endgame

So, this is how it is to be--a grand, world-wide spasm of passive-aggression, unfounded self-righteous indignation, culminating with irrational violence?  Isn't this why I subject my mother to frequent interrogation?  To derail this crazy train of hysteria, hyperbole and misrepresentations--before it physically strikes me?

Whether it's Mexicans, Russians, Israelites, Indians (or Japanese, Chinese, Greeks, Hmong, American-Indians, Javanese, Sri-Lankans, or Italians) the concept of a sovereign nation holding me to account on behalf of its people is wrong-headed.  Wrong.  And obviously so.

If nations without exception rush to the aid of their citizens and expatriot former citizens to redress any perceived slight they should suffer at the hand of a citizen of another country, then why hasn't my country, the United States of America, come to my aid?

Because I am given to understand that I am being cruelly manipulated by some alien power--and that this arrangement has obtained for decades.  I haven't merely suffered a momentary pin-prick of embarrassment due to slanderous (or perhaps true) comments of some other person from some other racial or national background.  Rather, my civil and human rights of privacy, property, due process, free speech, and the very pursuit of happiness, among others, have been all but completely abrogated.

I am persecuted literally 24 hours a day.  And what's more, this persecution is obvious, given my unique circumstance, to the rest of my country and perhaps the to the rest of the world.

I am baffled.

Merry Christmas
It's a wet, sloshy Christmas.  I'm too poor to properly celebrate, and I've no one to celebrate with.  I sang some nice Christmas songs with my mom last night, on Christmas Eve eve.  Why dwell on it?  It was fun singing the songs.

big boob picture

I was fighting exhaustion the other day as I went alley by alley, garbage can by garbage can, looking for scrap metal.  It was cold and about a foot of fresh snow covered the ground.  Under these conditions, travel by bike is difficult at best, and the contents of construction dumpsters are completely obscured.  So private garbage cans in allies seemed like as good a bet as anything else.

Most of the cans were pretty empty though.  I looked down in one and saw flesh tones and blonde hair.  That's not metal, true.  But I was feeling randy and I thought I'd have a look.  Sure enough, it was a flier for Playboy's Cyber club.  Anything that might add energy to the situation seemed worth a look.  I mean, after 200 empty cans, anything amusing would help me continue.

"Too cold outside?  Come warm up with me!" was the caption to a photograph of a 20-something blonde girl standing outside in the snow, completely nude except for a pair of white leather boots and a pair of white leather gloves, with which she obscured her most private sector.  Her large, perfectly formed breasts were on full display beneath her beaming smile.  Her nipples were full and completely erect (due to the cold weather, no doubt).

I admired the photograph briefly, then found a way to fix it into a nearby telephone poll, so that other passers-by that cold day might enjoy it as well.

Just as it is never a coincidence when I meet up with somebody on the street, it is rarely a coincidence when I happen upon material like this.  

Basically, somebody wanted to derail my attempt to start something with a very intriguing girl who did not, um, resemble the girl in the photograph.

Knowing this, I didn't ignore the photo.  Another thing about photos--just as interviews in publications, the subjects of photos may well share present time knowledge of ME.  I came across a Victoria Secret catalogue featuring my favorite supermodel, Marissa Miller.  I swear she was looking right at me while she modeled those bras!  So this naked girl--it was something, I don't know what, but something more than just a photograph--as any such photo  would be.  So I gave it a little attention.

The girl I was interested in (not in the photo) had recently given me some negative feedback.  Yes, this was probably some sort of test, and given this the passing behavior would have been to woodenly ignore the flash of skin tones and continue on my way.  But these tests are dumb and I personally did not think any such test would promote relations with this other gal one way or the other.  If she did, she was wrong.

I wasn't pining after big-boobed blonde girls--maybe somebody wanted it to look like I was though, in order to derail the incipient flirtation (the life-cycle of which is documented in this blog).  People have to be bigger than this--people like the whole foods girl.

Another Standard Riff of the Conspirators

I could tell that they were determined that I drink a tainted beverage before going to sleep the other night.  None of my usual attempts to sneak a sports drink and then pay for it worked.  I throw out a PowerAid from Walgreens because it tasted so bitter that it was clearly tainted.  I tried again at the grocery store, and that beverage was tainted as well--but I drank the whole thing.

It became clear that they had plans for me the next day, and they wanted me to be enervated.

