SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0327

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0327

WORLD LABS DATFILE:

CH-0327-012812.909

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

© 2006-2012

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AMD ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“8 MOTHER FUCKING DAYS OF CHEMTRAIL SIEGE”

W-H-E-R-E—-I-S—T-H-E—Y-O-U**T-U-B-E

S-K-Y—W-I-T-N-E-S-S, A-N-D—O-T-H-E-R—V-I-D-E-O

C-A-M—W-A-T-C-H-E-R-S, Y-O-U—N-E-E-D—T-O

G-E-T—T-O—F-O-R-T—P-I-E-R-C-E—F-L-O-R-I-D-A, **YO**.

 

 

START BLOG:

 

Well peeps, it was last Saturday that my blogs told How some nasty vicious TIMETUBES were all around and menacing, while out with my computer guru, Meagan. Since then, it has continued  from this past Saturday, and with this Saturday, making this an eight mother fucking day death siege by sky that is persisting in its absolute and unrelenting pummeling of this Southeastern-Central Florida, area, here in the USAESMWG. Count the eight days for yourself, old late pal John Lennon, as soon for us both, ITS GONNA’ B2 FRERAKING ASS LATE, CHOKE-CHOKE-CHOKE.

SATURDAY

SUNDAY

MONDAY

TUESDAY

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY

FRIDAY

SATURDAY———————-DUH FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Why major fucking PUSSY-COMMAND has not kicked in, is anybody’s guess, but it cannot be procrastinated nor prolonged endlessly. Eventually, things will break, and some gorgeous breath taking young giant goddess is gonna’ start climbing all over me, this is not bragging, I merely tell what parallel truths, have indeed been on going around me since the eighties ended, and I began noticing that girls were attracted by me in supernatural and rationality-defying degrees. The only problem so far is that every single time this happens and goddesses do in fact come on to me, literally throwing themselves at me; I run away, don’t I; MIZZ ZENKISS-1970-HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY? Where the fuck are you when I need you, DAVID LEIGH SMITH, of the great of New Jersey historic town of king George, highways and highway robbery taxes and all, YO?

 

Now we have some bigger problems, if imagining this is remotely possible to do folks; than the chemtrails/timetubes. Think of Clark Kent and Superman when I say CHEMTRAILS/TIMETUBES. As time and more blogs follow, I will get real non subtly specific as to just what I am talking about, but the blog tonight is gonna; get that way on some mother more pressing matters that have to fucking do with right now and the very near term time circa.

 

I went to bed around ten in the morning on Friday, as remember, Friday is an off day with my working schedule; and slept about 3.5 hours, waking up with a bang that noise had nothing to do with. This was a very unpleasant sleep that led me to not remember too much about the events of the day yesterday, other than doing a blog that I have no memory of doing, and also, why I said some of those things, totally eludes me. I have no idea why Haddonwood closed down, and it almost seems as if some body snatcher tried to demonically possess me and take me over, or maybe the more apt word would be, I was overtaken by asn exploratron, and the one who comes most to mind for me is good old Paula Belinda King, of Atlantic mother fucking City, in New cunt lapping Jersey, peeps. I want, no scratch the word want, I feel the total freaking need, I mean I am 100% compelled to tell you this powerful DREAMINGH INTERACTION that took place somewhere late and towards the final period of these three and a half hours of a very light and uneasy sleep, yesterday. I was standing on Pierce Avenue in Camden, New Jersey, about four blocks north of the sound recording studio where I was employed from late July of 1979 through middle March of 1981, and the house in front of me was beige color, and it was around early afternoon  in the late springtime of this year, in 2012. I remember hearing two peeps walking down the street and mentioning how they thought something, I forget now what it was, was going to happen in the neighborhood by this time in May of 2012. The sun was warm and very bright, there was not a puff of cloud material, or jet crap, in the sky at first, and then out of nowhere, dozens of these jets were up there and altering the sky, and filling it up in just a few quick minutes with horrible frightening ugly chemical jet vapor trails, AKA folks, as (CHEMTRAILS). The fear in the DREAMING EXPERIENCE was beyond any fear that I have known while in this universe/reality where I now appear to be awake abnd typing this blog, and some physicists call it, this particular atomic signature in hyperspace. Suddenly I realized that I was not alone, but that several peeps were with me at this place. We remained outside on the sidewalk, a few cars passing by but not often, like it was a holiday or the road was semi-closed, as I remember Pierce Avenue from my employment days at the RPL recording studio, and traffic may not have been highway-like, but it was not conducive for a lot of tiny children to be playing Hopscotch Games in it either.

 

I’ll get back to this, I had to shut down and deal with a satellite death attack on my health, or a TIMETUBE ATTACK, I do not know exactly which does what and when, nor do I have clue point oh one as to why, only that I’m suffering through this horrendous deplorable unconscionable monstrous fucking attack at the hands of this twisted fucking diseased MILI-2-FORCE-WOMO BOHEMIAN DIRT BAGS WITH EGOS LARGER THAN THE MWG TIMES TEN TO 55TH EXPONENT. So now that the major diarrhea attack is over, and I’m back at my computer doing this word-dock, at 957 millidays, or just past eleven at night, on the great southeastern coast of the continental United States; let me resume telling the blog-world of cybentities Poor Richard Franklin of post 1790; great lovely sun-rooms, and all other such things notwithstanding; and we left off, or really, I did; with the house on Pierce Avenue about four blocks north of the recording studio where I was employed as a Sound engineer, or really a Tape-Duplicator, but if dudes who pick up maggot filled bags of stench all morning can be Sanitation engineers, then this indeed opens up the door for permitting me this title, and may I brag that the best sound man in the entire RIAA taught me well, and I have been complimented by industry giants throughout the years on my ability to record sound, especially with bargain basement apparatus, compared with what most of them have to work with, but back on point here, YO; and I came to realize in this powerful dreaming-interaction or hyperspace-travel with all of my memories in tact; that several other folks were with me there. None of us belonged in or to the house, yet we were there, outside of it and off of the property, legally standing on the sidewalk as well as out in the street, switching back and forth. Suddenly, a person exited who looked familiar, but the dream-memory is too shady for an accurate descriptive recall, but this was a middle aged man who was fairly nicely dressed for a home in the hoods of Camden, New Jersey, and he placed three open reel tapes on top of the garbage can that belonged to the home, outside in-between the sidewalk and the street, where cans in cities and towns normally are indeed placed. As we approached the garbage can, myself and two or three other peeps; the name “Robert Carey” was clearly printed in large bold letters on stickers, on each of these three open-reel tapes, with size 7 reels, as there are the 3, the 5, the 7, and the 12, if memory from the early eighties is serving me at all here, with accuracy. I took these tapes and placed them into some type of an upper shelve in the backpack that was worn by one of the peeps who was with me. It seems now looking back on it, that we were all sort of waiting for this man to put these three tapes there, abnd then we were right there and ready to grab them and get out of there. As we began walking down the street in a totally different direction, and turning off Pierce and onto one of the intersecting roads heading east towards Federal Street, not that far from where I used to fly small rockets in the local park with old John Henningsen back in the middle-late nineteen-sixties. However, the only thing flying here, were those horrific high air jets, spewing out gobs and gobs of countless curvy and linear messy filthy CHEMTRAILS. If you are stumbling onto this blog and do not know what is being referred to, you need to GOOGLE this up, as well as go up on the YOU-TUBE site, and search this topic, it is all over everywhere, just about matching the chemtrails themselves now, pound for pound and buck for buck. If nothing else since late 1987, at least I got this world talking and watching and wondering. So anyway, in this incredible wild dreaming-interaction in a parallel universe where my awake body was here in my bed, and my dream-body was free to explore the hyperspace; this chemtrailing gr4ew worse and worse, you could actually physically feel the oppressive force of so many of these concentrated jet trails being literally pumped all around us as fast as the speed of light or so it sure appeared to us who were having this outlandish ass experience. Then one of the jets did something never ever tried to my knowledge in this universe where my physical body is awake and typing this message to any interested parties. It had some way of directing these trails at a high speed. They all began to fly around, some merging, others splitting up, and they were dancing almost as if to some party music beat. I was losing my sanity, and fell to the ground crying like a baby. Then I could barely breath, and began coughing uncontrollably, where you cannot fully intake a new breath before you need to cough out the poisons again, sounding like someone with that old disease rarely heard about any longer, by the name of Whooping Cough. Shortly around the time that my mother had her abduction and memory loss experience in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in the early nineteen-nineties, she was on a bus that went from where we lived in New Jersey, to where she worked in an office over in Philadelphia; and she told me and described in great detail, how she had experienced this very same frightening breath taking series of cough-attacks. I have been getting them in the 21^st century as well, as a result of all of these poisonous vapor CHEMTRAILS. DO ANY OF YOU GET THIS, PLEASE COMMENT??? We need to take this to the fucking AMA folks, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now getting back to telling the ‘dream’, after we all got perhaps a five minute walk away from the house where it seemed to all start, and the sky was literally racing around with deadly fumes and horizon to horizon trailing, at almost a time-lapsed photographic speed, and when I was able to stand up and stop coughing, I noticed that my friends around me were all dead, and maggots were all ready eating them up. I began at this point to totally lose it, and uncontrollably jumped up and down like the folks on the PRICE IS RIGHT television show, only instead of in happiness, I was screaming at the top of my lungs about injustice, criminality, murderers, and half screaming/half crying the words over and over again, “This shit has to be stopped”. All I remember after that was a short quick burst of being up in the sky and touching the end of a very scarey looking chemtrail, and the next thing I was aware of, was being back here in Florida and back in January again, roughly 120 days or so back in time from where I had been. I let go of the trail and floated slowly through the ceiling of the place where I work through the AARP PROGRAM and the OBAM STIMULUS SYSTEM, only in this other parallel reality universe, the place was quite different, and one of the aisles connected directly into a private room, that over here where I am typing and awake, is a thrift store inside of this larger surrounding store, called the Kingdom Harvest, and the website where anyone can access this place is, www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ . Go there, and then click on the part that says, “STORIES”; and then my photo will pop up. They misspelled my name on it and spell it as MARC, it is really MARK. Still, my kid knows my Einstein hair, and IMHO in 2008, used this to get my attention, and it worked. I did not work at Harvest in 2008, but my blog photo on the old BLOGGER blogs before the continuation hacked one; shows my photo that resembles the one on the HARVEST WEBSITE, of me. I had totally forgotten about another hyperspace travel and a banquet that took place there in July of 2010, but my kid was there and was showing me all kinds of various foods that I needed to take over and place at various spots along a rectangular table. I had no way of knowing about this table in middle July of 2010 and had only started at this job on the 8^th of June, about 33 days before, yet much later, over here in waking life, I came to see this table was indeed there, only in a different location in the building. Dreams within dreams or even remembering other so-called ‘dreams’ while dreaming, proves a lot more is happening in these experiences than just what doctors and present day labs mistakenly believe in their dark age sheer ignorance. In fact, a videotape was playing and somebody told me to sit down and watch it, yet it was connected to the public aisle. I did what I was told, and when the video tape began, it reminded me about the banquet, and told that a dude named David from Suffolk county, New York, would be sent shortly to work with me, and become my boss, and would then go on to treat me horrendously to get me to quit, or be fired. Nick sent him, according to this videotape. Well, I cannot prove this, but right after he had just about done me in, back around early middish April of last year in 2011, I believe that my wonderful kid stepped in and told Nicky to call him and stop it or else. Nobody says no yo MI, nobody. The problem with all of this is called HYPERSPACE EFFECT. Things are all happebning in a much larger picture-arena, the 5^th dimension or the entire hyperspace, a space that contains countless parallel universes, many similar ot our own here, many quite different, but so many that there is almost no usable number to describe it. The really close similar ones or the localized-hyperspace so to speak, (LHS) has effects that work to commingle and combine stuff, or in other plainer words and terms, if certain things happen in several universes that are similar to this one, only in this one, they are not, the effects eventually will be forced to bleed into here, in one way or another, not exactly but similarly, as more and more things keep happening in the other similar ones. It is sort of like asking you to picture a scenario of water seeking its own level, only 5^th dimensionally, move over Doctor Coral Sagan. When I tried telling poor David Charles Roth about these type of things in the Warren grove, New Jersey military War-Games area of the jersey pine Forests, he put a back end limit on his willing involvement, thinking it was no more than a child creating imaginary friends. If he could have had the background in math and Quantum Dynamics, and then with the strange privilege of hanging with me and messing with my life story and all of this stuff, that he had in subjects such as history, music, and automobiles, his three super babies; then and only then could we have teamed up, and done things that WOULD HAVE changed this entire world. For one thing, none of what you think is so real around you all, in this strange 2012 time era; was ever meant to be here. We could have set things back to where it was more slanted and meant to evolve into. Call this the height of ego and huberous, but I dare to make this claim, because I can make it, because, I KNOW. Move over Mizz New-Nun Whoopee Goldberg Blowlights. No, there is no way that my wonderful kid did not help me get rid of monster David, thank you so very very much. You are so beyond my fave daughter, brown eyes. Then adding up 2+2 just the same amount of days later that I spent in 1970 in Ventnor, 2 and 2, weeks and days that is; and then came your second wonderful thing that you did for me. Just let me know if I can ever do anything at all for you, I’ll never ever let you down. You make a great boss and a great cop, by the way. To end the dream story folks, two dreams came into one, and the banquet dream sort of fell inside the dream where it all started or seemed to anyway, up near my old recording studio job, RPL. In the waking world, I had totally forgotten about the 2010 summer time ‘banquet dreaming interaction at my job’, that is until it merged into this one on early Friday afternoon. I did not go outside after getting up that day, but chemtrails were horrible. When I bought some Breyers Ice Cream today at the Winn Dixie Grocery Store, they were off the scales monster ass bad. Chemtrails do more than anyone presently knows about, let me try and tie a few real powerhouse secrets all together so that at your perusal folks, you just examine these words, and then cogitate on stuff and truths will become self evident in time.

