RESPONSE IS, GOOD FOR YOU. IN MY BOOK, I HAVE A DIPLOMA IN YOUR NAME, THAT IS ALL READY PRINTED UP, CALLED THE SORIAN-18-CALLIO-ASSHOLES CLUB-TOP-100. I AM HANGING IT ON ALL OF YOUR WALLS, IN MY MENTAL REALM. I SEE CLEARER THAN ALL OF THE JOHNNY NASH'S OF THE PLANET BACK IN 1972, JUST HOW DESERVING YOU WOULD BE OF THIS GREAT PIECE OF LITERARY ARTWORK ON YOUR WALL, HOME OR OFFICE, DEPICTING YOUR FANTASTIC ACCOMPLISHMENT IN THE TOTAL ABSOLUTE FUCKING DENIAL OF REALITY. BUT STILL, I ASSURE YOU, THAT IF THIS WAS ALL GOING ON WITH YOU, OR ONE OF YOUR LOVED ONES; YOU WOULD NOT BE BELIEVING IT EITHER. IT IS SO EASY TO LAUGH AT AND DOUBT ME, FUCK ME, I DON'T FUCKING COUNT FOR MOTHER FUCKING SHIT, AND I NEVER DID, RIGHT GRAND-MOMMY, MOM????? IF ANYONE OUT HERE EVER KNEW A MOTHER, WHO DID NOT CARE ONE BIT, IF SHE EVER HAD A 'GRANDCHILD', YOU JUST SEND ME WHATEVER THE SHIT IT IS, THAT FLASHES ON THE SYSTEM, WHEN I ENTER THE ONLINE WORLD AND GET STRANGE MESSAGES, THAT I NEVER RESPOND TO. I AM TOO BUSY BEING SUED, FLYING OVER THE AMERICAN RADAR SYSTEM; AND WATCHING OUT AND BEING CAREFUL NOT TO INCURR THE ANGER AND WRATH OF SOMEBODY WHO INSISTED ON TRADING HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMAS WITH DAUGHTERS, WHILE THE WORLD HATES ME, JEERS ME, LAUGHS AT ME, AND WANTS ME FUCKING DEAD. NOTHING ANY OF YOU ARE FUCKING DOING, IS GETTING BY ME, AS I MAY FAKE OUT LIKE IT IS, ONLY TO USE IT AGAINST YOU AT SOME FUCKING FUTURE DATE AND TIME. BELIEVE THAT, AND FUCK SANTA CLAUSE. YOU HAVE ASSAULTED ME ONE TIME TO MANY, YOU ROTTEN PUNK. YOU WILL END UP IN THE EVERGLADES, AND THIS YOU CAN TAKE OVER TO THE TD BANK, AND SAY HELLO TO MISTER WATERSTON FOR ME, AS YOUR HEAD IS BEING SWALLOWED BY SOMETHING NOWHERE AS GOOD LOOKING AS MIZZ DELANEYTEEN FROM 1969, YO.
LET ME NOW SAY A QUICK THING THAT I WILL COME BACK LATER WITH MUCH MORE ABOUT...................................
I opened up the story of the Bluebook, and Quantum Mechanics, Project-UFO-USAF, and so much more, and told you that NONE of this cover up, has to do with real space aliens, saucers; or anything like this. It is only about a million fucking times bigger than any of that, and it would be instantly destructive to the powers that be, and their horrendous hold over all of us; that began with the unknown MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY in 1948, and led within a few years; to the BLUEBOOK INVESTIGATION, and its short life, after the magic seal was placed on it a few years later. I am going to shortly begin showing all of you, how to do unimaginable small things, just as a proof to you; that I am not a Doctor Goldberg nut, from the Dishonorable Air Force. It is coming very soon, but not right now. I must use all the available time now to fight the Quantum (Q) Worlds, in other more pressing ways. I can totally promise, that somebody, somewhere; will be very sorry, after the huge EARTHQUAKE wipes out so many innocent lives; and all I can say is, I AM VERY, VERY, VERY, MOTHER FUCKING SORRY. “I DID NOT START THIS FUCKING TRANSDIMENSIONAL WAR”. THE EGGS FROM THE HARBOR DID, 50 MILLION FUCKING YEARS AGO, AND THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE, KNOWS ALL ABOUT IT. COLOR ME SO IMPRESSED, YELLOW SHEETS ON THE MAKE-ME-THINK BEDS, OF JULIA WHITENIGHTMARES BRISCOE. GAWKY GAUKAUK WILL TELL ME LATER TODAY, WHY THIS WAS SO OFF THE SCALE FUCKING MONSTROUS TODAY. LET ME QUICKLY TELL YOU HOW TO OPERATE THIS PART OF THE GAWNUM FOLKS. YOU ARE ABOUT TO GET YOUR FUCKING MINDS BLOWN IF YOU WOULD JUST TRY IT, AND KNOW I WOULD NOT STEER YOU WRONG, AS WHAT WOULD I GAIN BY SHOWING YOU, THAT I AM JUST A STUPID FUCKING NO GOOD CRAZY CAT FOOL, YO?
Take a set of ordinary playing cards, and remove tens, royals, and jokers, leaving you with four suits of aces through nines. You'll have a total of 36 cards. If you like having more cards, then add in your second deck of cards, but remove the same cards, and then shuffle this bunch of 72 cards, and while you are shuffling, and drawing the cards that I'll explain about in just a second, you need to be thinking about your question to the cosmos, and only about this, nothing else can enter into your thoughts, as the thoughts will be responded to by your two card picks. For example, I will be asking several things today, and my very first question will be, how come today was so fucking major monstrous, with all this shit, happening against me; in this unfathomable procession? Now as I continue to dwell on this query, and only on this; I will shuffle, and then randomly decide to draw one single card, the value of the ace is number one, and the 2-9 is the number itself. So my two card draws will be done as follows. I will pick the first card and write down the number value as root-digit-one, in the PCN-GAWNUM. Then while still pondering on my question, and only this, with NOTHING ELSE WHATSOEVER happening in my mental thoughts, again, at pure random; I will draw the second pick, as this will be root-digit-two, in the PCN-GAWNUM, (Gawky Gaukauk's Numerology). The third digit is always the difference between the two digits of the root digits, and this gives the PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER (PCN). Later before this holiday HELLIDAY is over, I will tell you what number popped out and, all of the matching things pertaining to that number that show up in my booklet of “PCN-LISTINGS”, as I refer to this as. I will also tell you what Gawky has to say about why and or how, the sound of 'MI' got onto the original “Real Good Girl” song, in 1986; onto the open-reel-master-audio tape. I will tell quite a few things, that the Gawnum said; and highlight some powerful doozies, that were spoken to me, over the past few years; since I learned why my mom never cared about being a grandmother. YUK-YUK-YUK-YUK-FRANKLIN FUNNY, Sheila.
Take the mind bending shit, this fucking far with me, you diseased 'Q, Satan, World of E, or whatever' you choose to see your twisted sick selves as; and do not expect a benign counterstrike, or else; you seriously fucking underestimate me, BRAH!!!!!!!! Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.
THANK-YOU SO MUCH, for not leaving me SSJK. I did not think you would, but I do admit that I need to trust you a lot more. You know I trust nobody, and everything is perceived negatively by me. For this I am so very sorry. Please bear with me through this nightmare. I will not let you down. Tell Ding-Dong, that I am not as dumb as he thought I was, if you have not all ready done this. What does this SOB want from me? He all ready owns the planet, has you; and all the other TQ's he wants; behind your back. I am surely not telling you something that is news to you. I know your holiday will be a bit better than mine is shaping up to be, and I am at least happy for that. Tell Paula I am not afraid of her, and that I said to be careful. Yesterday, I was driving home from work, and a man with a jersey, crossed the street in front of me, while I was stopped at a red traffic light. The number of “1996”, on this jersey; was unmissable. A few seconds later, an orange Explorer Mini non-Viqueen-van, was in front of me, license plate, FLORIDA, and NIKKY, if my memory is serving me half correctly. This van vanished in front of me. I took my eyes off of the road, for less than five seconds; and it did a 'Selena Dada beach day at Central Pier' on me, poof, gone; with Electroluv and Electrolux, and 'hubby Darren'. The only magic missed here, were the words 'Road-Trip'!!!
So for whoever is attacking me, so ruthlessly, and viciously; MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, SCAN THEM, AND TOTALLY DESTROY THEM, and ALL OF THEIR LOVED ONES, UNDER ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS, AND----S----T----O----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*****************END TRANSMISSION:*****************
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0271
1:19 PM-EST-WEDNESDAY, DEVIL NUMBER-23,
BOTBAR MONTH-11, WORST YEAR OF MY MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR LIFE, TWENTY-BOTBAR-ELEVEN (11)
LET ME MOTHER FUCKING TRY TO COMPENSATE AND
CUNT-PEN-RAPE A LITTLE HERE, MI-MORIANS, YO; WITH 5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555.
THANK YOU, GIVENS KING BROKEN HAWK NOSES, SIR LAMBRIGGER JABEZ DS, DS, DS, AND SO MANY OTHER NEGATIVE INITIAL COMBOS OF THE SWEET OLD ENGLISH ALPHABET, BRO.
I WAS RUDELY FUCKING AWAKENED TO A COURT SUMMONS DUDE AT MY DOOR, TELLING ME I AM BEING SUED, EARLY THIS MOuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuRNING.
CHEMTRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE, AND SO ARE LOUD AND LOW AIRCRAFTS, THAT ARE ALL PERSECUTING AND HARASSIONG ME TO DEATH. IT IS FUCKING 1988 AND 1989 ALL FUCKING OVER AGAIN, TODAY, IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, BUT READ ON, YO. CHEMTRAILS-U-TUBE.COM/ GOOGLE UP CHEMTRAILS, GO TO THE TUBE, AND TYPE IN THE NAME, IT IS ALL OVER; AND IT ALL STARTED WITH ME LATE IN 1987; AT MOUNT LAUREL, NEW JERSEY; ON GAITHER DRIVE ,AT THE AMERICAN HONDA PLANT.
MY COMCAST CABLE WAS KNOCKED OFF, SO THAT I COULD NOT BLOG THIS ONTO MY WEBSITES, WWW.BLOGGER.COM/ AND WWW.WORDPRESS.COM/. THERE IS A RECORDING YOU GET WHEN CALLING THE COMCAST CABLE, SAYING THAT AROUND 7 OR 8 TONIGHT, IT WILL BE REPAIRED. MY COMCAST PHONE-LINES ARE ALSO DEAD. WHAT REALLY ARE THE FUCKING CHANCES, FOLKS; THAT THIS ALL ALWAYS SEEMS TO HAPPEN TOGETHER, CONSTITUTING FOR 25+ YEARS, WHAT I TERM (ATTACKS)?