Having imbibed the tainted beverage, I woke up the next day and attempted to lift weights before going to the cafe for breakfast.  I had next to no energy.  I managed my workout, which can be done in as few as 15 minutes, in an hour and a half.  I felt that I was either dehydrated or suffering from some kind of poisoning--most likely the usual suspect, a non-lethal dose of arsenic.

When I got to the cafe for breakfast, there was a black gentleman there with his young daughter who was dressed in pink.  I recognized him from the tennis club I used to belong to.

Now it's clear that there was a plan for this morning at the cafe.  I was expected to be completely exhausted--and I was, but the workout had pepped me up slightly.

The guy repeatedly inquires about some situation with his daughter in her school or whatever, something about a seat and about a Gabe.  Gabe of course sounds like Gay , especially from the next table.  This was intended.  You see, these tennis people stole a bunch of money from me then got me fired from my job in order to prevent me from being able to pay my monthly dues and so get me kicked out of the club.

The girl said what I think were her lines, in an unrelated topic of conversation regarding her energy level.  She was saying that when she's happy, she has energy but when she's not happy, she's tired.  Remember, the conspirators intended for me to be absolutely bushed at the cafe.  There was some mention of the word depression in relation to the topic. 

I guess what they were trying to imply is that I was depressed at the club.  And I guess then they are suggesting that that's why they wanted to kick me out.  And their support for this was that they claim I was low energy. 

Well, this whole scheme only gives insight into what actually went on when I was a member of the tennis club.  This apparently was part of general strategy that that demon Sue and others were engaged in--poison me so as to enervate me, then claim I'm depressed.  My evidence?  Well, the scheme I just detailed sets it out quite clearly--it's exactly what they pulled on me on this occasion.

Indeed, I was often low energy at the club--despite having unlimited emthusiasm for both tennis and the club.  But I could never understand why I was so wasted day after day--maybe I worked out too hard.  Now I know though.

The Conspirators' Compassion For My Loneliness At The Holidays

The completely ludicrous pretense of compassion for my being alone during the holidays evinced by various media entities is absolutely hypocritical and absurd.

These people have stymied every conceivable attempt made by me to develop any kind of social relationship all year long.  Additionally they engage in all of the other acts of persecution detailed in the blog and most that have not yet made it into writing.

Now that it's the holiday season, they purport to be concerned that I am alone.  What total bs.  It's just another way of attempting to make me look bad.  I'm alone because they are sadists. [out of time]

Bs Conceits of The Conspirators

You either believe or you don't.  I ate some food that was likely tainted given the circumstances--the vendor clearly saw it as I paid for it and thus it was tainted.

The next morning I had a sore throat, with a runny nose.  This has happened so many times.  The basic idea is that these assfucks are always asking the question 'what could conceivably, believably go wrong in Ken's life?'  So it's winter time, that means I could conceivably get a cold.  But I generally get sufficient sleep, I'm extremely healthy, and I get 100% vitamin c every day.  But these dipshits need for something to go wrong in my life.  In their twisted puny minds, just the remote possibility that I could catch cold, in theory, is justification enough for giving me a cold virus.  Outside of their puny little minds, this is a felony.

You can tell when these shit-for-brains losers are plotting some such scheme because they always make comments or gestures that anticipate the evil effects of their plot before they really manifest themselves, or before the plot has completed.  So in this case, you've got people demonstratively blowing their noses next to me in Panera before I really have the cold. 

People demonstratively exhibiting signs of suffering the same chance malady that has been inflicted on me is also an old stand-by for these creeps.  It's supposed to show that other people succumb to these problems so clearly there's no conspiracy.  Or even 'well, it's obvious we did this to you, but we also did it to this person, so it's not just you, so it's fair.'  You had this when my car got towed any time it wasn't absolutely legally parked (I was a courier, so that was quite often).  Even when a simple parking ticket would have sufficed, they towed the car.  Then I'd go down to the pound to pick it up, and there'd be this black couple demonstratively bemoaning the unfairness of their car having been towed. 

But these people who are supposed to illustrate that the suffering meted out to me was also inflicted on others, they never appear to really have been so punished.  I don't believe the couple really had their car towed--they thought it was sufficient to act as though it had been towed.  And the girl blowing her nose in Panera, she didn't really appear to have a runny nose. 

Or the media (Tribune, SunTimes, AP) could run a story that meant to serve the same purpose--illustrate that others have been made to suffer in similar ways.  But when it's in the paper, forget it.  Those stories, which are meant to serve that purpose for the conspirators, are simply bs.  They can print anything they want.  The media people are so deluded and drunk on what they think is their own power, that they believe that they actually can spin reality--manufacture truth right from their presses.   If it's in the paper, it must be true.