 

First, Pope Benedict the Sixteenth is a great wonderful and very open-minded Pope. He is not like any other Pope in the history of my church. One family was planned to be the contact point from time to time, with the most powerful god on the Astral plane, and us Earthlings living awake here on the Earth. Today,. We go by HUNTINGTON. These are my cousins and they are scattered all over the planet. Still, these nearly seven years of blogs tells a story that not 100 Einstein genius minds could ever intentionally fake. The story moves along and contains a life of its own, unlike say the books that are written from a predetermined set of notes, even the great works of King and Patterson, and all the rest, my story lives, it has no start, no end, it is not coming from inside a time realm, and thus trying to tell it inside one, makes it just about as difficult as enjoying a vacation in HELL. When the Pope in the year 2008, decided to come around and see what was going on, covertly of course, he shortly thereafter published something the world over, that many believed would lead to the ruination of the entire church structure, but it did not, because man is flawed, not the gods. My own very special daughter recognized what Bruce Pennock was speaking about back when she was only a toddler, that indeed it is the flaw of space-time built into its own self that causes the human material realm and those living fleshly in it, to be in fact flawed. You cannot be otherwise, and those saying otherwise are total liars. The proof of avoiding as many flaws as is ‘humanly’ possible, is to take what we see in cosmos, and then use this example in every single smaller structure from there, down to the crap we cannot even see with the most powerful lab microscopes. The one thing besides light that remains constant in cosmos, is balance. All we ever hear when the word C or Constant or the velocity of light photons in a vacuum, is that this is the universal constant. Well, there really are honestly two of them, C and B. No jokes Lenny, no radios, no 601 handles, no PA buildings, no sir, let us keep this real serious folks. The second constantly operating part of cosmos ios BALANCE. Everything is in a perfect non flawed balance. When and if something falls out of it through the now known ST fabric of this cosmos, really STM; then the flaw results in a relatively quick extermination of this imbalance. Balance is always achieved by the continual process of things moving out of it continuously and then immediately re-compensating and moving back into it, the greatest example of this being the pendulum. Anything we need to know better, can therefore be achieved by seeking universal balance in that particular item being wondered about. Sure enough, the answer as all detectives will tell us, is just about always if not always, the most obvious one and is she shortest distance between any distant points in and of any speculations. An instant example that comes to mind is the endless raging debate between scientific and religious communities. No matter who likes this sentence or not, the cosmos screams out the one and only one answer here, the obvious one, the shortest one, and the balanced one. The truth, as the mighty Jim Garrigan told me back in 1970 in Haddonfield, NJUSAESMWG; is always somewhere in the middle. Pendulums will never hold a polarity, they endlessly seek to balance at central parity, these are constants every bit as real and huge as the speed of photons in a total vacuum. Take playing detective now. Hay, maybe I missed my freaking calling folks, who knows, but let’s just examine something really wild and cool here for a quick second, OK John King. Anyone can GOOGLE thios, it is not sanitized over, not yet anyway. I am talking about somebody, only he or whatever, knows, and knows what he/she is really up to, but let us closely examine “DJ-DONNA SUMMER”. This, pun intended, might get a bit hairy, and in the morning, in the AM, when it is light and matters, Auntie. Now first we have this whoever it really is entity up on the internet and all over the You Tube, and this could have been any one of a million other things with just as much or even more current name recognition, if all this is really about is helping climb the Google-Ranking-System. Many know that after 100,000 hits, Google pays peeps to place ads on their site. Also, if everybody is higher ranked than we are, then nobody is looking at our pages, our websites, our posts, our blogs, and so have you. Now, this could just as easily have been DJ-M&M, or DJ-Rapper big 7, and on and on, but this other name was picked. Now, taking this further, he could have put up a page on anybody or anything. But in the middle twenty-ohs, he put up a page about two so-called nut cases, ‘me’ and Synthesizer ‘Goddam-it Bruce’. He even somehow got a record company selling my stolen tape from friendly Ice Cream Store and Compufone ® ripoff messages, named Aquarius, to sell this stuff. This record company is the name of an astrological sign that has a major connection to the very first secretly done album in Munich, Germany, by a teenaged girl named Donna Gaines,who shortly thereafter married a dude named Somer, and then she changed her stage name to read DONNA SUMMER. This HAIR album, contained the famous Broadway musical in Manhattan, HAIR SHOW, song, AQUARIUS. Anyone who cannot see that things in this cosmos do not happen like this by some random sheer chance accident, is deluded and pathetic. Then there is the PCN of the McDonald’s commercial poker hand-963, matching many powerful things, one such thing being, “Ten-Thousand-Dollars”. This rumor has grown a lot of moss and grass for a lot of years. I only lost one cassette tape. If Joe wants to make other bets, and lose, fine, but until I get to the bottom of what the © Office did to my two dance tunes, I am smart enough to know better than to bet anyone anything on that. I have witnesses that I wrote and indeed did copyright these two dance tunes in 1980, originally sent on open reel tape. Still, we can always play James Rockford and his files, and the nineteen-seventies, and get back to all of these loose teeth and other agonizing Keisha punches. 

 

Branch-Codes in the great GAWNUM have been talked about, and will be again reiterated on soon, just not tonight. Many powerful recent things have been put together for compatibility study, with the GAGA-NU. Well, baby talk, Cindy Lisping Brady, Rock Stars, Atlantic City Property Owners, and Mathematical genius kitty cats; all notwithstanding here folks, I need to bring this to a close for tonight. It is late, and I need eat a late night snack, watch a little TV, and crash. BYE-BYE, oh, but before I do go, I have no idea what happened to me yesterday. I just remember the day as a fog. When I awoke today and went up to the blog sites where I post and read what I wrote, I did a LOBO and a Ben Stone-L&O, and fell right off my chair. In any event, I am OK, and there is no need to worry about me, BEACH BOYS, or BEACH BITCHES. How I miss Atlantic City and all that horrible punishment, gimme’ a break there Elmer Fwudd, SHEEEEEEEIT.

 

Just how far did the All Mighty Goddess, SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE really go with me since she came here in 1896, Mister Smith, either one of you, David or Joe? Well, remember that for the Earthly sake of the GAWNUM, I was born in the English speaking United States, in Bryn Mawr, Montgomery County, in the state of Pennsylvania, at about 9:30 AM, on the 4^th day of December, in the year of 1954, so my name-number is based on MARKMOHR, and SSJKK’s name-number is based on SARAHKRASSLE. The Holy Scriptures talk about the name-number and tell how Apollo-Lucifer or the now-SATAN, has the name-number of 666. It is so strange how Doghouse Boy lived for some time out on Thirty-Sixth Avenue, because if you take the numbers from 1, 2, 3, 4, and go all the way to number 36, guess what name-number we get, wow, gee, could it really be 666? I am so shocked and surprised, maybe they will play “our song” right Donna, you know, on the radio? Hopefully, they won’t. I have been trying so hard to forget, and just never seem to be able to. Darn, this lovely HUNTINGTON CURSE is so much fun. Gee, I’m having such a wonderful life, mister STUART HUNTINGTON CARPENTER, should I try and Jimmy this thing a little bit, or just leave it alone and do a hell of a lot of fucking praying folks?

 

Maybe Ronald and Vandegrift just had to go and DUKE it out, because of the shooting of PEE-JR HAZARD, huh GOVERNOR? Still, the many days of my life tell me and all of the xenon radiation as well; that ‘FOUR ACES AND ONE FIVE OF HEARTS’ is equal GAWNUMLY to PCN-880. Play that music, MI wonderful lovely MI. Still, their combination hand that aired on TV right after I posted my poker hand dreaming interaction, comes as you know if you do the freaking math, to PCN-963. Also, 36^th Avenue comes to PCN-853. These two PCN are two out of the 81 possible ones that are so powerful, and are the same as so much major stuff in my personal life that I could talk on and on all night long and into the next year, and not start to cover it all, so nighty night, folks, WHAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

You have a real gift there President Obama, I’m playing with your printed digital sample, and you should hear yourself doing the Congressman’s song, “Long river blues”. Rock on sir, you’ve got my vote for what that’s worth.

 

END TRANSMISSION:

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0326, YO

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0326

1:39 PM-EST-JANUARY 27TH, 2012

MARK MOHR RECORDING, FOR THE

RECORD, ON THE RECORD, AND BY

THE RECORD, OH MIGHTY GREAT ©

OFFICE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

THIS IS THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT,

CONTINUING ON THE INTERNET, OR PART 4, “YO”

 

BEGINNING HERE, BROTHER:

 

My dirt hole nabes across the hall have been real fucking ass noisy today, getting home around 2 or 3, and slamming and hollering like ignorant duosh bags all day long today. However, this is so unimportant when freaking compared to a higher deal that is going on, lads, lassies, and Labrador Retrievers, BREEEEEEEEEE!

 

I know why HADDONWOOD closed down. I’ve got him now, Patty Exploratron, so whatcha gonna’ do about it? TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly Munster Shipyards Andrews, clink, clink.