IF ANY ONE OF YOU OUT HERE WOULD BUY INTO 25+ YEARS OF THIS HELL NIGHTMARE MOTHERFUCKING SHIT, THAN MY RESPONSE IS, GOOD FOR YOU. IN MY BOOK, I HAVE A DIPLOMA IN YOUR NAME, THAT IS ALL READY PRINTED UP, CALLED THE SORIAN-18-CALLIO-ASSHOLES CLUB-TOP-100. I AM HANGING IT ON ALL OF YOUR WALLS, IN MY MENTAL REALM. I SEE CLEARER THAN ALL OF THE JOHNNY NASH'S OF THE PLANET BACK IN 1972, JUST HOW DESERVING YOU WOULD BE OF THIS GREAT PIECE OF LITERARY ARTWORK ON YOUR WALL, HOME OR OFFICE, DEPICTING YOUR FANTASTIC ACCOMPLISHMENT IN THE TOTAL ABSOLUTE FUCKING DENIAL OF REALITY. BUT STILL, I ASSURE YOU, THAT IF THIS WAS ALL GOING ON WITH YOU, OR ONE OF YOUR LOVED ONES; YOU WOULD NOT BE BELIEVING IT EITHER. IT IS SO EASY TO LAUGH AT AND DOUBT ME, FUCK ME, I DON'T FUCKING COUNT FOR MOTHER FUCKING SHIT, AND I NEVER DID, RIGHT GRAND-MOMMY, MOM????? IF ANYONE OUT HERE EVER KNEW A MOTHER, WHO DID NOT CARE ONE BIT, IF SHE EVER HAD A 'GRANDCHILD', YOU JUST SEND ME WHATEVER THE SHIT IT IS, THAT FLASHES ON THE SYSTEM, WHEN I ENTER THE ONLINE WORLD AND GET STRANGE MESSAGES, THAT I NEVER RESPOND TO. I AM TOO BUSY BEING SUED, FLYING OVER THE AMERICAN RADAR SYSTEM; AND WATCHING OUT AND BEING CAREFUL NOT TO INCURR THE ANGER AND WRATH OF SOMEBODY WHO INSISTED ON TRADING HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMAS WITH DAUGHTERS, WHILE THE WORLD HATES ME, JEERS ME, LAUGHS AT ME, AND WANTS ME FUCKING DEAD. NOTHING ANY OF YOU ARE FUCKING DOING, IS GETTING BY ME, AS I MAY FAKE OUT LIKE IT IS, ONLY TO USE IT AGAINST YOU AT SOME FUCKING FUTURE DATE AND TIME. BELIEVE THAT, AND FUCK SANTA CLAUSE. YOU HAVE ASSAULTED ME ONE TIME TO MANY, YOU ROTTEN PUNK. YOU WILL END UP IN THE EVERGLADES, AND THIS YOU CAN TAKE OVER TO THE TD BANK, AND SAY HELLO TO MISTER WATERSTON FOR ME, AS YOUR HEAD IS BEING SWALLOWED BY SOMETHING NOWHERE AS GOOD LOOKING AS MIZZ DELANEYTEEN FROM 1969, YO.
LET ME NOW SAY A QUICK THING THAT I WILL COME BACK LATER WITH MUCH MORE ABOUT...................................
I opened up the story of the Bluebook, and Quantum Mechanics, Project-UFO-USAF, and so much more, and told you that NONE of this cover up, has to do with real space aliens, saucers; or anything like this. It is only about a million fucking times bigger than any of that, and it would be instantly destructive to the powers that be, and their horrendous hold over all of us; that began with the unknown MARY CARTER PAINT COMPANY in 1948, and led within a few years; to the BLUEBOOK INVESTIGATION, and its short life, after the magic seal was placed on it a few years later. I am going to shortly begin showing all of you, how to do unimaginable small things, just as a proof to you; that I am not a Doctor Goldberg nut, from the Dishonorable Air Force. It is coming very soon, but not right now. I must use all the available time now to fight the Quantum (Q) Worlds, in other more pressing ways. I can totally promise, that somebody, somewhere; will be very sorry, after the huge EARTHQUAKE wipes out so many innocent lives; and all I can say is, I AM VERY, VERY, VERY, MOTHER FUCKING SORRY. “I DID NOT START THIS FUCKING TRANSDIMENSIONAL WAR”. THE EGGS FROM THE HARBOR DID, 50 MILLION FUCKING YEARS AGO, AND THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE, KNOWS ALL ABOUT IT. COLOR ME SO IMPRESSED, YELLOW SHEETS ON THE MAKE-ME-THINK BEDS, OF JULIA WHITENIGHTMARES BRISCOE. GAWKY GAUKAUK WILL TELL ME LATER TODAY, WHY THIS WAS SO OFF THE SCALE FUCKING MONSTROUS TODAY. LET ME QUICKLY TELL YOU HOW TO OPERATE THIS PART OF THE GAWNUM FOLKS. YOU ARE ABOUT TO GET YOUR FUCKING MINDS BLOWN IF YOU WOULD JUST TRY IT, AND KNOW I WOULD NOT STEER YOU WRONG, AS WHAT WOULD I GAIN BY SHOWING YOU, THAT I AM JUST A STUPID FUCKING NO GOOD CRAZY CAT FOOL, YO?
Take a set of ordinary playing cards, and remove tens, royals, and jokers, leaving you with four suits of aces through nines. You'll have a total of 36 cards. If you like having more cards, then add in your second deck of cards, but remove the same cards, and then shuffle this bunch of 72 cards, and while you are shuffling, and drawing the cards that I'll explain about in just a second, you need to be thinking about your question to the cosmos, and only about this, nothing else can enter into your thoughts, as the thoughts will be responded to by your two card picks. For example, I will be asking several things today, and my very first question will be, how come today was so fucking major monstrous, with all this shit, happening against me; in this unfathomable procession? Now as I continue to dwell on this query, and only on this; I will shuffle, and then randomly decide to draw one single card, the value of the ace is number one, and the 2-9 is the number itself. So my two card draws will be done as follows. I will pick the first card and write down the number value as root-digit-one, in the PCN-GAWNUM. Then while still pondering on my question, and only this, with NOTHING ELSE WHATSOEVER happening in my mental thoughts, again, at pure random; I will draw the second pick, as this will be root-digit-two, in the PCN-GAWNUM, (Gawky Gaukauk's Numerology). The third digit is always the difference between the two digits of the root digits, and this gives the PRIVATE-COSMICODED-NUMBER (PCN). Later before this holiday HELLIDAY is over, I will tell you what number popped out and, all of the matching things pertaining to that number that show up in my booklet of “PCN-LISTINGS”, as I refer to this as. I will also tell you what Gawky has to say about why and or how, the sound of 'MI' got onto the original “Real Good Girl” song, in 1986; onto the open-reel-master-audio tape. I will tell quite a few things, that the Gawnum said; and highlight some powerful doozies, that were spoken to me, over the past few years; since I learned why my mom never cared about being a grandmother. YUK-YUK-YUK-YUK-FRANKLIN FUNNY, Sheila.
Take the mind bending shit, this fucking far with me, you diseased 'Q, Satan, World of E, or whatever' you choose to see your twisted sick selves as; and do not expect a benign counterstrike, or else; you seriously fucking underestimate me, BRAH!!!!!!!! Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.
THANK-YOU SO MUCH, for not leaving me SSJK. I did not think you would, but I do admit that I need to trust you a lot more. You know I trust nobody, and everything is perceived negatively by me. For this I am so very sorry. Please bear with me through this nightmare. I will not let you down. Tell Ding-Dong, that I am not as dumb as he thought I was, if you have not all ready done this. What does this SOB want from me? He all ready owns the planet, has you; and all the other TQ's he wants; behind your back. I am surely not telling you something that is news to you. I know your holiday will be a bit better than mine is shaping up to be, and I am at least happy for that. Tell Paula I am not afraid of her, and that I said to be careful. Yesterday, I was driving home from work, and a man with a jersey, crossed the street in front of me, while I was stopped at a red traffic light. The number of “1996”, on this jersey; was unmissable. A few seconds later, an orange Explorer Mini non-Viqueen-van, was in front of me, license plate, FLORIDA, and NIKKY, if my memory is serving me half correctly. This van vanished in front of me. I took my eyes off of the road, for less than five seconds; and it did a 'Selena Dada beach day at Central Pier' on me, poof, gone; with Electroluv and Electrolux, and 'hubby Darren'. The only magic missed here, were the words 'Road-Trip'!!!
So for whoever is attacking me, so ruthlessly, and viciously; MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesonic, SCAN THEM, AND TOTALLY DESTROY THEM, and ALL OF THEIR LOVED ONES, UNDER ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS, AND----S----T----O----P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*****************END TRANSMISSION:*****************
Sunday, November 20, 2011
KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0270
SOMEONE DID THEIR BEST TO PREVENT ME FROM LOGGING ON TO THE SITE.
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0270
1:54 AM-EST, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2011
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
NO 4TH S.T.
BEGINNING BLOG:
This is a message to my government who loves and adores me so much, and could care less about my seventh grand pop, Sammy H. He and his pals only started this whole thing and won their independence from British Monarchy, and began the greatest experiment in history, the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Don't mind me if I am in the way up here in the future, and breathing, and taking up your wonderful space.
Forgive me for being born. I am sorry my parents fucked and had me, Unk Sam, but that was a little bit beyond my control. Maybe I should have learned how to fly over the radar system before my dad yellow out, wheeeeeee, on one particular dark night somewhere in the first week of March, in 1954. So-sorry, Mister Ambassador, and Teddy.
Since you all despise my living guts so much, you will be happy to know that I will be out of your wonderful EMPIRE and in a very dangerous location, before too long, so you can have your GOOD-RIDDANCE PARTY, very shortly. Maybe I'll be shot and killed. We all know that this will be a meaningless event. Having a little bit of information is extremely deadly dangerous, this is an old lesson, taught to nearly every child, by nearly every parent, the world around and practically forever. My lack of knowledge that I played a forbidden game with, was the world of the Quantum. This is a world that is completely unforgiving, there are no crosses, saviors to die for sins, or any other atomic plus sized world mumbo-jumbo. Things like this can work there, but simply not in the 'places' where I have played in however.
I will tell the wonderful and omnipotent government of mine now, some of the true story; that may, or may not, have ever been officially blogged; in my more than six years of these blogs.
On several occasions, you have tapped my telephone, entered my premises with FISA Warrants, as I came to learn from my indirect EW friends, financed through perhaps the cousins of old 1965 pal, Alan J. Wolf, of Princeton, NJ. You learned nothing, because there is nothing to learn. I am not keeping any secrets from you. To your surprise, most of the peeps you watch and follow, would gladly, as I would, give their eye teeth to work with you in a collaborated effort, to find out just why we have been chosen to be on the receiving end of some kind of something, that we do not totally or even barely partially understand. Let me speak for myself, as I only really have the right to do. I would sell my soul to the devil, or whatever the reality equivalent to that nonsense is, to work with you on my problem. You know it is real, don't try and mother fucking bullshit me for a second, all though of course you will. I would love to have all of this stopped, as you would love to not have the worry of my abilities to damage your precious empire and capitalism out of control. Still, this seemingly endless stalemate fight between us rages on, and will, because you don't have the stones to stop this and work with me, against these quantum forces. You know I am not a nut. You know it is all real a million times better than I do, and this is why you closed the books. This is why I faced the unfathomable brick wall of AT&T in 1983. This is why I had the fucking brainpower to use your Copyright Office, to at least keep some kind of record and proof that I lived here on this Earth, and indeed suffered through these inconceivable and monstrous woes. If I knew a better way, I would not have bothered the Library of Congress with tons of garbage, over the past 36 years since 1975. If you think I will ever forget the many ugly details, of my moving from 1802 Robin Hill apartments in Voorhees, NJUSAESMWG, into 134 Norris Avenue in Atco, NJUSAESMWG, on the 1st day of February of 1983, you are sadly-Carrie unforgettably mistaken. The entire EW is also in for a rude awakening, if they think what they have done to me since the early eighties, will go unpunished. The evil that you have done, magically has gone 180 degrees, and has now revealed, and goes on revealing; no matter how you may now try and avoid it; all the truths in my entire miserable hell ridden life.