Finally, even if these parties did suffer in the ways they claim to have, it's never the same party.  The same person didn't have their wallet stolen, didn't get infected with a virus, didn't get their car towed for a minor parking violation, didn't have their guitar ripped off, didn't have their locker broken into...etc. 

But these reports and demonstrations are always meant to justify some malicious act committed against me.  Me and only me, every time.  So there's a list that reaches straight to Hell of shitty things the conspirators have done to me, and even in the most sympathetic interpretation of reality, balancing crimes have been committed against as many other people--one other person per crime.  Thus I suffer the cumulative effect of a decades-long campaign of persecution, and maybe some person has one bad thing happen to them.  That does not really balance the suffering meted out to me then, does it?  Because if your car is towed on Tuesday, and your wallet is stolen on Friday, you then can't pay rent.  The cumulative damage is exponentially greater than one isolated act.

Setup?

So much to document, so little time.

I was walking to the Lincoln Belmont library the other day and I ran into a girl I had talked to occasionally at Starbuck's on North Avenue. She greeted me and we talked briefly, then she started drawing back from me, as if I were emanating some unpleasant vibration.  We waved and I went on my way.

The way she unexpectedly drew back, suddenly displeased with the way our conversation was going, reminded me exactly of a stunt that this guy Art did when I ran into him at a bar.  We were talking about music and musicians we knew when suddenly he drew back in that way, as if he suddenly found me not worth talking to.  But with Art, I knew it was an act.  He left my table and went to talk to some other music guys in the bar.

Later at another blues bar, I ran into him again, and he did the old 'What was your name again? [Ken] Oh, I never would have thought of that.'  It's like, you never really registered on my radar, you're so insignificant.  But I know he knows my name.  So he's doing this thing where he's going around to all these music bars where I might try to involved myself and attempting to keep me on the outside.  You can tell it's part of a definite initiative.

The Starbucks girl was, I think, doing the same thing.  I didn't realize this until tonight. 

The day after I ran into her,  I heard subliminally "You're trash" then I saw her drive by in a car heading east on Fullerton.  Wow.  What was I supposed to understand?  Was I supposed to hit on her?

Clearly, this is being put over on me this way:  I am supposed to understand that I came up short socially when I ran into her, that I failed to take advantage of an opportunity to have company for the Holiday, that I chose loneliness, and further that I did her wrong in so doing.

I can't breath without doing somebody wrong these days.

As far as that chance meeting which wasn't chance--I've stated that of course, whenever I 'run into' somebody, it's absolutely intended by the other party--  [got to go].

fungible cooch

It's been probably three days since these events took place, but I'm still feeling their repercussions.  I drank some water at the Barnes & Noble cafe on Diversy.  The blonde chick there was watching me like a hawk and when I poured the water she reverted to some animal state, eyes flaring like a predator as they fixed on the water.  She was poisoning it.

Later, just before I left, I felt tingles in my privates, much like I had before when I came under similar attack.  Somebody used their cell phone to shock my genitals!  Am I suffering permenant damage? I don't know.  I wanted to punt the guy's head across the street.  But I can't retaliate.

I believe the attack was made possible by some agent that the blonde chick put in my water.  Where this malice comes from I have no idea.  But it pissed me off.  At some point I imagined me imagining sending "force lightning" bolts at her privates while in the Cafe--ie, next time I'm in there and she's working, I will clearly imagine that scene.  I thought of this because I wanted to get her back for being part of a plot do harm me physically.

But guess what--blonde chicks in the community are now bitching about it and I'm once again the bad guy.  I just wanted to illustrate how wicked what she did to me was!  I didn't actually do anything, unlike her.  But once again, I am villified.  You people are insane--you have blinders that only perceive circumstance that might give rise to another criticism of me.

 

revelations

my parents are more directly involved than I thought.  they're trying to render me sterile/impotent by hitting me with electromagnetic radiation in conjunction with some metallic agent in my bloodstream.

i should get out of the city.  I don't really want to.  looking for contacts in Texas.

I have several pages of handwritten entries I need to type in--but time on a computer is a rare commodity.

After I do that, I'll pick up the narrative--I'm under attack 24 hours a day.

The Girl From Whole Foods--Obituary
The flirtation with the girl from whole foods passed away quietly in its sleep last night.  Services have not yet been announced.