 

Now, what will I do that I am back again? Worry! TOLD YOU, not U-Gina, that is his bag, Pal Heitzmann.

 

My equations have paid off I see, he is using them and has books and books and ton of shit, but now, it will be done my way, Sinatra.

 

Interfere with me anyone, at your own risk. There are some folks around the world who know that I, do not play games as many others do. Jump up and down and scream and yell all you want. I made sure that a lot of shit happened exactly the way that I wanted it too. Here is some Red Henningsen verification of who I am. Is it still down there? Did I plan this good or what? Did I use the right mother fucker to get things not only done, but to answer all my queries about gravitation? Does the road really connect the two places, or am I just ‘dreaming’? Did I teach you how to explore as well as you would like, Pee?

 

Now to move on just a little bit until I get more adjusted to new circumstances, after seemingly accomplishing the unaccomplished goal of the ages? Did I choose the correct family? There are three open reel tapes with my name on them, I want them back, PEE! When I put the US Customs onto that poor bastard at 6097844020, I can do it to other ten digit groups as well. I have a lot of friends in town up there.

 

It seems that the Lightning Goddess Diana is concerned with this new cohabitation. Well, what’s done is done, and what is, is; right old dead distant cousin in law?

 

I have been determined for 75 years, to know how to beat that force, and through MWM and his STM, I am finally on my way. The Prophet of Nothing huh, the quintessential young man who did not know shoe polish from fecal material. Over the river and through the test pressings, sing me a high bar sweetie pie.

 

A moron knows when a blog closes, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf, Wolf.

 

 

 

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0325, KING NEB

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0325

WORLD LABS DATFILE: 012512.887

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

© 2006-2012 BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

 

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

 

I asked Gawky Gaukauk why this mind bending siege this entire week is on going. By asking the cat, this simply means you take a deck of playing cards and use the four suits from ace through nine, think your question while shuffling and drawing one card. Then place the card back into the deck, and again, think your question while shuffling and drawing one card. The first draw is the root digit one of the GAWNUM, and the second draw is the root digit two of the GAWNUM, My draws while asking what the fuck is going on, were a two, followed by a four, giving me GAWNUM-ROOT #24, which is Private Cosmicoded Number 242. It does not require a rocket scientist, no pun intended; to see a lot of shit here. Still, peeps that have not become addicted and fallen madly in love with the GAGA-NU, just don’t GET IT yet, because it is extremely addictive, and I did tell Drunk Jenny not to make a freaking god out of this thing, back at the early start of this millennium. WOLF-WOLF. There really aren’t too many names that do not ring loud bells, in this incredible New Age Perry Mason gang of 22 years now, a cult in and of itself; and one that I am one of their biggest freaking fans. Still, Ernie Gardens, whenever I really like a show or a song, or some kind of artistic work; I always come to learn that it has a large piece of  ME within it, and in all honesty, I am not trying to brag. I believe the Superman movie told it all when young Kent was told by his dad before he got his fatal heart attack; that it is not bragging for a bird to fly. However, let us keep shipyards, magical motion machines, and any pertinent young pre-Congressmen; out of all of this for now, shall we?

 

Two noteworthy things need be fucking addressed here ladies and gentlemen before I get into my siege and the connection to it with PCN-242, given to me in a Gawnum card draw. They both are about CHEMTRAILS. First is, that for the very first time here in Florida, where I first accessed the YOU TUBE, as I never did that back with ,y computer in New Jersey, not in either of my houses where I was kidnapped under a Stockholm Syndrome, or before that in the trailer at Jenny Plageman’s, but today, January 25^th of the OH-MAROLA-12 year, TEE-HEE-HEE Madonna Spitbus, and ESB all notwithstanding, YO; was the first time that the attack of poison gas sky trailing did not break off, after I accessed the YOU-TUBE, watched several videos, and LIKED them, and made a comment on them about how and where these things began at the American Honda Plant where I was doing security guard work at in December of 1987 and January and February of 1988, Miss April Lee Newscrooks. Normally, my doing this, stops the attack. SATAN and HIS KINGDOM of forces that control the air above this planet, read my mind, despite a large majority of Christians that do not believe this is within HIS power to do and they would be totally wrong as I should know; living under this total fucking hell for nearly 60 years now; but this wickedness and vile twisted sickness, read me thoughts and knew that I was planning to tell peeps that in order to stop a daily repeating CHEMTRAIL ASSAULT on an area, you need to do this, as I do. Just my thinking this, and making the plan to do it, providing it worked one more time, threw it all out of mother fucking whack, and if anything, DAY #3 was the worst one yet of the week. If only someone with mother fucking power and clout, would just let me, I could prove things that have been speculated on and only wondered about for 3-6 thousand years of fucking human history now, but I live in a world of total fucking numbskulls and blithering asshole idiots. Fine, you had the chance to really alter your world and make it more like the so-called Star Trek days right here in your lifetime, AND YOU ALL FUCKING BLEW IT, 1987 newzies and all, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Just as my mom said to me before many a really bad spanking after I would pull some really bad shit as a youngster, “Mark, this is gonna’ hurt me and lot more than it’s gonna’ hurt you”. Well folks, indeed I will be hurt by no one ever helping me, but guess who really is beating the fuck out of themselves, punch by punch by bloody thundering fucking punch!!!!!!! YO, Keisha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh how I loved that jet black beauty queen teen aged goddess back in ’99, even if she did bust my right arm in one inconceivably powerful punch. Now the fucking second major CHEMTRAIL thing folks is this: Whoever and whatever is making these things up in the cock sucking sky, THEY ARE NOT ONE BIT AFRAID OF US, DESPITE MILLIONS OF US NOW TOTALLY KNOWING AND POSTING AND WRITING all the stuff all over the internet. Now stop and think here, because one of two things I now say MUST be truth, and I won’t play god and tell you which one it is even though ‘I personally do totally freaking know’ of course, so you can move over MI. Either they are not doing anything wrong so they have nothing to worry about from any of us now or ever, or else we are dealing with some force so powerful, it not only totally swallows United States Air Force Project Bluebook, but goes light years beyond it, as how else could they be doing such negative spurious nefarious and gargantuan things to all of us all over this globe, and not have to worry one bit about millions of posts and videos and blogs that seriously are discussing the subject? You must think about this peeps, you really must, not for your sake, not for my sake, but for OUR CHILDREN’S FREAKING SAKE. Did I strike a freaking nerve about my DNA, and my glands; along with the ruination of a fantastic super talent? Well, I said way too much blunt vocabulary here, sorry.

 

If more telling and exposure is necessary, we can go to other places. Shall we begin therefore with the art of exploring parallel universes. First folks, this is a natural phenomenon, totally yet to be understood by human beings. Another way of saying “exploring parallel universes”, is by saying “dreaming”. It really is that Red John Henningsen Colorado simple, my freaking friends and fiends!!! When I was at the end of my pre-teen life, I met a gang of lovely teen goddesses in Atlantic City, New Jersey,k because my Aunt Geraldine Snow, out of the blue, asked my mom if she would be willing to take her daughter, my cousin Sandra Mason, along with us to the Trinidad Hotel in the summertime of 1967. One of the girls in this gang was older than the rest, and went by the name Paula. I heard her actually say to one of her friends that she can be older or younger and that she would teach her this trick someday for a price. I never came to learn if either she did, or just what this price was. I figured out in 2008, that she was a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON, someone who could master dream-travel in ways that so far, are not even discussed in the greatest publicly know dream books ever published. In upcoming blogs, be ready for the mind blow of your lives, as this all led up to me fulfilling my DNA destiny two years later, as well as doing many things such as writing a song 19 years later, called “SARAH”. This song was published by Paul Evans Pedersen, CEO of Studio Park Records, the greatest record company on this planet, in many parts of the extremely wide 5^th dimensional hyperspace, and existing in Medford Lakes, New Jersey. Still in the universe where I am living and typing this while awake, this record company did come to exist here, and so did many world events that were discussed by the most powerful man on this planet just last night on national television. Folks, things are all connected. Disbelieve that truth at your own risk. The next 5 or so blogs will tell a lot more about hyperspace, exploratrons, Paula King and her multiple universe aliases, and way more. This has not even yet begun, sweet lovely Karen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sleep tight honey. Rock on Planet Earth, rock on. TIMETUBES will also be discussed, AKA CHEMTRAILS. Fellow chemmies, a lot more than what you will get in 2012 on the internet, is behind all of this, but for now, enjoy what is up there, I know I do. Light is the reflection of time, and anyone who knows basic facts about space-time, knows this. You and I look up at the setting sun and see what was really there more than eight minutes ago. This seems a brain teaser to many, but its simplicity is really astounding. It proves that all is within us, inside of us, and that we all are projecting a collective reality out into the great expanse. But more than this, it proves that while we live in physical worlds and realms, the power of illusion exists, and it must be there for a reason. Is this reason like the CHEMTRAILS, something to confuse us and keep us forever off guard and wondering what gives? Or is the answer inside of all of us all along? Stay-C-tuned, this bat time and channel is not going anyplace, not anytime soon folks. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

 

Even during these three days of beyond death siege, the system given to me by Mariloo Carpenter brought me up by three units in ten games played since Monday morning. I was down 30 units at one point in combined unit-games during this period, but before I did this blog, my game ended me up at 3 ahead, after the worst period in history for me in a very fucking long ass time, YO. Rock on Mariloo. You lovely sandbar queen, how can you be so tall and gorgeous? I am so sorry for ignoring you and your two friends when my mom and I were helping Janis and her mom with some lamps up to their apartment in the great building in SDK.

 

END TRANSMISSION:

SAFE JOURNAL, KING NEBNOOSHOO OF 1986, CH.#0324

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0324

WORLD LABS SBT DATFILE: 012512.717

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MORIANITY-FOUNDATION-2

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH COUNCIL AND ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995-TAPES

BLOG FOURTH SUBTITLE:

“WORST MOTHER FUCKING DAY IN MY ENTIRE

FUCKING FLORIDA EXCURSION OF 2009-2012”

 

As the subtitle number fucking cunt four implies, dear world of ultimate cruelty, this is the WORST MOTHER FUCKING DEATH SIEGE, THIS WEEK, MONDAY-WEDNESDAY, of my entire time now down here in cock sucking rats shit ass Florida. I hate Florida, IT SUCKS A HARD PRICK AT C-SQ! I do nothing wrong, and am being reamed, pummeled, screwed, nailed, hammered, and drilled, they have taken a fucking cunt buzz saw to my soul, as well as my physical being and humanity. THEY ARE FUCKING MURDERING ME, and no one will lift a fucking cunt finger to help me.