I am going to tell the powers that be in this world, my powerful recent interaction, somewhere in hyperspace. A number of days ago, I retired to bed around 1 or so in the morning, and fell into an instant weird as shit sleep. Strange noises were all around me, in my room, but not. Then I was back in 1986, in Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG. Suddenly, I go up and realized the calendar showed the time as December in 1986, a quarter of a fucking century ago. It was my birthday, the 4th, coming up shortly. My mother was an entirely different person, so I was not in a localized hyperspace, but more distant. I hated my neighbors, what else is new?, in the reality that I remember now in waking present 2011 life, but over there, I had made friends with them, the ass holes from the next yard to the south of Richard Barf Karpf's home at 1931 Marlton Pike, one and the same thing as Route #70. Blog 0270 seems appropriate for all this to be happening. The Wolf clan would say this is purely unintentional and coincidental, but I know it is always a little more than that, because I understand the Quantum worlds where everything that we think we are, is all inside of. Simply put peeps, there are two powerful secrets in this living world of the non-dead folks, one may be talked about on science channels, not both. It goes like this. Nothing is the same if event A is observed, or not observed. The observation of the event-A is part of the event-A. It literally is one thing if observed, and if ignored by all of the 6th dimension, it then becomes the event, with the difference of the inclusion of a variation. Said in another way, observed it is an apple pie, and ignored, it is an apple pie in a state of quantum flux, where it can become observed as the pie, or ignored and re-observed, as the same energy of this pie, but in a totally different form, still equal to E=MC-SQ, however, this goes beyond that formula that is used for multiple purposes. Many laboratory scientists have experimented with a complicated and expensive, relative to my resources anyway; set of scientific parameters that constitute so-called legitimate scientific research. However, as the nineteen eighties ended and gave birth to the nineties; a friend of mine and myself, were forced against out wills, to do our own experiments, and take my word for it when I say, it beat the living shit out of any laboratory experiment that has been unclassified and known of by me. There are numerous ways that the human brain can play in the worlds of the QUANTA SYSTEMS, but be warned, as with all things not fully understood, shit happens, side effects, unspeakable reality manifests, and it truly is a Donna Summer one way door that goes way beyond the earliest morning light of Alaskan Junes. Just as atoms have chain reactions, and domino's fall into each other, you need to picture two dudes figuring out how to play a game where it starts with regular sized domino's, only they get more sizable and heavier every so many, say an increase for example picked at pure random, of 5% increase every 30 or 40 blocks. Now this will not seem like a real effect when you dwell on 100 or 1000 or whatever, but starting at our residence in South Jersey, or Eastern Philadelphia, by the time they would reach the skyline of say, New York City, they would be like Empire State Building's falling down onto each other and literally with sufficient force to knock the entire city down. But without continuing on with this, keep in mind that even a broke bum on a ghetto street, can yell “FUCK YOU” at somebody. The trick is what is going to happen after that by approximate nature, or can this approximate nature become interfered with, and with a spiraling domino effect. We found out, it indeed can. We also learned a bigger secret than this, and that would be that everything is in a cycle, and this truth can be used to harness an unmeasured energy in the present times. I only use the word energy as in its scientific terminology, E divided by T is P. ENERGY divided by TIME, equals POWER, and power is measured as work. An amount of weight lifted, or a total amount of weight moved, etcetera. Energy is measured in 'ERGS' however, not in events. This is way to complex to blog about on an internet. Let me continue, and simplify; as best as is possible. We were not trying to produce work-energy or ERGS, but EVENT-ENERGY, that cannot as yet in non-quantum status, be any kind of known measurable item. When I spoke of parlor tricks and magic, along the lines of Carnival games and shows and Vegas Magic Acts, this is indeed a powerful kind of energy. It can be quantified as the power of illusion. Just as enough electricity can electrocute and kill a person, enough illusion can kill, or cause injury, or any one of a million possibilities. On top of that, the power of illusion or reality-mirage (RM), can be merged with other energies, and I am speaking more of the unmeasurable types, all though anything can be done.
Yes, I altered the events of the entire Planet Earth, and this is no science fiction thriller work here. This is the blog, and the true words, of an admission of guilt; to a crime for which in 2011, there is no legal ability, for any law enforcement agency that I am aware of anyway, to legally prosecute me in any known atomic plus sized court of law. Before I go further on however, I did not wake up one day and decide to do experiments in world of the quantum, n or am I some evil Frankenstein fucking monster. There are many rumors floating around about me, the biggest one is that I am a huge nut, and to which I simply retort, there is a chapter in a best seller book, that tells how indeed I appear as a nut, as this was predetermined by powerful forces all ready established in the worlds of the quantum, and I speak of the BLUEBOOK.
Moving back for now, to the wild “DREAM” where it was my 32nd birthday again, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USAESMWG; we can return, and will most definitely return, I'll assure you my readers, to this quantum topic, but for now, I was talking about the neighbors from the south end yard, being my good friends over in this other universe, somewhere in the vast hyperspace. The neighbor, was Selena Dada, who I have mentioned in many blogs. She owned a rooming-house in this universe, on Stenton Place, in South-Central Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, back in the nineteen-seventies. She had fallen in love with the audio speakers that I had built, and over there, not only did I have the ones that I had here at that time, but I had built a really strange pair that were like no others, and had just applied for a patent on them. She was offering me millions of dollars for them, and I was laughing and told her I would build her a pair for cost, and that would be 600 bucks. She told me that because I was so nice and not charging what she wanted to offer me, that she was going to tell me that the ghost of JH that appeared to me in 1974 on the beach near the Atlantic City Central Pier, 'as he did in this universe where I am typing this, only she did not say that', had been a parlor trick. I asked her to tell me more, and she sat down on a bright orange loveseat, that I never owned over here in this universe 25 years ago by the way; and she looked at me with soft eyes, and spoke in a softer voice than before, and told me to remember how she had made a big deal about my shoes back in 1974. I told her that I remembered it well. She then told me that my shoes were magical, and that just as with the mythical 'Dorothy' , and the mythical 'Wizard of Oz' movie; I never knew that those shoes were magical, and then it hit me in the DREAM, and listen super carefully peeps, this is quite huge. These shoes never got old, I remembered that totally. I kept them since they were purchased in 1973 while going to the PCI computer school at the Cherry Hill Mall, at the One Cherry Hill Building, Suite 400, operated by Pete Hasse of WFIL-AM Radio in Philly, along with a mobster named Tedesco, who indeed knew James Hoffa, and other Sicilian Club Members. Selena Dada told me to ask my shoes a question, any question, quote, end of quote. I did. I asked why the word MI got onto the master open reel tape of the song I had done a few months back, and copyrighted, called, “Real good girl”. The shoes answered me back, in my own voice. They were one monotone sound of my exact voice, and they spoke just as tad louder than normal conversation, but not at a shouting level. The answer was, The sound on the tape is known in the future as a quantum fitting. I thought the shoes were mocking me, and they gave me sillier answers as I persisted on with the MI-MYSTERY. They insisted there was no knock on the door, no Propophol spray in the face, or anything weird at all, merely that what needed to go on the tape, became observed onto it. Selena interrupted the agitated conversation between my shoes and myself, suddenly, and she said to me, her friend is a Quantum Physicist, and he talked at length with her on the subject, and she went on to explain many things to me. This will be topic for a future blog. It seems that I was in a small hypnotic trance when hearing keywords or suggestions, ever since 1969 when the great PK had her way with me on Fireworks Night, under the boardwalk. She had told me earlier before she forced me to have sex with her, that she had many friends in the world of education. She told me that she would do me a favor in return for giving her a Huntington Daughter, and relinquishing any hold or rights on her. I asked her what this quid pro quo would be, putting it of course in the language of a fourteen and a half year old boy. She said that I would receive a high school diploma without ever attending a high school, and also, that she would be monitoring me for the rest of my life to make sure that I am all right, but I can never ever see my future daughter. If I ever broke my promise, the full weight of the Empire State Building in NYC would come down on me until the day that I die. On the 15th day of August at just past ten at night, in 1986, this is exactly what happened. But more than that happened, said Selena, in this powerful ass dream a few nights back. She said that if I ever saw her, it would begin right away, and then I would see her seven years later, with no memory of the event, and that more horrendous nightmares would come to me down the road a result, through the unremembered encounter, than could be fathomed. Also, it would lead to my Pandora Box, a flooding of memories that would invoke a family reunion that would cause me to lose everything I have in the world. When I awoke from this powerful interaction, I now am seriously wondering if I have a daughter by the name of Leticia Tilley, and three grandchildren. In any event, I never a chance to say what I was supposed to say at the Harvest. Why have you wiped me out so badly, my lovely Paula King, AKA, ~~~~~~~~~~~?
Major Saturday strings of hell, finally broke. I did have one fire alarm, there never is a weekend without at least one. Still, this weekend has been a tad bit quieter. Selena Dada may have died for all I know, I think Colorado John did, and that is why the vivid interaction happened with him back around the time my blogs were new, and I was still living in my trailer, in Mullica Township. Still, what she said about the great building in NYC, caused me to do my three videos again, only differently this time, up on the U-TUBE. In order to view them, you would go to U-Tube. Then they are titled under artist MARK MOHR, either WANNA' SPEND MY TIME, DON'T HIDE NINA, and MI APOLOGY SONG. No one goes up to my sites, they never have. It is all a parlor trick. I found out that it is against the U-Tube policy, so I wonder how other people get thousands and millions of hits, and I get none. Is this a real reality, or part of Selena and Paula's Quantum Punishment of the HUNTINGTON CURSE, but not in reverse? Only the yellow sheets in Washington-13 have these answers, I'll bet. Oh well, the Quantum IS, and it waits for no one. It is and it isn't, and at the same time. It can produce infinite illusions, and makes all of us PAS entities participate in their game with no start and no stop, it always was and will be, an ongoing mirage, and no one is smart enough to get it. If the government really was so smart and had a clue, they wouldn't be poking around all through my life, since I met you Patty, they do not know, but you do, and I know that. Happy driver license collections. Why not get together with Perkowski and trade comic books and ball cards with plastic identities? You know, roller skates, keys, chains, and BOBS. I am very sad that you did me this way PK. The only reason I broke my word in 1986, was because of what Selena said in the dream. They could not allow me to prosper and break the curse that you would be putting on me, so do you see how the casino round robin of time-squared Star Trek, caused this entire debokle in the first place? What will be, all ready was caused by what was. Is this fair? Please end the Huntington Curse, Patty. Thank you so much, and no hard feelings, sweet love.
END BLOG.
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0270
1:54 AM-EST, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2011
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
NO 4TH S.T.