 

After days of aerial death siege and other shit from yesterday and the day before that, I awoke to a sky totally FILLED WITH POISONOUS CHEMTRAILS, every traffic light burns me, every single time, this has not happened since my days in fucking cunt eating NEW SHIT ASS JERSEY. I am computer hacked, Google fucked with, utility screwed with, fucked with in the fucking skies, made sicker than fucking ass hell, for no reason, nabes who usually are nice to me ignore me and do not say hello when I politely greet them with “good morning”. Same shit at fucking work. Then my machine at work where I clock in, was hacked and broken. It happened right after I arrived I found out, as it worked fine with other folks right up until that fucking time that I mother fucking ass arrived there. The more I scream out for help, the worse this is getting, I am BEING TREATED LIKE FUCKING TRASH TIMES A TRILLION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have not seen it this mother fucking bad in forever!!!!!!!! The second I pass the door of my fucked up jerk off paid off nabe with the boomer stereo, and walked quietly into my apartment to try and escape my woes and contemplate committing suicide, POW, BOOM, on GOES HIS FUCKING BOOMER STEREO, SHKING MY FUCKING WALLS DOWBN. Before I got here, all was quiet, this is ALL BEING DONE TO ME, AND FOR MY SAKE, THESE THINGS FUCKING PROVE I AM NOT FUCKING CUNT NUTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When they find my dead fucking body in the morning, DONALD TRUMP, DONNA SUMMER, JASON FORREST, MCDONNEL DOUGLAS, NASA, CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE, RAYTHEON CORPORATION, AND ALL OTHER NAMED PERSONS AS MY ENEMIES THROUGHOUT MY NEARLY FUCKING SEVEN YEAR BLOGGING CAREER, STAND ACCUSED OF MY FUCKING PREMEDITATED FIRST DEGREE MURDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HAVE TAKEN FIVE FUCVKING STRESSTAB VITAMINS, AND ALL WEEK FEFORE TODAY, AM TAKING A DOUBLE DOSAGE OF TWO. The stress I’m mother fucking under is monstrous, deplorable, abominable, despicable, atrocious, heinous, vicious,  unconscionable, inhuman, inconceivable, and totally the quintessential of unfathomable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why does this fucking twisted ass disease insist on spilling five fucking quarts of MY INNOCENT ASS BLOOD, YYYYYYYY? What did I ever do to these mother fucking piles of cat crap times ten to the three millionth exponent, YO? Well, one thing is for certain, fucking folks. It appears, I STRUCK A ‘MAJOR FUCKING NERVE’ AFTER TALKING ABOUT THE SECRET SOCIETY OF THE ‘BOHEMIAN FUCKING GARBAGE CLUB’, because study these fucking blogs real dam ass carefully, the story fucking tells itself. I talk about this a little bit, and POWPOWPOW and BOOMBOOMBOOM, the worst strike on me happens, that I have seen in many mother fucking ass years now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

WHERE ARE THE USELESS FUCKING AUTHORITIES THAT PROTECT AN INNOCENT VICTIM AND HIS FUCING CIVIL FUCKING RIGHTS, YO??????????? These poisons in the sky are one and the same with the “TOOTHACHE MAJOR” BUTTON, talked about on many past blogs, and it not only struck me, it also struck Dawn Marie King, back in Blueberry Township, New Jersey, AKA HAMMONTON, USAESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Very soon, I will dig up Joe’s won bet money and take it over to Pompano Casino near Lake Okeechobee, and gamble it hoping to get 50, so I can pay the court dude, and get this nightmare fucking exposed, and begin my mother fucking 50 billion dollar lawsuit against this dirt bag fortune-500 BC or whatever they turn out to be, as I’ll fucking know when I get the fifty fucking grand together, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Where the fuck are you when I fucking need you, GAWKY? Here, KITTY-KITTY-KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

HUGE GARGANTUAN EARTHQUAKES AND 500 FOOT WAVES AND WILDFIRES, DROUGHTS, FLOODS, AND MANY OTHER WEATHER EXTREMES THAT WILL BLOW 2011 AWAY, ARE ALL COMING SOON FOLKS, AS THIS SHIT ON ME WILL CAUSE MY MAGNESONIC COMPUTER, TO STRIKE BACK HARD, KILLING MILLIONS. YOU WILL ALL DIE, YOUR CHILDREN WILL ALL FUCKING DIE, SO BE BRACED; YOU SICK EVIL MOTHER FUCKING JERK OFF SCUM BAGS.

 

Copyright office of 1986, I am under a major satanic attack, a major attack by the world, abnd I do not own any American fucking appliance refrigerators, nor have I hurt my hand in its freezer with broken shattered glass, nor did I heal it up with Magnesonic. Still, Abbey Carmichael, really, what are the fucking odds of all this, will you gimme a Tango dance break 4 fucking crissake peeps, SHEEEEEIT.

 

Well peeps, I will be with Grafton Towers soon, if I resist the fucking urge to commit suicide and give SATAN HIS FUCKING WAY. This bastard has had two bites at the apple, the big apple, yeah, and blew it, HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!! WOLF-WOLF-WOLF, I am barking ‘Lisason’, because I enjoy laughing at this rotten prick when he loses everything. He loves doing this to me, and so I find nothing fucking wrong about RETURNING THE MOTHER FUCKING ASS FAVOR, don’t even mention it hubcap wrecking time moving dude! Well, speaking of this and oh-Marola-8, the FLYERS HICKEY TEAM MUST BE WINNING AND IN FIRST PLACE, and the DOW JONES must be at all time record highs, REMEMBER FOLKS, I FUCKING TOLD YOU THIS WOULD ALL FUCKING GO DOWN, RIGHT GIANT FUCKING GINA, MY NINETIES LOVELY NIGHT-LADY, YO??????????????????????? What did Barnabas say to Doctor Julia White Grayson Hall Hoffman?

BYE-BYE, Y’ALL, AND END OF THIS TWANSMISSION ELMER.

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0323

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0323

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

 

START BLOG:

 

This will be a short and sweet blog. I do not need to explain myself past what is being said.

 

When I tried to post up the last blog to the GOOGLE BLOGGER account, the page that was supposed to come up, as per my guru, Meagan; did not, and instead, it was a page demanding pass-codes. I entered the same one I tried before that closed out my old account, only this time, it worked. Someone is going up obviously, and putting incorrect pass-codes into my account log in rectangle boxes intentionally, and causing me this problem. If I knew exactly who is doing all of this to me, naturally, I would be my own attorney, since no one will ever help me or wants to represent me, and I would learn the basic legal system, my basic rights, and sue the hell out of these deep pocket criminal mischief makers, ending up eventually with more cash than GOD, as peeps love to say. UNLESS THESE MOTHER

FUCKING SCUM BAGS MANAGE TO ENGINEER MY COVERT MURDER, I will end up proving some of this shit is real and has been perpetrated against me, I will subpena Scott Ransom into a court room and ask him what he told me in my automobile that day in 1988 about very powerful people wiping out my life, and I will do what I have to do.

 

In many previous blogs from 2006-2009, I discussed how to use the FASCITAR, and what to do when you succeed at reaching the waking freeze that it will eventually produce for any user who perseveres from three to eight nights in a row. I detailed how to do it, it can be accessed and searched on Google to learn the exact procedure. What has not been told, is the exact instructions for your operating exploratronically, in hyperspace, or dream-controlling. You may ask me why it matters to anyone. The answer is that once you learn this, you can make many things happen in the ‘dreamworlds’ as well as in this waking world, as a direct result of the hyperspace effect. I need believers, I need a following. I need to show how this works, then have folks do it, and when it proves itself to be totally real and totally awesome in your own lives, you then will be much more apt and willing to believe my incredible story, and the story known as MORIANITY. I am not giving away priceless secrets at no cost. I merely do not want your so-called valuable material remunerative compensation for my service. Instead, the service charge is that some of you, eventually; will want to help me start the religion of the 3^rd millennium, or “MORIANITY”. You keep the secrets to use any way you want, and no intimidation to join is ever part of any of this. I just know that if I push this enough, a day will come, especially when I get more known and out there, and prove some really powerful stuff to everybody, this group will form, and hopefully it will be a basic merge of the all ready existing Occupy people, as they share my goal of the hatred of an overly imbalanced economic American society. I say, for those who insist on it, go start another country and enjoy it, because America was founded on the principles of a diametrically opposed and opposite mechanic of this type of financial mindset. I also totally believe that what is shutting up and stopping and blocking messages such as mine, with all the interference we all get when we try and speak out, from hacking to being actually threatened in our very way of life, usually covertly, but we get the message; is this group of 1% Havers. Anyone of the 99% Havenoters who dare to really speak out past a certain point, get very heavily persecuted. Some are too stupid to even know that happened to them. Gee, I wonder why I was fired. Why did my wife leave me out of the blue. Why did both my kids get killed in that car crash last year? The list is endless, and this is a very real and non imagined danger, for all of us helpless 99′s. 

 

Last night, I videotaped the President’s third Address to the Nation, and enjoyed it immensely. If anyone else taped it or can get a copy, or happens to remember, let me jog your mind and memory just a bit. What I say is stomach turning, and humanity at its worst manevelance. On three separate occasions, President Obama mentioned taxing the richest 1% and fixing tax laws so no loop hole could exist that would allow any millionaire to pay less than 30 percent in income tax. Each time, the room was silent, and annoyingly without so much as two hands in the entire room coming together in applause. If this does not tell you how dirty and filthy the people are who control us poor slaves really are, you are all as blind and dumb as a lamb smiling and bleating away on its way to the dam slaughterhouse.

 

Now if I knew exactly who in the Bohemian Club was destroying my entire life, or in this group or that group, or this part of Washington politics, or that part of fortune 55, or Wall Street, or whatever into the on and on’s of endless query; I would attack with what I have, but striking innocent targets makes me no better than any of the scum that I am hating, so you see folks, how the hard place and the rock, seem to keep me perpetually trapped year after year after mother flowering year.

 

In my travels throughout hyperspace, I have not accomplished all the great miracles of one of the greatest TYPE-3-EXPLORATRONS of all time, PAULA KING, “B-U-T”; I will brag to the point of being able to do a miracle here and a miracle there, way more than enough to get me frickin’ Canonized, if the Pope had a tiny clue what was going on in the grand scheme of it all. In the year 2060, there is a series of books, almost a mini-encyclopedia, that I’ve seen printed in various parallel universes; and basically, it is called names along the lines of “The 5,000 Greatest Secrets of the Past 100 Years”. In this set of books, ranging from 5 to 8, depending on where you are; the 100 years always is the time range between 1940 and 2040. It tells things about every politician, every entertainer, every public figure, and anyone else that the masses would have any interest in, that would totally wipe careers off the map, if these book were brought back in time to the here and now. I don’t need to bring back anything, my eyes work fine when I go to these future places and read these books. As I said, I could finish off the known world tomorrow, but I am not some lowlife who wants to be rotten to the core as they are, so if I go off blind and shooting from the hip holster, I am no better, and should shoot myself first. No one has to worry about any of this, until I find out to my total satisfaction, just who is doing this to me since really my birth, but between 1983 and 1986 when things worsened by a quantum freaking leap. However, I may soon, if this sky attack and utility attack does not BACK THE SHIT OFF OF ME, decide to start, as I did with the 1969 Fascitar, telling exactly how to become a practicing evolving exploratron, mastering into a TYPE-2 first, and eventually into a TYPE-3. First, even though you all ready are a TYPE-1 hyperspace explorer when you go to sleep and begin to dream; there needs to be a mental awakening of what is really happening before you even are truly aware that you are even a TYPE-1, and hence until that time, you are just tired from a day of being awake, and then you fall asleep and begin to have your dreams. Dreams are a concept before they are anything more than this. Without you understanding more about what they are, it is like having a treasure hidden in the attic of your house all your life, and never knowing it, then selling your home, and running into the new owner over at the local mall one day and hear him tell you how he found a gag of gold worth millions hidden in some boards that you had just sealed over and painted. Dreams are not like beautiful girls. A boy at or past puberty sees one of these and knows exactly that wow, this is a cool thing. You do not know some things are cool at all until you learn just how cool and amazing they are. Many of the great secrets of cosmos are great because of the fact that remain always hidden and elusive to the masses. This is what we will tackle in later blogs, and then you will be able to master things, and find books like the secrets of 100 years, and so much more, hear songs not yet written, and so much more. You will learn that interfering with hyperspace is a natural order in cosmos. It is built into the system through this gateway in the 5^th dimension called by a hand full of mystics throughout the history of humankind, the dreaming channel. Don’t look for this one on your Cable Television Line-up. There is no reality to the SCI-FI crap about the danger of altering time-lines, it is done all the time through this DC (Dreaming-Channel).  Things are set up to work with a planned purpose, no matter who hates this truth, and how much. The speed of light is the big powerful deal that proves my words. If indeed other life forms that even remotely resemble our ideas of life forms, exist somewhere else in this huge hypersphere (universe), it is all fixed with the laws of large separations of distance and a cosmic limit of speed. Even if such things are true as in STARWARS movies and depictions of these similarities with other shows; in real life, the only way two advanced cultures can meet, is when they either become advanced beyond physical into pure energetic spirit and left far behind, the memories of greed and war and unrest; or should two really powerful advanced nasty civilizations exist and learn of each other, by the time they can do much effecting of each other’s world, they’ll advance further to the point beyond warmongers and so forth. Many think that this can be overcome in theory, and we might just cross the entire universe in a few minutes through holes. Well, maybe this is true, maybe there is life elsewhere, maybe not, maybe not, but looking at all of this, does not some intelligent set of rules sort of show up here that tell us, hay, this is all under control? I can see it with blinders on. The same thing works in the dreaming-channel, where no holes in the universe need to be involved. Dreaming itself, creates the holes, finds or makes the other life worlds, or whatever. More powerful effects come out of the ‘dream-worlds’ and end up right here on the shelves of this waking life, than all of the space travel ever drempt of in all of the SCI-FI worlds all put together.