BEGINNING BLOG:
This is a message to my government who loves and adores me so much, and could care less about my seventh grand pop, Sammy H. He and his pals only started this whole thing and won their independence from British Monarchy, and began the greatest experiment in history, the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. Don't mind me if I am in the way up here in the future, and breathing, and taking up your wonderful space.
Forgive me for being born. I am sorry my parents fucked and had me, Unk Sam, but that was a little bit beyond my control. Maybe I should have learned how to fly over the radar system before my dad yellow out, wheeeeeee, on one particular dark night somewhere in the first week of March, in 1954. So-sorry, Mister Ambassador, and Teddy.
Since you all despise my living guts so much, you will be happy to know that I will be out of your wonderful EMPIRE and in a very dangerous location, before too long, so you can have your GOOD-RIDDANCE PARTY, very shortly. Maybe I'll be shot and killed. We all know that this will be a meaningless event. Having a little bit of information is extremely deadly dangerous, this is an old lesson, taught to nearly every child, by nearly every parent, the world around and practically forever. My lack of knowledge that I played a forbidden game with, was the world of the Quantum. This is a world that is completely unforgiving, there are no crosses, saviors to die for sins, or any other atomic plus sized world mumbo-jumbo. Things like this can work there, but simply not in the 'places' where I have played in however.
I will tell the wonderful and omnipotent government of mine now, some of the true story; that may, or may not, have ever been officially blogged; in my more than six years of these blogs.
On several occasions, you have tapped my telephone, entered my premises with FISA Warrants, as I came to learn from my indirect EW friends, financed through perhaps the cousins of old 1965 pal, Alan J. Wolf, of Princeton, NJ. You learned nothing, because there is nothing to learn. I am not keeping any secrets from you. To your surprise, most of the peeps you watch and follow, would gladly, as I would, give their eye teeth to work with you in a collaborated effort, to find out just why we have been chosen to be on the receiving end of some kind of something, that we do not totally or even barely partially understand. Let me speak for myself, as I only really have the right to do. I would sell my soul to the devil, or whatever the reality equivalent to that nonsense is, to work with you on my problem. You know it is real, don't try and mother fucking bullshit me for a second, all though of course you will. I would love to have all of this stopped, as you would love to not have the worry of my abilities to damage your precious empire and capitalism out of control. Still, this seemingly endless stalemate fight between us rages on, and will, because you don't have the stones to stop this and work with me, against these quantum forces. You know I am not a nut. You know it is all real a million times better than I do, and this is why you closed the books. This is why I faced the unfathomable brick wall of AT&T in 1983. This is why I had the fucking brainpower to use your Copyright Office, to at least keep some kind of record and proof that I lived here on this Earth, and indeed suffered through these inconceivable and monstrous woes. If I knew a better way, I would not have bothered the Library of Congress with tons of garbage, over the past 36 years since 1975. If you think I will ever forget the many ugly details, of my moving from 1802 Robin Hill apartments in Voorhees, NJUSAESMWG, into 134 Norris Avenue in Atco, NJUSAESMWG, on the 1st day of February of 1983, you are sadly-Carrie unforgettably mistaken. The entire EW is also in for a rude awakening, if they think what they have done to me since the early eighties, will go unpunished. The evil that you have done, magically has gone 180 degrees, and has now revealed, and goes on revealing; no matter how you may now try and avoid it; all the truths in my entire miserable hell ridden life.
I am going to tell the powers that be in this world, my powerful recent interaction, somewhere in hyperspace. A number of days ago, I retired to bed around 1 or so in the morning, and fell into an instant weird as shit sleep. Strange noises were all around me, in my room, but not. Then I was back in 1986, in Cherry Hill, NJUSAESMWG. Suddenly, I go up and realized the calendar showed the time as December in 1986, a quarter of a fucking century ago. It was my birthday, the 4th, coming up shortly. My mother was an entirely different person, so I was not in a localized hyperspace, but more distant. I hated my neighbors, what else is new?, in the reality that I remember now in waking present 2011 life, but over there, I had made friends with them, the ass holes from the next yard to the south of Richard Barf Karpf's home at 1931 Marlton Pike, one and the same thing as Route #70. Blog 0270 seems appropriate for all this to be happening. The Wolf clan would say this is purely unintentional and coincidental, but I know it is always a little more than that, because I understand the Quantum worlds where everything that we think we are, is all inside of. Simply put peeps, there are two powerful secrets in this living world of the non-dead folks, one may be talked about on science channels, not both. It goes like this. Nothing is the same if event A is observed, or not observed. The observation of the event-A is part of the event-A. It literally is one thing if observed, and if ignored by all of the 6th dimension, it then becomes the event, with the difference of the inclusion of a variation. Said in another way, observed it is an apple pie, and ignored, it is an apple pie in a state of quantum flux, where it can become observed as the pie, or ignored and re-observed, as the same energy of this pie, but in a totally different form, still equal to E=MC-SQ, however, this goes beyond that formula that is used for multiple purposes. Many laboratory scientists have experimented with a complicated and expensive, relative to my resources anyway; set of scientific parameters that constitute so-called legitimate scientific research. However, as the nineteen eighties ended and gave birth to the nineties; a friend of mine and myself, were forced against out wills, to do our own experiments, and take my word for it when I say, it beat the living shit out of any laboratory experiment that has been unclassified and known of by me. There are numerous ways that the human brain can play in the worlds of the QUANTA SYSTEMS, but be warned, as with all things not fully understood, shit happens, side effects, unspeakable reality manifests, and it truly is a Donna Summer one way door that goes way beyond the earliest morning light of Alaskan Junes. Just as atoms have chain reactions, and domino's fall into each other, you need to picture two dudes figuring out how to play a game where it starts with regular sized domino's, only they get more sizable and heavier every so many, say an increase for example picked at pure random, of 5% increase every 30 or 40 blocks. Now this will not seem like a real effect when you dwell on 100 or 1000 or whatever, but starting at our residence in South Jersey, or Eastern Philadelphia, by the time they would reach the skyline of say, New York City, they would be like Empire State Building's falling down onto each other and literally with sufficient force to knock the entire city down. But without continuing on with this, keep in mind that even a broke bum on a ghetto street, can yell “FUCK YOU” at somebody. The trick is what is going to happen after that by approximate nature, or can this approximate nature become interfered with, and with a spiraling domino effect. We found out, it indeed can. We also learned a bigger secret than this, and that would be that everything is in a cycle, and this truth can be used to harness an unmeasured energy in the present times. I only use the word energy as in its scientific terminology, E divided by T is P. ENERGY divided by TIME, equals POWER, and power is measured as work. An amount of weight lifted, or a total amount of weight moved, etcetera. Energy is measured in 'ERGS' however, not in events. This is way to complex to blog about on an internet. Let me continue, and simplify; as best as is possible. We were not trying to produce work-energy or ERGS, but EVENT-ENERGY, that cannot as yet in non-quantum status, be any kind of known measurable item. When I spoke of parlor tricks and magic, along the lines of Carnival games and shows and Vegas Magic Acts, this is indeed a powerful kind of energy. It can be quantified as the power of illusion. Just as enough electricity can electrocute and kill a person, enough illusion can kill, or cause injury, or any one of a million possibilities. On top of that, the power of illusion or reality-mirage (RM), can be merged with other energies, and I am speaking more of the unmeasurable types, all though anything can be done.
Yes, I altered the events of the entire Planet Earth, and this is no science fiction thriller work here. This is the blog, and the true words, of an admission of guilt; to a crime for which in 2011, there is no legal ability, for any law enforcement agency that I am aware of anyway, to legally prosecute me in any known atomic plus sized court of law. Before I go further on however, I did not wake up one day and decide to do experiments in world of the quantum, n or am I some evil Frankenstein fucking monster. There are many rumors floating around about me, the biggest one is that I am a huge nut, and to which I simply retort, there is a chapter in a best seller book, that tells how indeed I appear as a nut, as this was predetermined by powerful forces all ready established in the worlds of the quantum, and I speak of the BLUEBOOK.
Moving back for now, to the wild “DREAM” where it was my 32nd birthday again, in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, USAESMWG; we can return, and will most definitely return, I'll assure you my readers, to this quantum topic, but for now, I was talking about the neighbors from the south end yard, being my good friends over in this other universe, somewhere in the vast hyperspace. The neighbor, was Selena Dada, who I have mentioned in many blogs. She owned a rooming-house in this universe, on Stenton Place, in South-Central Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, back in the nineteen-seventies. She had fallen in love with the audio speakers that I had built, and over there, not only did I have the ones that I had here at that time, but I had built a really strange pair that were like no others, and had just applied for a patent on them. She was offering me millions of dollars for them, and I was laughing and told her I would build her a pair for cost, and that would be 600 bucks. She told me that because I was so nice and not charging what she wanted to offer me, that she was going to tell me that the ghost of JH that appeared to me in 1974 on the beach near the Atlantic City Central Pier, 'as he did in this universe where I am typing this, only she did not say that', had been a parlor trick. I asked her to tell me more, and she sat down on a bright orange loveseat, that I never owned over here in this universe 25 years ago by the way; and she looked at me with soft eyes, and spoke in a softer voice than before, and told me to remember how she had made a big deal about my shoes back in 1974. I told her that I remembered it well. She then told me that my shoes were magical, and that just as with the mythical 'Dorothy' , and the mythical 'Wizard of Oz' movie; I never knew that those shoes were magical, and then it hit me in the DREAM, and listen super carefully peeps, this is quite huge. These shoes never got old, I remembered that totally. I kept them since they were purchased in 1973 while going to the PCI computer school at the Cherry Hill Mall, at the One Cherry Hill Building, Suite 400, operated by Pete Hasse of WFIL-AM Radio in Philly, along with a mobster named Tedesco, who indeed knew James Hoffa, and other Sicilian Club Members. Selena Dada told me to ask my shoes a question, any question, quote, end of quote. I did. I asked why the word MI got onto the master open reel tape of the song I had done a few months back, and copyrighted, called, “Real good girl”. The shoes answered me back, in my own voice. They were one monotone sound of my exact voice, and they spoke just as tad louder than normal conversation, but not at a shouting level. The answer was, The sound on the tape is known in the future as a quantum fitting. I thought the shoes were mocking me, and they gave me sillier answers as I persisted on with the MI-MYSTERY. They insisted there was no knock on the door, no Propophol spray in the face, or anything weird at all, merely that what needed to go on the tape, became observed onto it. Selena interrupted the agitated conversation between my shoes and myself, suddenly, and she said to me, her friend is a Quantum Physicist, and he talked at length with her on the subject, and she went on to explain many things to me. This will be topic for a future blog. It seems that I was in a small hypnotic trance when hearing keywords or suggestions, ever since 1969 when the great PK had her way with me on Fireworks Night, under the boardwalk. She had told me earlier before she forced me to have sex with her, that she had many friends in the world of education. She told me that she would do me a favor in return for giving her a Huntington Daughter, and relinquishing any hold or rights on her. I asked her what this quid pro quo would be, putting it of course in the language of a fourteen and a half year old boy. She said that I would receive a high school diploma without ever attending a high school, and also, that she would be monitoring me for the rest of my life to make sure that I am all right, but I can never ever see my future daughter. If I ever broke my promise, the full weight of the Empire State Building in NYC would come down on me until the day that I die. On the 15th day of August at just past ten at night, in 1986, this is exactly what happened. But more than that happened, said Selena, in this powerful ass dream a few nights back. She said that if I ever saw her, it would begin right away, and then I would see her seven years later, with no memory of the event, and that more horrendous nightmares would come to me down the road a result, through the unremembered encounter, than could be fathomed. Also, it would lead to my Pandora Box, a flooding of memories that would invoke a family reunion that would cause me to lose everything I have in the world. When I awoke from this powerful interaction, I now am seriously wondering if I have a daughter by the name of Leticia Tilley, and three grandchildren. In any event, I never a chance to say what I was supposed to say at the Harvest. Why have you wiped me out so badly, my lovely Paula King, AKA, ~~~~~~~~~~~?
Major Saturday strings of hell, finally broke. I did have one fire alarm, there never is a weekend without at least one. Still, this weekend has been a tad bit quieter. Selena Dada may have died for all I know, I think Colorado John did, and that is why the vivid interaction happened with him back around the time my blogs were new, and I was still living in my trailer, in Mullica Township. Still, what she said about the great building in NYC, caused me to do my three videos again, only differently this time, up on the U-TUBE. In order to view them, you would go to U-Tube. Then they are titled under artist MARK MOHR, either WANNA' SPEND MY TIME, DON'T HIDE NINA, and MI APOLOGY SONG. No one goes up to my sites, they never have. It is all a parlor trick. I found out that it is against the U-Tube policy, so I wonder how other people get thousands and millions of hits, and I get none. Is this a real reality, or part of Selena and Paula's Quantum Punishment of the HUNTINGTON CURSE, but not in reverse? Only the yellow sheets in Washington-13 have these answers, I'll bet. Oh well, the Quantum IS, and it waits for no one. It is and it isn't, and at the same time. It can produce infinite illusions, and makes all of us PAS entities participate in their game with no start and no stop, it always was and will be, an ongoing mirage, and no one is smart enough to get it. If the government really was so smart and had a clue, they wouldn't be poking around all through my life, since I met you Patty, they do not know, but you do, and I know that. Happy driver license collections. Why not get together with Perkowski and trade comic books and ball cards with plastic identities? You know, roller skates, keys, chains, and BOBS. I am very sad that you did me this way PK. The only reason I broke my word in 1986, was because of what Selena said in the dream. They could not allow me to prosper and break the curse that you would be putting on me, so do you see how the casino round robin of time-squared Star Trek, caused this entire debokle in the first place? What will be, all ready was caused by what was. Is this fair? Please end the Huntington Curse, Patty. Thank you so much, and no hard feelings, sweet love.
END BLOG.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0269
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0269
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THE SECRETS OF THE LIGHT REVEALED, BLUEBOOK HEWITT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
© 2006-2011----WORLD LABORATORIES, PROJECT MORIANITY
BEGINNING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
I am under a super THANKS-2-GIVENS normal calendar cycle death siege straight from mother fucking hell. This blog will be short and sweet. It is the afternoon of the week before Thanksgiving, on this 17th day in this BOTBAR-11-MONTH, AKA-November, in 2011.
FIRST OFF, I AM BEING HIT HARD. THERE IS PROPERTY DAMAGE INVOLVED, WHICH EVEN THE GREATEST FEMALE RA ON THIS PLANET IDENTIFIES WITH PERSONALLY, AND KNOWS IT IS NOT IMAGINED; ALSO THERE IS NEIGHBORHOOD ATTACK, HEALTH ATTACK, AND MAJOR CHEMTRAILING ONGOING OUTSIDE, LOOK UP THWE TOPIC OF “CHEMTRAIL” ON U-TUBE, OR ANYWHERE ON THE ENTIRE GOOGLE SYSTEM, FOR THAT MATTER.
I woke up out of a wild mother fucking DREAMING-INTERACTION-EXPERIENCE, and instantly, when I tried to watch television, nothing worked, everything seemed dead, this lasted for 5-10 minutes, then I shut it all down, calmly waited a few minutes, restarted everything, and it was just as if nothing had been mother fucking ass wrong in the first mother fucking constitutional rights violated place, Supreme court Justices, IN CASE YOU MIGHT CARE, DUDES AND DUDDESSES. I need your dam help old school pal from Haddonfield, New Jersey, and overseer of the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION.
Earlier in the day I woke up quite rudely to my nutty ass neighbors that love to scream and shout out in the hallways for all to hear and be bothered by. They seem to be fruit basket cases, but I also know this entire thing, here at the building, at work at the HARVEST, and all over the fucking place such as my wild experiences at the TD BANK, or the BEACH over at Hutchinson Island, in the past, all of this and so much mother fucking more, is all coming from and directed by, the EVIL-WOMO. GOOGLE UP CHEMTRAILS. GOOGLE UP GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY AND COVER UP, PROJECT BLUEBOOK AND UFO, ALIEN ABDUCTION, and many great topics, and you just might learn some fucking shit. First, there are no aliens or ships from outer space or anything like this at all, not in 'reality'. You can create all this in your mind, and reverse the normal process of the eye transmitting to the mind, and thus, there are infinite Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities, right hubby Darren?
It is obvious to a mentally challenged or a mentally ill person, let alone a 'normal' person, which is a subjective standard and rating system, by whoever decided to be in charge of just what normal really is; that my blog that I posted onto the great internet earlier this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning,was by no means appreciated, by SOME ONE OR SOME THING, CA[PTAIN SHATNER, WITH GREAT POWER, as it sure wasted no time to exact its major fucking revenge on me for posting it. I still contend that this wonderful THAT-FAMILY from the 1970 nightmares, all scum-bagged out on me, whether 'they' want me posting this or not, and UI really could care less what this evil bunch of lighters does or does not want, at this point in time, Senator.
As for great Hollywood productions, shows of sci-fi coming into their own as the 20th century worked its way closer and closer towards this one; there was a great writer that most of you know of, and the Lambrigger Cult here in human form AKA as the EW (Entertainment World), knows and adores this dude, Mister Dick, I call him MIDI-DROID for my own little code, still, he knew majoer things, and he knew it was not all totally so much limited to the world of fiction-only. He had personal experiences, and one of them, that repeated upon several occasions in his life, and literally saving the life of his small child, as a result of one of these said experiences, with a beautiful pink-colored brilliant light. Bright light that tends to move into varying frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum and thus causing it to be seen and observed in multiple colors, or in some cases as one non-white color, is not limited to the Jennifer Love Hewitt Ghost Whisperer Show, or ghosts in general, yet it can be connected. Due to many unknown complexities in the realities and worlds of the sub-atomic, in our dark age dinosaur year of 2011, next to say 100 years from now; nothing is as constant as the great Einsteins Light velocity or “C”. Keeping this all simple and thus more easily readable, let me tell you how this great “LIGHT”, has interacted with me; and then tie all of this into what the great PROJECT BLUEBOOK, decided in their mighty infinite wisdom through the omnipotent UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND GOVERNMENT; what I have decided to term and name and label, the RLR. This can stand for Relative-Light-Reality. It is a fancy way of saying that there are not a lot of textbook rules and laws written in stone, such as gravitation, or forbidden man-made taboo legislation's resulting from any intentional cover-ups. Before I tackle the herculean task of over simplifying and abridging monstrous sized potential text and college degree sized information here, let me start by saying merely this, my peeps. Nothing at all is even close to the way you now believe that it is, I PROMISE YOU THAT. As both my special kids know only too well, all I am ever seeking after, personally, is the truth and if I can come close to reaching some of it, then alagazam, fanfreakingtastic and marvfab; but whether we all like or hate, or place anywhere in the middle; any particular 'reality' and 'truth', as these are 'really' the same two words, only spelled differently; take it away from us and let us keep all else, or even give the entire state of Nevada to someone, deed and title, but take away forever, their truth and their reality, they have been made to suffer a cosmic loss that has no way of being described with these limited words that I can type in combination with this keyboard, though hard and long I may persevere. What little reality that all of us find, needs to be mother fucking treasured and locked away in our cosmic safes, and guarded by 5,000 armies, each as powerful as the troops protecting America's Fort Knox. Underestimate these words at your own doing and doom, because if any blog ever written and posted by me, mountainpen, was attempting to help humanity, it is this one, and it these few words. Now for the great light of Jenny Hewitt, and MIDI SCIFI, and me,. And so many others, despite the 'Blue-Book' and their relentless attempts to keep these truths away from the common folk, or for those of us not smart enough, to fuck up our country, and government; the way our genius Military, and Washington Politicians have done, for so long, and so dam well. Give me a break at the speed of light squared, or at about 34.7 billion miles per second.
I am going to keep this ultra simple and ultra shortened and compressed. Many have seen this “LIGHT”. This light comes in many forms. My interactions with it began after I followed a small toddler that convinced me in some unfathomable way, up in Suffolk County, New York one day early in the nineteen-seventies, to follow her through an accessible area in a yard fence, into a home, and into a strange and brilliantly lit up corridor that was directly off of a larger area or room, with a man standing outside of it, who I later went onto meet at a Health club in the year 1995, called Haddonwood. This child was later to grow up to be, the great Mariah Carey, who we all know so well, and adore her heavenly voice. By the way MC, your twins are absolutely adorable, and hopefully not quite as rambunctious as you were. In any case, we both know that distant cousins of yours did some really unspeakable things to me, and it is far from completely unfolding yet, but that is my concern and worry, not yours. I understand and respect that, MC. What I want is for you to someday explain why you did what YOU did, I know that your distant's are not your concern, and I never meant to burden you with any of that. That never was my intention. All I am seeking after, is the truth; and do not care if even you believe this or not, brown-eyes. Moving on now with when you were very small, you were holding this 'thing' in one of your hands, and it was a strobing bright light that was extremely bright, and the majority of its colors were blinding pink, purple, and white. You were doing everything you could to show me this light, you wanted me to see both it and that you were in control of it, yet all the while, carefully watching out for Colaman out in the larger area, who did eventually catch you showing this to me, and came over and then he hit you, and this upset me so badly, that to this day, I dream of busting his lip, I will not lie to you. One year or maybe two years later, my mother had a co-worker at her office who gave her some information like nothing I had ever seen, and to be totally honest, like nothing I have ever seen even to this very day, decades later. It caused me to investigate and learn something called the Fascitar, and later on as a result of this; I saw the light again. After my teen years ended, I saw this light upon many occasions, after being electrocuted in 1977 at the Carriage Lamp Apartments on the White Horse Pike, in SPR-headquartered, Clementon, New Jersey, and every subsequent time where I intentionally moved from the physical word, over to the Astral-Plane. This light is a trick of the memory. There is no simple way to tell this monster ass secret to the world. The light is the precursor of the truth that we all are all ready experiencing. The time in 1997, twenty years after I stuck a walkie-talkie antenna directly into a 220-volt air conditioner outlet, that will be cited here in an illustrated example that makes my point and attempts to better place this idea into usable text. Unlike when I was electrocuted in 1977 by holding a metallic walkie-talkie, and sticking the antenna into a 220 volt socket, this time, I awoke in the middle of the night, with a waking freeze. Simpler put, I woke up while still in dream-state, a dual or bi-located state of the brain, not at all understood by the present-day psychiatric profession, but who am I to sit here typing these bruising ego words, as this is not my intent, to offend, or turn off readers, I need their attention and willingness to accept my knowledge as real and not deluded fantasy.