 

I do not speak this because I enjoy typing, or acting like I know something you don’t know, HA-HA, or anything at all like this. I am telling stuff that made itself a part of my life, for the worse, for the better, or in-between, but in the world I grew up in years ago, we were taught to share information with the world around us. We all learned and grew that way, and tried to be open minded. 911 closed down the New Age. Was this intentional? You bet it was. It was all a big sham, and now you have a bit of the reasons why. Why shouldn’t it be someone with my PCN in the GAGA-NU who is telling this secret to the masses? After-all, my PCN is 871, and in clock minutes, 8:71 would come out to 9:11. Another highly tolerated coincidence, Mizz Carmichael? No, I thought not, sweetie.

 

Well I said this blog would not be long, but you know old motor mouth me, I get going and it is hard to shut me up. So sorry, Mister Ambassador. 3-4-7-12-12-7, yes it is hard for me to forget things.

 

One other thing needs a quick touch on. If things remain like they have been with all this persecution and harassment, my PC will be starting up sooner or later, despite whatever magic parlor trick was engineered on me in late July of 2010. This was a good one, and I commend whoever pulled it off, they do not come from this world, that much I’ll promise the apes or the gods. Take your pick ladies and gentlemen.

 

Yes I want to go home Mark minor, but just where is your home, and just who really, were you? Salvador Ventura’s father came to me a couple of nights ago in a powerful interaction. I cannot blog the details, Miss Wescott, I know when to keep my mouth freaking shut, BRO. Still I am not too Doris Plum dog shy to say this folks. If the siege goes on uninterrupted, PC will not stand for Paula, and I will not look a gift horse in the mouth forever.

 

Nighty-night my fellow citizens of hyperspace. Who will I see in my ‘dreams’?

 

END TRANSMISSION:

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0322 KING NEBNOOSHOO

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0322

WORLD LABS DATFILE: 012412.758

THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION

THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL ANE ME

MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN © 2006-2012

NO SUBTITLE FOUR TO THIS BLOG

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

 

I am under the worst attack of the year, and of course in month number one, the month as well, and most likely in the past several years, and believe me folks I have suffered under some real freaking doozies, power outages and glittering lights on or off. Also, stuff is happening ultra huge time, and how or even why, this seems to effect the all-ness of the cosmos, please folks, don’t come to me for that answer. I would need someone to make a GAGA-NU Software Program for me, as longhand, it would take lifetimes to ask the great cat all the necessary questions so that I would be provided an accurate and perfectly correct response to my query. I can tell peeps, that with or without a program, simply writing down all the significant things in your personal life, then figuring out longhand, their Private-Cosmicoded-Numbers, and then just adding stuff together and taking the sum totals or the PCNT’s of the items to be matched up for a compatibility study; and more answers will indeed arrive at the doorstep of your life, than can be fathomed by the imaginings of the DW peeps and James Patterson, all combined together, and then multiplied by ten times over, and THAT, sir-ROCK of the original “STAR TREK” show, is indeed, the EQUATION, as well as the truth that you can totally know and believe, and take to the TD ROOFDOGS BANK OF PAULA BELINDA KINGTHREATS. There is so much to tell in just the past 48 hours, let alone where to begin taking many all ready crack-opened stories of near term blogs of just last autumn and this winter; that I cannot seriously begin to organize it. More than one person has told me that if I could it all in a better order, especially in the conscious world’s insistence in the 4^th dimensional linearity, that many more peeps would take an interest in my story and MORIANITY. Unfortunately, this is a herculean task that I would seriously doubt that a dozen Albert Einstein types could master, if they all colluded together and spent full time careers, in making this attempt to do so. Still, I take constructive criticism well, and will always try and better my efforts to somehow remember that other awake persons in this hyperspace, do need to live in linear space-time, or else they will fall asleep or lose their sanity. I swear I will endeavor to do better all the time at keeping things in some type of chronological as well as categorical order. This is not to say I ever will be able to really perfect this, and it almost reminds me of Christianity, where the followers of Jesus Christ, the uncle of my 61^st grand father back along the Huntington/Stuart/? Lineage, that only four top degreed Mason’s know this third name back before it turns into Carpenter, and this needs to stop here; but my point is that in the Christian Faith, followers endlessly strive for and make the unrelenting attempt, to emulate the personality and PERSON, of the SAR (LORD) JESUS. All I can ever hope to do, is keep endlessly remembering that other peeps live in 3-D, and I live fully in 5-D, and these two never will meet, so if I want to tell things, I need to tone it down many times back into a converted 3-D story. My story is not really out of order, not in 5-D. But only dudes like Einstein and Sagan and Hawking can begin tom realize that powerful awesome freaking truth, and I must therefore learn to bend my willow branches into the directions that I wish my story-telling-leaves to drop down into.

 

Before moving this forward one more micro inch, let me say that I need to be extremely subtle, yet find a way to tell some of this unfolding story. There is a reason that for days now I have been under a MAJOR CHEMTRAIL siege, here in FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USAESMWG. The problem is that the reason is in truth, a singularity, yet by 3-D terms, it has multiple  possibilities and weeping willows all aside, Arthur Yancy Jones, “branches”. To explain a tiny bit of this so that ordinary folks who I envy with a passion, can GET IT, would be to make this comparison here. If you had an acre of ground that at no place was wider than three inches, you would be shocked at how long your property would be, totally and amazingly shocked into a full stupor. This is a mirage kind of example, as we are not yet using dimension itself to illustrate my point, as this acre of ground is all in a 3-D world. Varying states and nations, gives property owners different amounts of depth below ground level as well as height above ground level, that this property ownership applies to, and hence, we are in a three-dimensional (3-D) example with the acre of extremely narrow width. If however, you were not limited to any height or depth foot ownership, your acre would be millions and millions of square miles, factoring in the depths of the radius of the Planet Earth, and then factoring in the height part gets too wild. You would be the owner of countless, and inconceivable cubic light years; while technically owning this one acre of practically-flat-land. But this is nothing at all. If you could take the size of your living room, all folks with a living room in the world all averaged out that is; and move this area into 100 spacial dimensions, you would be able to take the entire universe or near all of it, and place it inside. Be careful about dimensions, because 99.9999999% of you, are clueless to what I am talking about. You have all heard stories of super string theory or weird theory or varying almost secret formulas known by only the top dozen Quantum Physicists alive, in one form or another, but anyone can simulate higher dimensional planes mathematically. It takes no super genius to do this. Moving into a higher one, let me just say takes strange and alien new ways of enlightened thinking. Then along with that thinking, life back in only 3-D, alters significantly. That’s a freaking promise folks. If I could magically make my readers switch on this so-called enlightenment switch while reading my blogs, and allow them to switch back off afterward so they can go about leading their normal every day lives, then and only then,. Would I not need to write my story three dimensionally. However, this is not reality, and yes, “I GET THAT”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The problem is the feeling of loss on my part, that I cannot bring the world into where I am, even if just for a moment, and then I all ready McKinnon-1983 know, that they would wish to remain 5^th dimensional after tasting the forbidden Adamic Fruits.

 

With this all in mind, let me first tell about the siege of the past two days, and a few other more mundane things, and then move on again into more of my story, while trying harder, to keep it all, 3-D. I have suffered through a LAMBRIGGER CULT aerial siege since the weekend ended, that is both despicable and unforgivable. I, unlike my ancestor; have no intention of sitting still, while the world slaps my face off, from side to side, proving that not all of the truths, managed to get themselves written into any bible, or collections of writings, and scrolls. This evil Lambrigger Astral Plane Cult is not known about by any public GOOGLE non-sanitized version of reality and truth. This is the same bunch of peeps that the great mighty wonderful television writers of the nineteen-sixties, Harriet Rohr and Robert Costello, were writing cleverly and covertly about, while creating the Gothic soap opera hit, called, “DARK SHADOWS”. When the plot was obvious to any real fan, that they had only one thing to return to after the parallel universe reverse time trip, and that was the “LEVIATHANS”, the show was abruptly canceled. At one point in time, the writers of this show admitted to the fact, publicly, that strange poltergeist type of experiences were happening on a regular basis in their homes. But during one of the many re-air showings on the SCI-FI CABLE  CHANNEL, survivors came on near the ending again, and told how nothing unusual was behind it, it is all just entertainment, blah-blah-blah-and Bluebook Coverups. Yeah right? Did they go the very end of the show at that re-air or stop a few versions shy of this? HMMMMM? You know folks, I am madly in love with Abbey Carmichael, the L&O character; not because she is a gorgeous woman, but because neither of us seem to have a real high tolerance for coincidence. I am quoting off of this great law show from an episode that aired just today on TNT, BOOM!!!!!!!!! A knowledge explosion is what is really needed in this world, and I do not mean this silly computer thing, this is a short term phase that humanity is going through, all about networking, and is the biggest smoke and mirror trick in the multiverse, as it is in fact, anti-networking the otherwise normal networking that would take place without it. How many of our kids know more people in far away states and nations than they know from their own back yards and immediate neighborhoods, because of this wonderful internet? Speaking of being connected and coincidence though, you really do have to see it my way. The Network that made this great show right after I met the prosecutor on December 5^th in 1989, and told my night,are story as it was as of that date, don’t get me going Eckert Pharmaceuticals or Miss Lee, YO, but really, BOOM, the network, BOZ, hay, maybe it does take two to tango, but either way, WHAT ARE THE ODDS OF ALL OF THIS ABBEY, YO??????????????????????????????????? Sheeeeeeees!