Let me tell the story of this light, as it may be remembered slightly differently with each individual separate experience, and by each individual human being having this experience while here in this waking human life and realm of their existence. It was 1977, I was out of my mind, admittedly, I was completely insane. I was desperate to locate a person from my past, the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, who I went on to learn is and always was and will be, the All Mighty Jehovah Scylla Goddess of all of creation, HER CREATION. I could say really mind blowing stuff here, and this would only serve to defeat my purpose, I am trying to keep things toned down and dialed back, and hold onto a few readers, if I am lucky. Suddenly when this waking freeze hit me, I felt my breath and heartbeat stop. I had a loud fan in the room blowing nice cool air on me, and a small night light plugged in across the room, as a week before that, I tripped and stubbed my toe while trying to find the light-switch so I could get up and get something to drink. When my life ended by the standards of neurosurgeons, and other med-experts; it was a quitet peaceful lovely experience. The fan went silent, the room went pitch dark, there was nothingness, void, I wanted to hold onto this void and stay there, and I remained for quite a while. Suddenly I thought to myself, maybe now in this state, I can find my SARAH. I thought about HER, HER lovely city of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, (HEAVEN), and a few other quick thoughts, and within what seemed like 5 or maybe 10 seconds tops, boom, a blinding brilliant all encompassing light was one and the same thing with my thoughts or “ME”, and then in another 2 or 3 seconds, I WAS IN THIS CITY, this indescribable city, and SHE was right there with me, her long beautiful hair shinning down from more than six and a half feet of HER great height, and then I came to see that it was HER hair that was the entire light, the entire city, all of it. Moses supposedly experienced a similar deal with his burning bush, on top of the Zion Mountain, which the cosmos as a result, named both a mountain, and later a great project, and a great goddess in a human form, and merged it all together. Thus these words have all been penned, a mountain of truth, a project named MORIANITY, and all the while, never realizing that connections were all there to begin with, just as the interactions are all there and are merely this incredible light. Whether it be a so called 'real' or a computer generated 'virtual' reality, the same experience takes place, if the brain is measured. This was explained quite well on the science channel last night, on my Fort Pierce, Florida Comcast Cable Lineup, it is channel-#110.
Other following blogs will explore way more about Haddonwood, the light, and the strange man from Washington, DC who came over in 1995, to visit me there. Nothing just happens, it is all connected into itself, and it is all this mind blowing LIGHT, that is all anything really ever was or can be for that matter. Biblical accounts discuss void darkness, and then Jehovah-Scylla speaking the words, “LET THERE BE LIGHT”. Then in the wisdom of man, a United States Air Force, said one day, “LET THERE BE BLUEBOOK”, no more talking about this great light, or this wonderful special creator GODDESS, SSJK. Well, guess what, I have not begun, KAREN, top blow the lid off of all of this, as you won't leave me alone, so fine, I will make it my absolute mission statement and business, to end the way of life that all of you capitalist pigs ate perpetuating and perpetrating your evil mischievousness on us little 99-ers.
Haddonwood, Colaman, and Gerard Stiles are not gone, nor were they ever here. The sub atomic truth is way too big to try and tackle on this little blog today, folks, so sorry, Ambassador Bomb of December 7th of 1941, keep the volume down on my song, © Office, I do not want to have to pay for new audio monitors for you, at level 4, level 6, or even 46-46-46-46.
END TRANSMISSION.
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THE SECRETS OF THE LIGHT REVEALED, BLUEBOOK HEWITT”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN
© 2006-2011----WORLD LABORATORIES, PROJECT MORIANITY
BEGINNING OF THIS TRANSMISSION:
I am under a super THANKS-2-GIVENS normal calendar cycle death siege straight from mother fucking hell. This blog will be short and sweet. It is the afternoon of the week before Thanksgiving, on this 17th day in this BOTBAR-11-MONTH, AKA-November, in 2011.
FIRST OFF, I AM BEING HIT HARD. THERE IS PROPERTY DAMAGE INVOLVED, WHICH EVEN THE GREATEST FEMALE RA ON THIS PLANET IDENTIFIES WITH PERSONALLY, AND KNOWS IT IS NOT IMAGINED; ALSO THERE IS NEIGHBORHOOD ATTACK, HEALTH ATTACK, AND MAJOR CHEMTRAILING ONGOING OUTSIDE, LOOK UP THWE TOPIC OF “CHEMTRAIL” ON U-TUBE, OR ANYWHERE ON THE ENTIRE GOOGLE SYSTEM, FOR THAT MATTER.
I woke up out of a wild mother fucking DREAMING-INTERACTION-EXPERIENCE, and instantly, when I tried to watch television, nothing worked, everything seemed dead, this lasted for 5-10 minutes, then I shut it all down, calmly waited a few minutes, restarted everything, and it was just as if nothing had been mother fucking ass wrong in the first mother fucking constitutional rights violated place, Supreme court Justices, IN CASE YOU MIGHT CARE, DUDES AND DUDDESSES. I need your dam help old school pal from Haddonfield, New Jersey, and overseer of the FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION.
Earlier in the day I woke up quite rudely to my nutty ass neighbors that love to scream and shout out in the hallways for all to hear and be bothered by. They seem to be fruit basket cases, but I also know this entire thing, here at the building, at work at the HARVEST, and all over the fucking place such as my wild experiences at the TD BANK, or the BEACH over at Hutchinson Island, in the past, all of this and so much mother fucking more, is all coming from and directed by, the EVIL-WOMO. GOOGLE UP CHEMTRAILS. GOOGLE UP GOVERNMENT CONSPIRACY AND COVER UP, PROJECT BLUEBOOK AND UFO, ALIEN ABDUCTION, and many great topics, and you just might learn some fucking shit. First, there are no aliens or ships from outer space or anything like this at all, not in 'reality'. You can create all this in your mind, and reverse the normal process of the eye transmitting to the mind, and thus, there are infinite Elizabeth Montgomery possibilities, right hubby Darren?
It is obvious to a mentally challenged or a mentally ill person, let alone a 'normal' person, which is a subjective standard and rating system, by whoever decided to be in charge of just what normal really is; that my blog that I posted onto the great internet earlier this moUUUUUUUUUUUUrning,was by no means appreciated, by SOME ONE OR SOME THING, CA[PTAIN SHATNER, WITH GREAT POWER, as it sure wasted no time to exact its major fucking revenge on me for posting it. I still contend that this wonderful THAT-FAMILY from the 1970 nightmares, all scum-bagged out on me, whether 'they' want me posting this or not, and UI really could care less what this evil bunch of lighters does or does not want, at this point in time, Senator.
As for great Hollywood productions, shows of sci-fi coming into their own as the 20th century worked its way closer and closer towards this one; there was a great writer that most of you know of, and the Lambrigger Cult here in human form AKA as the EW (Entertainment World), knows and adores this dude, Mister Dick, I call him MIDI-DROID for my own little code, still, he knew majoer things, and he knew it was not all totally so much limited to the world of fiction-only. He had personal experiences, and one of them, that repeated upon several occasions in his life, and literally saving the life of his small child, as a result of one of these said experiences, with a beautiful pink-colored brilliant light. Bright light that tends to move into varying frequencies of the electromagnetic spectrum and thus causing it to be seen and observed in multiple colors, or in some cases as one non-white color, is not limited to the Jennifer Love Hewitt Ghost Whisperer Show, or ghosts in general, yet it can be connected. Due to many unknown complexities in the realities and worlds of the sub-atomic, in our dark age dinosaur year of 2011, next to say 100 years from now; nothing is as constant as the great Einsteins Light velocity or “C”. Keeping this all simple and thus more easily readable, let me tell you how this great “LIGHT”, has interacted with me; and then tie all of this into what the great PROJECT BLUEBOOK, decided in their mighty infinite wisdom through the omnipotent UNITED STATES AIR FORCE AND GOVERNMENT; what I have decided to term and name and label, the RLR. This can stand for Relative-Light-Reality. It is a fancy way of saying that there are not a lot of textbook rules and laws written in stone, such as gravitation, or forbidden man-made taboo legislation's resulting from any intentional cover-ups. Before I tackle the herculean task of over simplifying and abridging monstrous sized potential text and college degree sized information here, let me start by saying merely this, my peeps. Nothing at all is even close to the way you now believe that it is, I PROMISE YOU THAT. As both my special kids know only too well, all I am ever seeking after, personally, is the truth and if I can come close to reaching some of it, then alagazam, fanfreakingtastic and marvfab; but whether we all like or hate, or place anywhere in the middle; any particular 'reality' and 'truth', as these are 'really' the same two words, only spelled differently; take it away from us and let us keep all else, or even give the entire state of Nevada to someone, deed and title, but take away forever, their truth and their reality, they have been made to suffer a cosmic loss that has no way of being described with these limited words that I can type in combination with this keyboard, though hard and long I may persevere. What little reality that all of us find, needs to be mother fucking treasured and locked away in our cosmic safes, and guarded by 5,000 armies, each as powerful as the troops protecting America's Fort Knox. Underestimate these words at your own doing and doom, because if any blog ever written and posted by me, mountainpen, was attempting to help humanity, it is this one, and it these few words. Now for the great light of Jenny Hewitt, and MIDI SCIFI, and me,. And so many others, despite the 'Blue-Book' and their relentless attempts to keep these truths away from the common folk, or for those of us not smart enough, to fuck up our country, and government; the way our genius Military, and Washington Politicians have done, for so long, and so dam well. Give me a break at the speed of light squared, or at about 34.7 billion miles per second.
I am going to keep this ultra simple and ultra shortened and compressed. Many have seen this “LIGHT”. This light comes in many forms. My interactions with it began after I followed a small toddler that convinced me in some unfathomable way, up in Suffolk County, New York one day early in the nineteen-seventies, to follow her through an accessible area in a yard fence, into a home, and into a strange and brilliantly lit up corridor that was directly off of a larger area or room, with a man standing outside of it, who I later went onto meet at a Health club in the year 1995, called Haddonwood. This child was later to grow up to be, the great Mariah Carey, who we all know so well, and adore her heavenly voice. By the way MC, your twins are absolutely adorable, and hopefully not quite as rambunctious as you were. In any case, we both know that distant cousins of yours did some really unspeakable things to me, and it is far from completely unfolding yet, but that is my concern and worry, not yours. I understand and respect that, MC. What I want is for you to someday explain why you did what YOU did, I know that your distant's are not your concern, and I never meant to burden you with any of that. That never was my intention. All I am seeking after, is the truth; and do not care if even you believe this or not, brown-eyes. Moving on now with when you were very small, you were holding this 'thing' in one of your hands, and it was a strobing bright light that was extremely bright, and the majority of its colors were blinding pink, purple, and white. You were doing everything you could to show me this light, you wanted me to see both it and that you were in control of it, yet all the while, carefully watching out for Colaman out in the larger area, who did eventually catch you showing this to me, and came over and then he hit you, and this upset me so badly, that to this day, I dream of busting his lip, I will not lie to you. One year or maybe two years later, my mother had a co-worker at her office who gave her some information like nothing I had ever seen, and to be totally honest, like nothing I have ever seen even to this very day, decades later. It caused me to investigate and learn something called the Fascitar, and later on as a result of this; I saw the light again. After my teen years ended, I saw this light upon many occasions, after being electrocuted in 1977 at the Carriage Lamp Apartments on the White Horse Pike, in SPR-headquartered, Clementon, New Jersey, and every subsequent time where I intentionally moved from the physical word, over to the Astral-Plane. This light is a trick of the memory. There is no simple way to tell this monster ass secret to the world. The light is the precursor of the truth that we all are all ready experiencing. The time in 1997, twenty years after I stuck a walkie-talkie antenna directly into a 220-volt air conditioner outlet, that will be cited here in an illustrated example that makes my point and attempts to better place this idea into usable text. Unlike when I was electrocuted in 1977 by holding a metallic walkie-talkie, and sticking the antenna into a 220 volt socket, this time, I awoke in the middle of the night, with a waking freeze. Simpler put, I woke up while still in dream-state, a dual or bi-located state of the brain, not at all understood by the present-day psychiatric profession, but who am I to sit here typing these bruising ego words, as this is not my intent, to offend, or turn off readers, I need their attention and willingness to accept my knowledge as real and not deluded fantasy.