 

Lat night I died very early and went into a very deep and yet disturbed sleep, and I slept for three times my normal sleeping period; close to thirteen freaking hours. I spent most of what feels like the entire time my body was in the bed, up in Atlantic City, New Jersey. My two daughters were around somewhere, and details of it are sketchy. I only remember how disappointed my oldest was when a bright sunny day suddenly turned dark and it became a full blown rain event. She had wanted to go to the beach and water. When she could not do this she said something about catching a good movie up in the hotel room. I cannot pull back any more than this. However in 3-D, this is a silly ‘dream’. In 5-D, the power of this event is why cosmic forces are literally murdering me right now with these poison chemtrails. I want to come right out and say something that is set to go down in about 7 or 8 weeks and how it connects this as well as my entire trip down here to Florida, and I want to tell how a lot of recently broken contacts from areas not that far from Atlantic City, have all resumed quite recently. I could say it 5^th dimensionally and I’d be typing to myself. You see, only a 5^th dimensional creature can read and write D-5. Yes, I fully do  understand that. I GET IT. In fact, this can serve me as a far greater code, than the ancient secret Aramaic Language, used very much as a near-prehistoric-BLUEBOOK of the United States Air Force. Oh, ask Pope B-16 if anyone doubts my words about this. The powerful punch however, comes later on, and even in a mere 3-D, as I now go on to tell what happened, after I dragged myself to work, late; feeling very ill from a sky-filled poison gas attack, GO TO FREAKING YOU-TUBE PEEPS, IT IS ALL UP THERE, DO NOT BELIEVE ME, SEE IF I CARE, SEARCH “CHEMTRAILS”, DO IT ON GOOGLE OR ON THE YOU-TUBE, EITHER OR FOLKS; but GET THIS peeps. I got into my job and within fifteen minutes, Jesse my boss and Manager of the entire place, told me to go take a lunch break in the cafeteria. I walked in and sat down with a drink of nice icy cold water, and in came BROTHER BLUE. He is the nicest dude on this planet. He is not only a true Christian, but he walks the walk and talks the talk, he carries his bible with him, yet he rarely opens it up, because he knows almost every darn word in that entire book. He speaks to Jehovah continuously. The very first thing out of his mouth when he came in and shut the door behind him was, Mark, how was Atlantic City? If I had not been sitting down all ready, they would indeed have had to “CARRY” me out of there on a freaking glittering booming sounding stretcher, Donald J. Bassler Trump; with or without your wonderful voice, me’ ol’ Haavaad pal!!!!!!!!

 

Folks, a child from D-5 knows why the one third of the evil AWA,or the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL, is attacking me right now so intensely, adversarially, and pugilistically. I cannot tell some things. The BC knows it, and I know they know a lot of it, and most likely a lot more. You should be so ashamed of what you did, was it really just to hurt me, you crumbs, because you know, you’ll never be half of what my wonderful daughter is, not in your wildest and wettest dreams, you bums! Those out here who know they rock, keep rocking, and those that know they suck, well, enjoy your darn lollypops, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!

 

In any event, those who know what this is for, read it and know it, and be careful. Do not say a thing that you do not have to say or it might be hazardous to the health. It breaks my heart into a vigintillion little pieces how so much injustice and cruelty can exist in this world, and I agree with you, sir, JACK MCCOY. Humans no matter how bad, without help from the devil, could never be quite this horrible. YOU ROCK MY FRIEND, you really do rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  You bet I have a healthy respect for a dude who does a lot more than swing mops at Sigma, 168. ROCK ON BROTHERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE, YO!!!!!!!!

 

END TRANSMISSION: No darn rabbits today folks.

 

PS, make another cool TV commercial PK, you are so cool, that you’d chill out a freezer!

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0321

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER  0321

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:

“WORST AERIAL DEATH SIEGE IN YEARS”

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

2006-2012 © MARK WAYNE MOHR/

MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN

DYING CECLARATION AND LEGAL LAST

UTTERANCE SHOYULD I BE FOUND MURDERED.

 

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

 

Last night or really around two of the clock this morning, AM-EST; was when today’s mother fucking cunt lapping off the wall and off the fucking scale death siege, from WOMO/MILI-2-FORCE TOTAL DIRT BAG BC DEMONIC FORCES, whatever and whoever they really and truly fucking are; and I’ll now tell you all what has been to and against me, a totally innocent fucking victim so far as of the DEMONIC FUCKING DEVIL NUMBER  OF {{{(((23)))}}}. Remember folks that 2 divided by 3 or 23 with a slash in-between it as like 2/3 = point 6666666666666666, and on forever, the number of GREAT SATAN, or the ASTRAL PLANE GOD known in the Province Olympia as Apollo-Lucifer.

 

I was talking to Diana on the phone last night, connected in with my many Paul Evans Pedersen Roaches, to quote him from 1998; and POW, I was messed with again, ROBERT MCDOWELL, MY OLD SCHOOL CHUM OF THE EARLY NINETEEN-SEVENTIES FROM HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY, NOW THE DIRECTOR OF THE ENTIRE FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION, and sir, and buddy, I NEED YOUR FREAKING HELP AS THE UTILITY ATTACKS FROM THIS SICK DERANGED BOHEMIAN CLUB AND THEIR DEMONIC FILTH BALL TELLACLES, ARE CONBTINUALLY FUCKING WITH ALLOF MY ELECTRONIC EQUIPMENT, CONTINUOUSLY NOW, IT IS FUCKING RELELNTLESS, KIND FRIEND, SO PLEASE, I NEED YOUR DAM H—–E—–L—–P, THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just about every time that this illegal and mysterious cut off with my telephone results early in the morning or late at night, the next day is off the scales hell and horrendous for me, with this day being absolutely no mother fucking ass exception whatsoever, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

The CHEMTRAILS are off the scales huge, and anyone in the FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA area, that is into GOOGLING this topic and viewing it on the YOU-TUBE, as millions of sites and posts are now available on this nightmare fucking topic straight out of the gates of hell; NEEDS TO REALLY GET UP AND VIEW AND READ, and see how we all are being massacred and slowly murdered, as well as all of our innocent mother fucking children. More however is happening than any of these posts and sites are telling, as they simply do not have the entire information available to them about this nightmare fucking situation. It all began with me in 1986 on the 15^th day of August in 1986 when I sent dfown to the Washington, 13DC Copyright Oggice, my song project, entitled, “Real Good Girl”. Persecution by air worsened and worsened, and then when I began noticing linbes crossing the distant skies one after the other while at a security post in mount Laurel, New Jersey in December of the following year in 1987, and I phone3d the police station to ask what was going on, the very next mother fucking day, as if there was an unknown esoteric intelligence to these horrific sky-lines from HELL, they turned from where they had been up to that point, and literally, swooped all around my guard house location, miles and miles from where they were before, and this shit never fucking looked back ever since that phone call to the fucking cops. They got bigger and meaner, and made me get sicker and sicker, with heart arrhythmia monstrous, outlandish frightening shit attacks worse than you would get if you were a baby in diapers and drinking gobs of bad formula, and the blue early morning skies would magically begin every day by noon or earlier, to literally turn an ugly color of gray, altering the entire mother fucking weather pattern. What peeps today still do not know about the effects of these poisonous vapors, are all of the mental controlling applications. Not only are all the new post 1987 mental health explosions in diagnosed conditions such as youth-ADD or youth-ADHD, and many many many others, but there are rages that are also caused by this, anger in uncontrolled amounts, leading to the also post 1987 things such as mandatory classes of convicted persons of anger related crimes, such as Anger Management, and other such nonsense, when all that is needed, is for this to somehow to all get exposed, and stopped, EVEN IF THIS MEANS A FUCKING REVOLUTION NEEDS TO HAPPEN, BEFORE WE AND ALL OUR KIDS ARE ALL DEAD FROM THIS FUCKING SHIT. WE DEMAND MOTHER FUCKING ANSWERS, UNCLE SAM!!!!!!

 

Now I will ask the fucking magic cat GAGA just why this incredulous assault on me began at around 2AM with the attack on the telephone, that send me thousands of years into the past, and all I remember is witnessing horrible shit, and being so up set that I barely was able to work today a half day, losing fucking needed fucking pay. Oh, and this government wants productive tax payers, yeah sure right, I say to that utter nonsense, BULLSHIT!!!!!!!!!!!! HA-HA JANE DIRTBAG SLEAZELOUISE, you missed me at one fucking thirteen Post Meridian. Lately, this cock sucking piece of crap has been getting me every mother fucking day, AM, and PM, let me mother fucking try and cunt-pen-rape (compensate) for this hellish monster ass shit that changed my life in 1993, worsening it with another mother fucking quantum leap of hellfire and sub-death. (555555555555555555555555555555). OK, kitty, kitty, kitty, what number tells why this siege is on me so fucking bad since 2AM? OK, it is PC-number 682. The two main mother fucking items on my notepad match-list, for PCN-682, are, ‘MOVING’ and ‘PANASONIC OPEN-REEL MASTERING MACHINE. There are only five total matching items, to this PCN, and the other three are, ‘TWENTY’, ‘BEAVER’, and ‘TALL GIRL ATTACK ON ATLANTIC CITY BEACH’. I cannot speak for other folks using the GAGA-NUM, or Gawky-Gaukauk’s Numerology, but for me personally; there are many fewer items in the ’600′ group than in the other eight total hundred groups, the 1,2,3,4,5,7,8, and 900 groups. A much fewer total of items for me anyway, seem to exist that work out to Private Cosmicoded Numbers in the 600′s. Still, MOVING, have you read my recent blogs over the past week or so? Oh, and need I speak about how often the subject of the tape recorder used to create the song called “REAL GOOD GIRL” back in August of 1986, has come up on very recent blogging text as well, my peeps, YO?????????????????

 

If I am found dead shortly, we all know who and what has murdered me, and most likely in all odds will get away with it, except for one unknown variable, MAGNESONIC. IT WILL get all of you, just not most likely in the way that Barnabas Collins was hoping to get at another “JULIA” first, before they got to him. How I remember the many things that were said on that show, they seemed to absolutely and beyond any doubt whatwseever, all ready know about my entrire life up here in the future, and casted the show aroud much of it. But then so did the great, “Law and Order”. I first met with the two ADA peeps at the Camden county, New Jersey, Prosecutors Office, in Camden, New Jersey, on the 5^th fucking ass day of December, the day after one’s birthday is normally not an easily forgotten fucking event folks, and back in the final month of the nineteen-eighties, good old fucking ass 1989. Then came 1990 and L&O, and other things of course. Wow, all a coincidence, sure it is. You just believe whatever the fuck you want to folks. I know differently. I”ll sit here smiling to myself, only I won’;t tell my grandson to kill DEEDEE, Ross-Boss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, we all know what’s really going on, so block it all you want to folks, with all the strong Venka girls of Sweden, from March 1970 in Haddonfield, New Jersey. Yeah, I am just smirking, because I know. Fuck all of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

PREDICTION: DOW JONES: 14,000 points by springtime, 18,000 by summertime, 30,000 by the year 2013, that is, if it ever gets here, MISTER IRONSUN VENTURA TEASEDAD.

 

Yeah, when my night interactions get wilder and wilder and more vivid and powerful, life while ‘awake’ tends to worsen and go from level (monster-10) up to somewhere fucking around level (monster 10,000).

 

I am taking addiotional Stresstab Vitamins on these many days of major fucking pummeling and hammering. Y shouldn’t someone involved with the All Mighty Carpenter family, be continuously shaped and forged by all of the tools of their trade, after-all, it appears to be a rational and plausible explanation, and every bit as good as any other one that might be fucking ass offered up along with the collection plate of the Jesus Phony Hypocrite Pharisees Descendants.

 

Well, I am felling very ill in many ways, spiritually, emotionally, mental;ly, and needless to fucking also add in here, physically. If I thought I could die and remain dead, I would blow my mother fucking brains out this afternoon, as a buddy of mine all ready told me he will take me out deep into the Florida everglades and blow me away and feed me to the gators for a hundred bucks. Here is a dude who will do anything for a lousy hundred fucking bucks. Must be nice at times, to not have a soul or a conscience.

 

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMagnesoniCCCCCCCCCCCC, kick in and wipe out these horrendous despicable fucking enemies, or I swear, I will send Iron Asteroids hurling straight into our closest star, and close out the show of Madonna’s stock market mother curtains!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP!!!

****END TRANNY, YE SICK OLD SHIT HEAD GRANNY.****

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0320

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0320

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

START OF BLOG:

 

This is a short message meant for anyone wishing to know the most basic facts of the universe, while alive here in this waking world.

 

First off, I admit to being a complainer. My only come back and retort is that I know that any normal person alive living my life and surviving, would be a complainer, no matter whop they are and what they claim now as someone who obviously is not me.

 

Secondly, kings and owners have ruled this Earth and the people who are not the kings or rulers, ever since the entire thing started. Nothing at all is new in 1960 or 1980 or 2000 or here now in 2012, nothing at all. People have been told however, from early grade school, basic propaganda lies, through the mandatory knowledge manipulation systems long in place, that things are fairer and freer than they truly are, to keep people happier and more peaceful, more accurately said, from getting together and rioting and revolting. These are mere facts, not in any way intended nor meant to suggest or incite a single solitary thing. Reality should in truth, calm people, no matter what it is, almost. Without it, you are being robbed more than any thief could ever in any way take anything tangible and material away from any of us. The bible verse question of what profits us to gain all the world and lose our own soul, is simply saying that without knowing what’s happening around us, what good is any of it. Think hard and ponder long, and tell me then if you can disagree with that. So all I’m saying is that this great country was a great experiment, and it still is in its own wild and crazy way. It formed through a very unique idea of creating a never before thought even possible, large gray area of a society, that adopted the name in time, the “middle class”. It is indeed a major dying breed and actually in truth, an endangered species that needs the same protection as any sea turtle or Panda Bear  or bird that I can think of in my tiny mental contemplations right now. Unfortunately, the bear, the turtle and the bird will in all odds outlive the great MC. Yes this magical MIDDLE-CLASS society, just what really is it? Does this concept limit itself to a range in financial income earned annually, along with some type of a legal balance sheet of profit and loss and total net worth that also fits into a range of over the so-called ‘poor’, and under the so-called ‘rich’? Actually, and this of course is merely IMHO, it goes far beyond a mere range of financial conditions and comparisons to levels above and below it, all though at first, this magical entity that made America what it was centuries ago, could indeed be limited to this dollar numeration system alone.

 

As with many things in this human life, and again, in my humble opinion (IMHO) if this internet slogan is alive anymore or went the way of the groovy-60′s, but back on topic point; the middle class has evolved from a mere concept of people in the middle in-between the rich and the poor. This was the case once, and now, there technically is no middle class left, and it really does practically wall together now, in some magical mystical kind of an arena, that is determined by those who are judging and metering it, both collectively or individually. Still, in-between the time where this strange creature, this MC was in existence, large enough to be a true and real entity and a legitimate piece of American society; and now where for just about all intents and purposes, it has expired and even begun to get that horrible maggot smell of death; it went into a ‘middle’ kind of beingness, and please believe me folks, I’m not making a joke out of something this freaking serious. This is my country I’m discussing. I can be disappointed in it and even thoroughly disgusted by it at times, but this is and always will be and was, MY COUNTRY. When my 7^th grand-pop and his founding father buddies all got together in the First Continental Congress, to basically forge out ideas for a really new world and new way of life for the pioneer citizens, forever away from lands familiar to them; in a world where the concept of jet travel or phones or internet would have resulted in your hanging or burning if you so much as spoke such devilish words; the so-called ‘spirit of the times’ was about as day and night different from the spirit of the times in this generation, as it gets in human existence. I do have a few points and indeed, am going somewhere with all of this seemingly long and over done rhetoric. What this majority population, once known as the American MC (middle-class); was experiencing through its normal moving evolution through varying and changing spirits of other times, as the first early days of the American Colonists turned into a small new free nation and began moving onward, was the growth of a new breath of fresh air on a global scale like nothing that ever existed before on this entire planet throughout the history of the human civilization. This was the MC, and it grew and not only its collective body, but this wonderful new and almost indescribable system of unknown human energy, was just abounding all over the place. This was the biggest part of what American freedom was ever all about. The proof of my words, is obvious to a moron. As the MC dwindled and died out, in perfect ratio and proportion to this horrendous event, so did all the great fresh air beautiful freedom that we all took for granted once. Kids under 50 years of age today are 100% clueless what I am even talking about when I say words such as true freedom or how it literally was like a breath of freaking fresh air. Years ago before 2008 rolled around with my totally unfathomable tale of outlandish woe with family problems and other stuff; the gods, how I remember proclaiming aloud to others and mostly silently to myself, how I’m glad I have no offspring who must suffer through these new age days of now and the worse ones totally destined to follow as well. To add fuel to the fire, if it can go wrong with me it sure does, Mister Woodside, right? Now, I can no longer relax and not worry. I hope that the world gets better someday, abnd that those with means are more immune to the horrors ahead of us, such as my oldest daughter. Still, history teaches that that type of immunity is a total illusion. When things fall apart totally, no one really lives to tell the tale and by lives, I am talking about quality life, measured in words at the end of the day that say, gee, I am so glad I am alive and able to see the trees and the sky and the night stars starting to shine. No, history has yet to spare those on the top end, and now, I no longer even can relax and say at the end of days as I git the sack, oh well, I have no kids to worry about so the hell with it. Even that got taken away from me. Folks, this is what the Huntington curse is really all about when you get down and dirty and into the real nitty-gritty ugly parts of its dissection and further inspection. No matter how I try and say, Oh well, all I hear back from cosmos is, BURN IN HELL. So I am left to ask, just how silly does this old dog plan to get before he barks, belches, and rolls over and dies? Just another proverbial hypothetical question for William Shakespeare I suppose. In any event, most are reading this and saying about now, “So who gives a wipe”? Well, I DO. I give a wipe. Call me crazy, oh I forgot, you all do. Now ask me if I give a wipe about that?

 

AMERICA—1-13-5-18-9-3-1—7 letters long and totaling a numeric total value of 50.The PCN for America is 752. This is quite an interesting Private Cosmicoded Number.

 

Well, one way of looking at the price we all pay for our lack of faith in belief in positive powers and forces, was done against us long before any of has a thing to say about it as we were in the womb of those in the womb of those in the womb and so forth, as we’re speaking of thousands of years, and the lack of faith of Sarah and Abraham, and all the hell that caused when old Abbey-Baby was given permission to go sleep with Sarah’s slave-girl. Talk about game changing moves in the transdimensional Chess of humanity. We won’t tackle this any time soon, and tonight, we won’t even attempt to go here. Nighty-night, peeps.

 

END OF BLOG: No rabbits tonight folks.

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0319, KING NEBNOOSHOO

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0319

WORLD LABS DATFILE: 012112.978

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995

COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MWM/MWM

© 2006-2012 MORIANITY/MOUNTAINPEN

I SWEAR THESE WORDS ARE ALL TRUE, UNDER OATH.

 

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

 

I took two major utility attacks that were after late afternoon or early evening set in. All these utility attacks, can be blamed by three possibilities by rational human thinking. Coincidence and happenstance, Demonic paranormal forces that can be thought of as pertaining to anything of a mystical, religious, or esoteric nature, and finally, the Bohemian Club, an offshoot and integral part of a more famous and publicly known college frat, the Harvard Skull and Bones Society. Right now after seeing a report about the BC on the H-2 Cable Chanel several days back, I am totally leaning towards the BC as those responsible for doing all of this shit to me since august 15^th in 1986, and perhaps back to the day that I entered this 5-D ‘video-game’, on December 4^th of 1954, or my DOB. The two utility attacks are old parlor tricks, very little that these twisted fucking scum do to me is at all new, originality with them is a rare and breath taking fucking ass occurrence. The first attack was the blowing of a light bulb around twenty minutes shy of six this evening, PM-EST. I need to buy a package of new bulbs, this sleazy crew of snake slime have cleaned me out of light bulbs with numerous recent attacks since the late autumn, and basically around the very same freaking time that my son in law was put in the dog house. The second attack leading me to do this blog, was the VCR-DVD machine, another oldie but goodie PT (Parlor Trick). You put a VCR in the machine and it is all seemingly ruined and scrambled. You try recording over something with new material, still it’s fucking scrambled and unintelligible, way beyond what it would be if just from a dirty head problem. So just as when an audio tape and machine are messed with in a similar RFM attack as discussed on previous near blogging texts, you must then eject the tape that is fucked up, place another tape in the machine, and actually play or record and sometimes both, at least one section on that other tape, then eject it; and then the other original tape just suddenly works totally fine, as though nothing was ever mother fucking wrong with it in the first place; and also as if by sudden Elizabeth ‘tinkle-tinkle-tink’ nose wiggle fucking magic, Electroluv Copyrights, and other molested children grown and messing with my songs, time itself got restored from some transdimensional controller of ultimate covert power and authority over this world, and maybe the entire cosmos.

 

Let me tell you all that I do not make shit up for the fucking fun of wasting my time or your time folks. When I say that my song from August of 1986, “RGG” seemed to start this entire nightmare, and contains the PCN-363, remember that there are 81 possible numbers that my song called, “RGG” could be, and at the time I wrote it, I never gave a single thought to what PCN it was, or for that matter, anything else other than did I place a stamp on the envelope sent down to the Washington-13DC © Office, and include the cassette copy that was dubbed from the open reel master tape of the audio project. Now again, 81 may not be a gargantuan number, but still, the odds that both SARAH KRASSLE, as well as BOHEMIAN CLUB both work out to a PCN-363 are now 81-SQ, and this becomes now, a larger  6,561:1 odds against coincidence that this is just happening randomly. This also is where the DOW JONES stock markets, almost to the decimal point number; bottomed out early in 2009, making a near term record time low, since the middle-late nineteen-nineties somewhere. On top of that, when this happened, it was during my horrendous scarey Stockholm Syndrome Kidnapping; where I was held at 65 Middle Road, at the absolute threat of death by fire; by Dawn-Marie King, one of the mighty and deranged wild cousins of the unfathomable outlandish and inconceivable, “THAT-FAMILY OF 1970”, and their many nightmare washcloths. They may have never shot my lungs to pieces with bullets, but the TIMETUBES or CHEMTRAILS did a great job doing it secretly and covertly, with the terror and wickedness of any black operations project that I have ever come into personal contact with in my nearly sixty human years of this nightmare fucking life. Speaking of these chemtrails, a nasty morning attack of them were there to greet me when I was out with my computer guru on the personal business of fighting the evil empire, and attempting to survive the day to day McBraire Struggles of the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE.