Let me tell the story of this light, as it may be remembered slightly differently with each individual separate experience, and by each individual human being having this experience while here in this waking human life and realm of their existence. It was 1977, I was out of my mind, admittedly, I was completely insane. I was desperate to locate a person from my past, the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle, who I went on to learn is and always was and will be, the All Mighty Jehovah Scylla Goddess of all of creation, HER CREATION. I could say really mind blowing stuff here, and this would only serve to defeat my purpose, I am trying to keep things toned down and dialed back, and hold onto a few readers, if I am lucky. Suddenly when this waking freeze hit me, I felt my breath and heartbeat stop. I had a loud fan in the room blowing nice cool air on me, and a small night light plugged in across the room, as a week before that, I tripped and stubbed my toe while trying to find the light-switch so I could get up and get something to drink. When my life ended by the standards of neurosurgeons, and other med-experts; it was a quitet peaceful lovely experience. The fan went silent, the room went pitch dark, there was nothingness, void, I wanted to hold onto this void and stay there, and I remained for quite a while. Suddenly I thought to myself, maybe now in this state, I can find my SARAH. I thought about HER, HER lovely city of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, (HEAVEN), and a few other quick thoughts, and within what seemed like 5 or maybe 10 seconds tops, boom, a blinding brilliant all encompassing light was one and the same thing with my thoughts or “ME”, and then in another 2 or 3 seconds, I WAS IN THIS CITY, this indescribable city, and SHE was right there with me, her long beautiful hair shinning down from more than six and a half feet of HER great height, and then I came to see that it was HER hair that was the entire light, the entire city, all of it. Moses supposedly experienced a similar deal with his burning bush, on top of the Zion Mountain, which the cosmos as a result, named both a mountain, and later a great project, and a great goddess in a human form, and merged it all together. Thus these words have all been penned, a mountain of truth, a project named MORIANITY, and all the while, never realizing that connections were all there to begin with, just as the interactions are all there and are merely this incredible light. Whether it be a so called 'real' or a computer generated 'virtual' reality, the same experience takes place, if the brain is measured. This was explained quite well on the science channel last night, on my Fort Pierce, Florida Comcast Cable Lineup, it is channel-#110.
Other following blogs will explore way more about Haddonwood, the light, and the strange man from Washington, DC who came over in 1995, to visit me there. Nothing just happens, it is all connected into itself, and it is all this mind blowing LIGHT, that is all anything really ever was or can be for that matter. Biblical accounts discuss void darkness, and then Jehovah-Scylla speaking the words, “LET THERE BE LIGHT”. Then in the wisdom of man, a United States Air Force, said one day, “LET THERE BE BLUEBOOK”, no more talking about this great light, or this wonderful special creator GODDESS, SSJK. Well, guess what, I have not begun, KAREN, top blow the lid off of all of this, as you won't leave me alone, so fine, I will make it my absolute mission statement and business, to end the way of life that all of you capitalist pigs ate perpetuating and perpetrating your evil mischievousness on us little 99-ers.
Haddonwood, Colaman, and Gerard Stiles are not gone, nor were they ever here. The sub atomic truth is way too big to try and tackle on this little blog today, folks, so sorry, Ambassador Bomb of December 7th of 1941, keep the volume down on my song, © Office, I do not want to have to pay for new audio monitors for you, at level 4, level 6, or even 46-46-46-46.
END TRANSMISSION.
SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 0268
SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0268
2:07 AM-EST-THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2K11
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE: “TUESDAY SIEGE WAS BEYOND INCONCEIVABLE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN------(C) 2006-2011
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
THE LARGE LOUD MENACING CHOPPER THAT HAS BEEN ON ME, SINCE THE MIDDLE NINETEEN-EIGHTIES; WAS ALL OVER ME ON TUESDAY, LIKE FLIES ON A GARBAGE TRUCK, IN HOT ASS JULY.
I had tremendous aerial siege from numerous sky-crafts, and fire alarms waking me from sleep, as well as many other monstrous other death strikes from my enemy, the Milituforce, Otammites, also known as (AKA) MO. I had a major health attack from beams or poisons or however this is accomplished by the WOMO or the World-Owners-MO. I am never permitted to have anyone over at my residence, without suffering major siege from this dirt bag group of toilet bowl lapping sub-scum. I could go on and on with this, it is a huge reality, and the problem is simply that I am wasting my time, as nobody will believe me, nothing new at all, and of course, is what the WOMO totally counts on to keep them endlessly powerful, and relentlessly evil. On top of all of this, good old mother freaking hot ass Florida is real hot again, after a short couple of weeks of a cool down, as we always seem to get the 1969-New Jersey-Indian Summer, in this gods forsaken paradise. Weather peeps are predicting a possible record breaking afternoon high later on today, near 90.
Why the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle listened to my plea more than twelve-thousand years ago, about not wiping everything out; is a total enigma to me. Still, she did, and I thank HER for granting my plea as misguided as it was, as now; things are not quite the same between us. Still, some things never do change. Also I know what is real, and what is imagined. I also know that reality is as misunderstood by humankind in 2011, as germs and hand-washing was to the medical community back around three-hundred years ago. Still, I am speaking out to a world who will not listen or believe me on a conscious waking level, and I fully appreciate my dire and bleak circumstances, based on this unfortunate 'reality'. All of this being said, what no one alive understands in the dark ages of the 21st century, is the fact that there is a mental realm or a mind dimension, that sends a series of energetic signals onto an Astral-Plane, a sort of arena that could be visualized as a virtual reality being jacked into by the famous Lawn Mower Man, from the movie. From this realm, energy slowly is drained by interactions that exist totally independent of any space-time dimensions of 'reality', and after so many interactions, dream-downs, for lack of a better way of saying it, begin happening, and these energetic signals of pure mind that form Astral Entities, then move further downward into what can be termed, a 5th dimensional hyperspace, a series of unlimited 4-D parallel-universes, where these signals take on a waking human form, as us in this so-called here and now physical life. None of these words, or any others spoken, could ever hope to do justice to explaining all of this so that anyone is going to read it and be hit by Edison's light bulb and yell out, “WO, I got it, BRO”, and have a Selena Dada life altering experience as a result. Again, I know 'reality'. I accept 'reality'. Still, I will go on blogging, as a gambler goes on gambling, fully knowing they are throwing away their beloved family, their nice home, and their way of life. Also, just as Satan knew perfectly well, that he was cutting off his prick to burn his ass by sending Jesus Christ to die on the cross, but his emotions got the better of this great android/angel/ created being/whatever Congressman RA. You can fake it all you want, you, all of you, we all know what is going on, or what 'reality' is there, and who knows it better than the mighty Astral-Plane Lambrigger Cult along the Teck Bay?
One strange unexplainable event after another, continues to manifest around me, at work, at home, and all places that I am forced to go. If I ever told the entire story, and one percent of the world read it, and one percent of those that read it believed it; the entire Milky Way would become Lactose Intolerant and melt away into oblivion in the wink of an asshole hair.
The power of the Sixth Dimension, or the Mind Realm, is beyond any possible verbal description. All the words in Websters dictionary, scrambled into infinite combinations, would appear benign and ubiquitous in any attempt thereof to epitomize utter foolishness. All I can say is this, as the 'spirit leads' in any 'reality'. This MIND when it arrives in 4-D space-time universes, such as this one, but what one as when you read this, if you read this, whoever YO are, what sub-atomic changes have occurred in-between then, and me back in time typing this in my-now? Google is a prime example. It appears to read your mind, and do even things beyond that, you all know what I mean, the way you begin typing a Google-Search, and no longer need to even finish things or hit the enter key in many cases. Biological mind, or binary machine mind, is still MIND, and mind is from a realm called the 6th-Dimension, this is just truth, or AKA 'reality'. When an awake person has enemies from the Astral-Plane, and is aware of stuff, Arnie Kennedy; this becomes quite a lethal combination, as Mister Carter and his glaring eyes, knows only two dam well. I knew I was dead, and so did you, huh Jimmy? Do you think I will forget things like that or Goddesses singing LOIS FOCA songs to me, just because 15 or 30 little years of mortal time happens to tick tock away? Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.
Here is what you do in GAWNUM study to arrive at a compatible or non-compatible answer. My PCN is 871. Let us compare PCN-671. Add the two numbers and get a total or a PCNT. This would be 1542 in the example illustrated here. The PCNT-1542 must contain at least one digit in it that matches a digit in both the numbers being matched together, the 671 and the 871. The one matches in the PCNT, there is a one in both 871 and in 671. The more matches, the merrier, but the minimum is one match, total to compared numbers. When I quizzed the GAWNUM on the best time to leave the wonderful family and run away down to Florida in December 2010, I got the PCN for the words Mark Mohr escapes Dawn King, PCN-550, and then tried various dates of month and year PCN, and DECEMBER TWO THOUSAND TEN , matched up GAWNUMLY, I do not remember my exact words, only that whatever I said, both PCN were 550, and the PCNT would come to 1100, a strong double matching zero. So on the eleventh of December when Dawn accused me of unthinkable things, I left and came to Florida, and have been here ever since, and as the great Esolphs Fable might read beyond this, “And that's that”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now taking any total or PCNT and multiplying it by 16, on a calculator, a really magical thing will happen. Simply hit your square root button after that and let the full display that the majority of calculator machines provide, come out on the screen, and ignore the decimal, and add zeros to any number that comes out shy of the normal amount of eight digits. This is called the BRANCHCODE NUMBER in a GAWNUM and in the case of 550 and 550, we get 1100 times 16 to square root equals, with the decimal point rermoved, using eight digits, 13266499. To find branch-codes, work from the left to right in 3-groups, the first being 132, then 326, then 266, and so forth, and see if any numbers are legitimate PCN. In the case of an 1100-BC (Branch-Code), right away, there is the 132, then two numbers dowbn further, we have the 264, and then that is the end of possible codes, so the two BC numbers of 1100 are PCN-132, and PCN-264. You take the roots or two digits, and go down the line to see if any remaining digits can become a PCN. It can be right next to the root, or the final digit away. Some total PCN have no branch-codes, others can have three or so, most have one or two. Then when you get a book of things that you work out PCN to, you can see how things all interconnect in life. You are not imagining any of this, this is a magical way to know all the guarded secrets of the cosmos. Why do I give out powerhouse information for nothing, many wonder. Ask the US Copyright Office why nobody trusts you if you stand on the corner, giving away free ten dollar bills. Oh the suspicious minds of the elders and the gold minors, and all of us. Yes, it is a true Earth shaking experience to ponder on, folks.