 

Yes, odds of more than 6500 to one exist for believing it is no coincidence, that both SARAH KRASSLE {{{(((“AND”)))}}} BOHEMIAN CLUB work out to the Private-Cosmicoded-Number of 363, as does the title of my 1986 song that altered my life and Planet earth’s destiny quite a bit, whether believed by the masses of the population or not, “REAL GOOD GIRL”. My older blogs on the original blogger dot com site with the URL of theansweristheqyuestion, discuss at length on several blogs, how I met David Roth at the Caldor Department Store Number 113 in Woodbury Heights in November of 1985 both working as retail security officers. We later became friends, and one day in the springtime of 1986, we went to eat a dinner at a place called the Medport Diner, in Medford Lakes, New Jersey, on route #70, the same road I’d come to live directly on just a few months ahead in time from that day. We experienced a horrendous attack by the authorities for doing no more than eating, and then going out to my vehicle and having a discussion, as I thought it was time and that I had known David long enough, to trust him with secrets about the strange mystical character from my past, the great “SARAH KRASSLE”, huh MISTER JERRY HEITZMANN, and MOMMY-MARIE????????This was the unofficial beginning that led up to the real kicker that forever changed my life into a nightmare curse defying all rational thought and belief systems in the coming months when august would roll around in the summer. My clearly revealed and told six and a half years of blogging, tells this world that something powerful and awesome and bizarre as all fucking get out, is going on around me, and always has been, but that indeed, the year of 1986 is the absolute KEY, or the pivotal POINT of all the years before as well as after, this one. There simply put folks, is just no getting around this truth, GET THAT? Well, I am not the governor of Florida, and am sorry that the schools were segged up until ’82. Congressman Robert Andrews fits into so much more than just what has been discussed so far on these blogs, and lots of peeps all over the planet know it quite well. Still, in a parallel universe, he did help me win the election and indeed, over there, I became the youngest governor on record in the state of Florida. Over here, my seventh grandfather on my mothers Huntington side of this family, was the 18^th Governor of Connecticut, and later died in office in 1796, 200 years before his 7^th grandson began his powerful quest and search for the elusive butterflies AKA SARAH KRASSLE. One thing I am certain as shit of peeps, and it is that on 10-SC Avenue in Atlantic City, major miracles have occurred over and over, with incredible ass regularity; from the nineteen sixties, straight into the 21^st century. There is the hidden body of Jimmy Tires, the appearance of a ‘young-Sarah’, at least half a dozen times; a strange young female child and later a lovely teen, that was obviously an astrally projected ghost, from an old woman in a psychic trance; upstairs in a small shop in or near the Bolivar Hotel, that she had purchased from the great Estelle ‘not Best Foods Bassler’ Wolf, TEE-HEE-HEE, McGuire Memory Bad-lighter Outages in both 1997 and again nine years later in 2006; making me forget the name of CALLIO and later making both me and my associate website photographer, MISTER LYNCH, as in Basement Huntington Lee-Laughs, and toaster oven island fires of the original home of my cousin Heinz “sail around the sound non-judge’ L&O’ Gottwald. How in the name of fucking Christ folks can you expect me to buy into thousands and thousands of these never ending ‘coincidences’??????????????????????????????

 

Many fuck ups on blogs until I learn how to go in and edit and redo these fuck up, love to make me look like a total dick in the mouth fool. You all see what I mean,. Total fuck ups, words put together with clever ass fucking hack attacks from the original Lattisaw Gang, that would literally make Sherlock fucking Holmes scratch his pipe smoking head, YO.

 

I told Jenny Plageman not to make a god out of the GAWNUM. Well, I still think no one should ever create an idol that replaces the All mighty Sarah Krassle, but let me tell you about a close second, in a pinch. That is Gawky Gaukauk and his great powerful wisdom of numerological truth. It is not based on silly star stuff such as many things are in both numerology as well as astrology. Yes the gravitational fields will have effects on things here on Planet earth, but it is all so miniscule that believing they have that much effect on life, is utter nonsense. Everything works once in a while. GAGA on the other hand, Selena Shoes, works ALL THE FREAKING TIME, YO.

 

In wrapping this all up, and not taking it home Sally Harner, let me say that a lot of Bohemian Devils have tried to make me vanish and disappear. Bruce the time traveling phone booth Doctor of gold bergs, knows quite well just what I’m talking about and referring to here, peeps.

 

Diana told me not to do anything about my crazy neighbors. She said to me that plans are in the works for my leaving Florida completely and quite soon, and just to hold on tight, and radiate over with the crooked car crash crooks. Yes, many car crashes were engineered with me, Jack McCoy and dick wolf, and I  have been told that you know all about it, and even exactly who did it all to me, both in Sicklerville, New Jersey, as well as in North Hammonton, New Jersey, both back in the mother fucking middle nineteen-nineties, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I have a trillion mother fucking things to tell you all folks, it is all gonna’ come out very soon, even if both my kids end up killing me for telling it. Hyperspace does effect its entirety, and is not limited to each part of it in their own unique singularities because we are awake in the brainwave of conscious mind, and we are asleep in the deep delta realms where we all are exploring the other parallels of the hyperspace. If not for the gateway into the entire 5^th dimension, called tween-sleeping by some secret labs studying my blogs, as very deep sleep removes our conscious mind from ever accessing the trip memories, and shallow sleep is trance like and not totally trustworthy such as moaning and groaning in pain with a serious injury or a case of influenza timetubes. But even this great dreaming realm is for the vast majority of folks, an arena that is naturally part of cosmos, and they are ‘having dreams’. There is a far cry, to quote the great father of the new age, Mister Carlos Castaneda, author of multiple great dream-books; between HAVING DREAMS, and {{{{(((:DREAMING:)))}}}}!! Dreaming is a VERB, not the noun of benignly doing this with no control whatsoever of the entire larger 5^th dimensional experience. Once DREAMING is done in 5^th and 6^th dimensional truth, and you see what is going on, you become like the great EXPLOTRATRON, PAULA KING. In years to come, the ideas presented in the fantastic Castaneda books where groups of dreamers all collude and cooperate on a DREAMING-LEVEL, they learn to take it to even another yet more advanced stage, and this is the stage of the EXPLORATRONIC-SUPERMIND. This is what opened the door in the early twenty-two hundreds, in many parallel realities, so I was told by two quite strange little dudes that seemed to appear in my back seat at Walker and Walter Street,s in Philadelphia, at a job-site I was on in 1988; when I thought I had drowned in the icy cold dark deep Delaware river, and to this very day, cannot swear in a court of law whether I did or not, as this could all be eternal hell for living and rejecting Jesus christ as my personal Lord and savior in a life before that wintry 1988 night at my security site. Still, whatever is happening, I know beyond the shadow of any fucking doubt, that the great Bohemian club knows a lot more about it than I even dare attempt to try and fucking imagine, YO!!!! Well, worrying about this any longer right now would be like either chasing the wind, or my tail, and long ago as King David, I remember how much I loved Sarah Krassle, and how we share eternity together in HER great city, unconsciously of course, as SHE knew if SHE let me remember it on an awake level, I would never have functioned in Her great game here in the way that SHE wanted me to, and folks, SHE VDIOES AND ALWAYS WILL, RULE THIS EMPIRE, get a life Pedigree Dog-food Company, YO. BYE-BYE 4 now, brown KALI-KAL, WHAAAAAAAA.

*******THIS BLOG TERMINATES TRANSMISSION. *******

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0318

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0318

DEATHSIEGE BEYOND LIFE THREATENING

FORT PIERCE POLICE DEPARTMENT

SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY

 

START BLOG:

 

My two neighbors are in cohorts with each other, maybe it is an all night Friday party, but the sub box stereo attack is bad all night, and the dirt bag across the hall seems to go in and out of the music apartment and each time, the music seems to go up and down in sync with these two getting together.

 

There is no fighting this force  keeping me miserable, folks. The night before my mother died in Blue Anchor, New Jersey in early march of 2000, I called the County Emergency operator 911 to tell them that I received a telephone call saying I would not last much longer, and I took it as a possible threat. The after result, in the television show “L&O” would have all come out, but in so-called real life or at least MY REAL LIFE, nothing at all was ever investigated. The week right before this, my caller ID showed the word BRAXTON on it and when I phoned back, let us just say, I am not at all shocked and surprised years later when I asked Gawky Gaukauk and I quote, “When BRAXTON popped up on my caller-ID that night in Blue Anchor at Guthrie Short’s mansion where I lived from 1998 through 2000, what was all of this about”, and received the answer draw on the playing cards that created the root GAWNUM of 29. PCN-297 has many powerful items listed in my book, but one of them is more than revealing that situation. Is being some part of a murder that ruined my entire life ever since, part of your great values, there girls? We won’t even touch why the powerful psychic lady, Paula Uwich from Glendora, New Jersey, insisted that these [peeps were all somehow involved with “SARAH”. I was in the process of trying to locate “SARAH” in those days, and is the reason that I responded to an item in some local press outlet where she said she could locate anyone and had great psychic abilities. 

 

One thing is beyond certain. I thought my life sucked back up at the 26^th Street Ghetto, but in a private house, you are always mother fucking better off than in an apartment, when you have a world of fucking enemies who know you abhor noise, and are endlessly and relentlessly using it against you your entire mother fucking ass life. I intend to send in tomorrow’s mail, my letters to both the housing authority, as well as to the State Attorney General Office, as I have rights, it is going on all night long, and my lease promises me that I do not have to put up with this fucking horse shit. I totally know I am being fucking persecuted. Who else has stalking aerial surveillance on them all the time? I am not permitted any kind of a life, not ever. These monster mother fuckers HAVE TOTALLY WIPED OUT AND DESTROYED AN ENTIRE PERSONS LIFE, and it will not stop until I am either dead or find some way out of this evil fucking G-8 connected SCREW WEIRD ODOR!

 

Satan HIMSELF is behind this past half century of loud low downbeat sounds. If you study drumming history, Shamans, and all connected things about low frequency repeating sounds, you will know that indeed, there is a demonic kingdom, and it has hated me out of pure fucking jealousy for a very long time. It is so too ass bad that the world is kept from the hugest secret about GODDESS and the love triangle, being fed and all buying into the story instead, of a power struggle, and hatred. The truth is so ugly to Lenny McKinnon that he can’t stand it told, not ever, not even to the mighty fucking Bohemian Club members. The most powerful number on Planet Earth, indeed is 363. Gee, DUH, is it really? Like, DURRRRR.

 

It is only a matter of time before MAGNESONIC wipes out the entire solar system if this hell on me does not back off, and it amazes me that fortune-dirt-ball-500, or whatever, does not realize this after all the fucking shit they’ve seen now since the mother fucking Mexican 1985 earthquake, YO.

 

I asked why the siege this Friday into Saturday is so bad, and Gawky Gaukauk has responded with the Private Cosmicoded number of 761. Even on this monster-ass fire-mall day of unimaginable and unthinkable deplorable siege, Mariloo Carpenter’s Roulette system produced a unit and a half profit for me. I would have ‘bet’ a thousand dollars or more, that I’d lose on this SUPER BOTBAR DAY. Well, if I had, Ida lost!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM—-Computer—-YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO AND YOU KNOW WHEN TO DO IT, SNOTTY PUNKY KIDS AND ALL. Mister Patterson, you are a real loser with all your great success, and I am one of your fans and do not mind telling you this. If you did a fictional story of my life with lots of changed names and locations, it would be bigger than all of your other stuff all put together. I’m in the book, buddy.

 

Pretty soon, I am going to call the fucking police on this fucking ass sicko neighbor. Notice I say a few blogs ago that he is better, and then it starts right mother fucking up again. THEY MUST HAVE SCORED A THOUSAND POINTS ON THEIR DOW JONES SHIT ASS MARKETS THIS WEEK, using me as always, as their toilet paper to wipe their rotten stinking asses all week long, all month long, all year long, all decade long, all century long, all freaking millennium long, and all of this last one as well, tight Bob Barfer Barker, neutered and spayed pets and high rise Harlem building signs????????????  ********END BLOG********