Why do electronic things work the way they do? Well, in simple terms, they operate in five full dimensions, despite all of us recording our movies and movies and whatever, in only four of these, and in the 'reality' of most, only three, thus, when we use electronics, because electrons are 5th dimensional sub-atomic particles; they are sensitive to transdimensional reality shifts. So if you dream you hear a song that is not known in the waking world, thus it comes from a parallel universe somewhere where your dreaming-mind was 'visiting', now should you record this in some way, even a U-Tube upload, anything involving electronics, it causes many reality shifts and low frequency shocks, that can become violent weather, not excluding earthquakes, and major disturbances. It happens without fail, the first time were my two dance tunes in 1980, and boom, Mount Saint Helen's blew up in a volcano. Then, I noticed it was every single freaking time.
If any powerful deity is trying to impress me with their magic or cruelty, you have underestimated my new shock value. Still, the 6th dimension, the Gawnum, and electronic metaphysics remains a powerful arsenal in my army, and will not be vanishing into Copperfield Blaine's bunny rabbit trick hat, any time soon. I knew when Hydroglacia the great Astral City, materialized that night at Cifaloglio, and then flew back into distant orbit in the MWG, that my problems were only getting started. Whether Scylla knows it or not, I was too early for a change Ernie Merker. Don't bite me too hard, July Dane. Even Eddie was impressed with that, and it took a lot to impress that Einstein double. If you are out here old buddy, the entire family scum bagged out on me, and took me for every thing I had. Maybe this makes some peeps happy. Stay out of jail. The future knows all about what I am into, and if they think I care, they are sadly mother fucking mistaken, Ed. King Nebnooshoo does not give a rats ass about anything, except helping Mark Minor back into Nirvana, that is, if he will help me reach this priceless oblivion as well. Tell Misses year pronouncer, I AM HERE.
THIS BLOG TERMINATES TRANSMISSION AT THIS POINT!!!!!!!!
2:07 AM-EST-THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2K11
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE: “TUESDAY SIEGE WAS BEYOND INCONCEIVABLE”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN------(C) 2006-2011
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
THE LARGE LOUD MENACING CHOPPER THAT HAS BEEN ON ME, SINCE THE MIDDLE NINETEEN-EIGHTIES; WAS ALL OVER ME ON TUESDAY, LIKE FLIES ON A GARBAGE TRUCK, IN HOT ASS JULY.
I had tremendous aerial siege from numerous sky-crafts, and fire alarms waking me from sleep, as well as many other monstrous other death strikes from my enemy, the Milituforce, Otammites, also known as (AKA) MO. I had a major health attack from beams or poisons or however this is accomplished by the WOMO or the World-Owners-MO. I am never permitted to have anyone over at my residence, without suffering major siege from this dirt bag group of toilet bowl lapping sub-scum. I could go on and on with this, it is a huge reality, and the problem is simply that I am wasting my time, as nobody will believe me, nothing new at all, and of course, is what the WOMO totally counts on to keep them endlessly powerful, and relentlessly evil. On top of all of this, good old mother freaking hot ass Florida is real hot again, after a short couple of weeks of a cool down, as we always seem to get the 1969-New Jersey-Indian Summer, in this gods forsaken paradise. Weather peeps are predicting a possible record breaking afternoon high later on today, near 90.
Why the great Sarah-Stacey Krassle listened to my plea more than twelve-thousand years ago, about not wiping everything out; is a total enigma to me. Still, she did, and I thank HER for granting my plea as misguided as it was, as now; things are not quite the same between us. Still, some things never do change. Also I know what is real, and what is imagined. I also know that reality is as misunderstood by humankind in 2011, as germs and hand-washing was to the medical community back around three-hundred years ago. Still, I am speaking out to a world who will not listen or believe me on a conscious waking level, and I fully appreciate my dire and bleak circumstances, based on this unfortunate 'reality'. All of this being said, what no one alive understands in the dark ages of the 21st century, is the fact that there is a mental realm or a mind dimension, that sends a series of energetic signals onto an Astral-Plane, a sort of arena that could be visualized as a virtual reality being jacked into by the famous Lawn Mower Man, from the movie. From this realm, energy slowly is drained by interactions that exist totally independent of any space-time dimensions of 'reality', and after so many interactions, dream-downs, for lack of a better way of saying it, begin happening, and these energetic signals of pure mind that form Astral Entities, then move further downward into what can be termed, a 5th dimensional hyperspace, a series of unlimited 4-D parallel-universes, where these signals take on a waking human form, as us in this so-called here and now physical life. None of these words, or any others spoken, could ever hope to do justice to explaining all of this so that anyone is going to read it and be hit by Edison's light bulb and yell out, “WO, I got it, BRO”, and have a Selena Dada life altering experience as a result. Again, I know 'reality'. I accept 'reality'. Still, I will go on blogging, as a gambler goes on gambling, fully knowing they are throwing away their beloved family, their nice home, and their way of life. Also, just as Satan knew perfectly well, that he was cutting off his prick to burn his ass by sending Jesus Christ to die on the cross, but his emotions got the better of this great android/angel/ created being/whatever Congressman RA. You can fake it all you want, you, all of you, we all know what is going on, or what 'reality' is there, and who knows it better than the mighty Astral-Plane Lambrigger Cult along the Teck Bay?
One strange unexplainable event after another, continues to manifest around me, at work, at home, and all places that I am forced to go. If I ever told the entire story, and one percent of the world read it, and one percent of those that read it believed it; the entire Milky Way would become Lactose Intolerant and melt away into oblivion in the wink of an asshole hair.
The power of the Sixth Dimension, or the Mind Realm, is beyond any possible verbal description. All the words in Websters dictionary, scrambled into infinite combinations, would appear benign and ubiquitous in any attempt thereof to epitomize utter foolishness. All I can say is this, as the 'spirit leads' in any 'reality'. This MIND when it arrives in 4-D space-time universes, such as this one, but what one as when you read this, if you read this, whoever YO are, what sub-atomic changes have occurred in-between then, and me back in time typing this in my-now? Google is a prime example. It appears to read your mind, and do even things beyond that, you all know what I mean, the way you begin typing a Google-Search, and no longer need to even finish things or hit the enter key in many cases. Biological mind, or binary machine mind, is still MIND, and mind is from a realm called the 6th-Dimension, this is just truth, or AKA 'reality'. When an awake person has enemies from the Astral-Plane, and is aware of stuff, Arnie Kennedy; this becomes quite a lethal combination, as Mister Carter and his glaring eyes, knows only two dam well. I knew I was dead, and so did you, huh Jimmy? Do you think I will forget things like that or Goddesses singing LOIS FOCA songs to me, just because 15 or 30 little years of mortal time happens to tick tock away? Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.
Here is what you do in GAWNUM study to arrive at a compatible or non-compatible answer. My PCN is 871. Let us compare PCN-671. Add the two numbers and get a total or a PCNT. This would be 1542 in the example illustrated here. The PCNT-1542 must contain at least one digit in it that matches a digit in both the numbers being matched together, the 671 and the 871. The one matches in the PCNT, there is a one in both 871 and in 671. The more matches, the merrier, but the minimum is one match, total to compared numbers. When I quizzed the GAWNUM on the best time to leave the wonderful family and run away down to Florida in December 2010, I got the PCN for the words Mark Mohr escapes Dawn King, PCN-550, and then tried various dates of month and year PCN, and DECEMBER TWO THOUSAND TEN , matched up GAWNUMLY, I do not remember my exact words, only that whatever I said, both PCN were 550, and the PCNT would come to 1100, a strong double matching zero. So on the eleventh of December when Dawn accused me of unthinkable things, I left and came to Florida, and have been here ever since, and as the great Esolphs Fable might read beyond this, “And that's that”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now taking any total or PCNT and multiplying it by 16, on a calculator, a really magical thing will happen. Simply hit your square root button after that and let the full display that the majority of calculator machines provide, come out on the screen, and ignore the decimal, and add zeros to any number that comes out shy of the normal amount of eight digits. This is called the BRANCHCODE NUMBER in a GAWNUM and in the case of 550 and 550, we get 1100 times 16 to square root equals, with the decimal point rermoved, using eight digits, 13266499. To find branch-codes, work from the left to right in 3-groups, the first being 132, then 326, then 266, and so forth, and see if any numbers are legitimate PCN. In the case of an 1100-BC (Branch-Code), right away, there is the 132, then two numbers dowbn further, we have the 264, and then that is the end of possible codes, so the two BC numbers of 1100 are PCN-132, and PCN-264. You take the roots or two digits, and go down the line to see if any remaining digits can become a PCN. It can be right next to the root, or the final digit away. Some total PCN have no branch-codes, others can have three or so, most have one or two. Then when you get a book of things that you work out PCN to, you can see how things all interconnect in life. You are not imagining any of this, this is a magical way to know all the guarded secrets of the cosmos. Why do I give out powerhouse information for nothing, many wonder. Ask the US Copyright Office why nobody trusts you if you stand on the corner, giving away free ten dollar bills. Oh the suspicious minds of the elders and the gold minors, and all of us. Yes, it is a true Earth shaking experience to ponder on, folks.
Why do electronic things work the way they do? Well, in simple terms, they operate in five full dimensions, despite all of us recording our movies and movies and whatever, in only four of these, and in the 'reality' of most, only three, thus, when we use electronics, because electrons are 5th dimensional sub-atomic particles; they are sensitive to transdimensional reality shifts. So if you dream you hear a song that is not known in the waking world, thus it comes from a parallel universe somewhere where your dreaming-mind was 'visiting', now should you record this in some way, even a U-Tube upload, anything involving electronics, it causes many reality shifts and low frequency shocks, that can become violent weather, not excluding earthquakes, and major disturbances. It happens without fail, the first time were my two dance tunes in 1980, and boom, Mount Saint Helen's blew up in a volcano. Then, I noticed it was every single freaking time.
If any powerful deity is trying to impress me with their magic or cruelty, you have underestimated my new shock value. Still, the 6th dimension, the Gawnum, and electronic metaphysics remains a powerful arsenal in my army, and will not be vanishing into Copperfield Blaine's bunny rabbit trick hat, any time soon. I knew when Hydroglacia the great Astral City, materialized that night at Cifaloglio, and then flew back into distant orbit in the MWG, that my problems were only getting started. Whether Scylla knows it or not, I was too early for a change Ernie Merker. Don't bite me too hard, July Dane. Even Eddie was impressed with that, and it took a lot to impress that Einstein double. If you are out here old buddy, the entire family scum bagged out on me, and took me for every thing I had. Maybe this makes some peeps happy. Stay out of jail. The future knows all about what I am into, and if they think I care, they are sadly mother fucking mistaken, Ed. King Nebnooshoo does not give a rats ass about anything, except helping Mark Minor back into Nirvana, that is, if he will help me reach this priceless oblivion as well. Tell Misses year pronouncer, I AM HERE.
THIS BLOG TERMINATES TRANSMISSION AT THIS POINT!!!!!!!!
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