Friday, February 15, 2013

A Day in the Life of a Target


by Anthony Forwood


April 21, 2012

(Note: April 19 - May 1 is an important 13 day period for Satanists)

I wake up and get ready to go out for coffee, as part of my usual routine. As I put on my coat and shoes, I can hear the sound of someone on the stairwell next to my room. I’ve familiarized myself very well with these sounds, and I can tell that they’re one floor up, on the top floor, but they’re not coming down. I know who it is, because it’s always the same person – Mike Renner, the building cleaner, one of my main perps. This is his normal activity every time I get ready to go out in the morning, and I usually delay when I hear these sounds, to throw off his timing. I know he’s able to watch me – there are hidden cameras in my room.

This time, I decide to not delay, so I immediately head out, turning on my security camera before I leave. As I do, he starts coming down the stairs. I run into him coming around the corner. He’s coming onto my floor, but then for some reason he decides to turn around and follow right behind me as I go down the stairs. I decide to throw him off, so I suddenly turn around and go back up. I go into my room and turn on a second recording device – a hand-held voice recorder that can’t be defeated remotely. I leave again, and my stalker is nowhere in sight.

* * * * *

I’m walking along down the sidewalk on Robson Street. As usual, it seems that almost everybody in view has their eyes on me, whether they’re nearby or across the street, or further down the block. Whenever I look at any of them, they immediately look somewhere else and seem to avoid looking back. Those nearby seem to have sneering looks on their faces. I’ve noticed that it seems to always be me that people are looking at, and never anybody else.

The guy walking just ahead of me has a cell phone in his hand and he’s looking at it, reading a text message, At the same time, he keeps looking to the side, craning his neck like he’s trying to catch a glimpse behind him out of the corner of his eye without being obvious. I’m on his left, so I switch to his other side. He starts looking to that side now.

We get to the corner and have to wait for the light. I stand just behind him, watching him. He’s trying to read something on his cell phone screen but it’s out of my view. He’s holding it close to his body. The light changes and he puts the cell phone in his pocket, but keeps pulling it out and looking at it as he walks. I keep behind him, focused on his moves.

As we walk along, I speak quietly, like I’m talking to myself, just loud enough for him to hear me say something about getting a target notification. When I do, he seems to stiffen, and quickly puts his cell phone in his pocket again. His pace quickens slightly, but I stay with him. He continues to pull out his phone, look at it, and put it back in his pocket. I suspect that he has access to some sort of GPS tracker that lets him see exactly where I am. Perhaps the small BB-sized lump that’s been in my testicular sac since I first noticed it in the early 1980s is an RFID chip. Or maybe I’m carrying one somewhere else.

At the next corner, he veers off at the last second and crosses down the side street, leaving me behind. A minute later, I look over at him and see he’s stopped and is busy typing a text message.

Minutes later, notice that other people on the street are all looking at me again. Now they to look more threatening, their eyes locked on me, not looking away like before. Some of them get in my path as I’m about to go by, forcing me to have to suddenly veer around them. None of the people that are loitering around on the sidewalk will step aside to let me by, forcing me to have to push past them. Someone makes a comment about my rudeness for doing so. I look back and they’re giving me dirty looks.

As I look at the people that are approaching, they’re all looking at me intently. Many of them are checking their cell phones and then putting them away. Few of them seem to be occupied with anything else other than watching me. Some stop their conversations, others keep talking, but all their eyes stay on me.

I get to the library, and as I’m about to go in the door, a woman comes up from behind and pushes in front of me, cutting me off as she goes through the door I’m holding open. Another woman pushing a baby stroller comes toward the door as I enter and doesn’t stop to let me by, but just shoves the stroller into my path, blocking me and almost hitting me. I wonder how much she cares about the safety of the child sitting in the stroller. Probably not that much. I let the door swing shut on her as I step out of her way, and she gives me a dirty look. She has to stop to pull it open. I smile to myself. Serves her right.

* * * * *

Later, I’m walking down the street and I see a young Asian girl coming towards me. She’s holding a cell phone and looking at the screen. As we approach she puts the cell phone away, but she’s looking at me and veering more and more into my path, and I keep shifting to the right until I’m walking close to the side of the building, while she has ten feet of space to get by. She keeps to her path, forcing me to almost flatten myself against the wall or knock into her. I stand my ground, expecting her to shift her path. She just stares at me with an ugly look and we bump into each other. She lets out an exaggerated whimper of pain and swears at me. I shrug and tell her to be more careful and look where she’s going.

* * * * *

I decide to go to the 7-11 to buy a coffee. Outside the store are groups of Asian students from the nearby ESL school, just hanging out on the sidewalk and smoking. I go into the store and start pouring my coffee and adding the cream and sugar. As I’m doing this, they start filing in and lining up at the counter, until there’s suddenly about a dozen of them in line ahead of me. Even more come in, and they attempt to join in the line with their friends who are ahead of me. I have to tell them to get in line behind me, and they get rude about it. Each person ahead of me is taking their time and only buying something inexpensive that happens to be displayed at the counter. They each waste time fishing around for their money or debit card at the last moment when it comes time to pay for their purchase.

When I leave the store, they’re all crowding around outside the entrance, and force me to push through them. None of them are bothering to show any courtesy. One Asian guy makes a rude comment, so I ask him if he wants to be taught some manners. Several of them step forward, trying to be intimidating, so I smile and motion for them to follow me into the alley. They all back down, as I knew they would.

* * * * *

I go back home, and U notice that Bill, the perp neighbor across the hall, has his door cracked open as usual so that he can keep an eye on my door from where he sits in his room. I go in my room, and a few minutes later I hear him coughing dryly as he walks past my door heading to the washroom. Minutes later, I hear him cough again as he returns. He does this every single time he passes my door. I let out a loud exaggerated cough, mocking him.

And so it goes…

Monday, February 4, 2013

Stop Feeding the Beast


Log off the internet and disconnect your computer from all outside connections.

Throw away your cell phone and start interacting face-to-face, or write letters the old fashioned way.

Stop watching TV shows, and stop renting or buying DVDs.

Stop buying most consumer products or following consumer trends.

Stop relying on doctors to fix your aches and pains. Take a more natural approach.

Get rid of your car and use simpler methods of transport.

Sell your house and all your fine furnishings and homestead on a piece of land where you don’t have to pay insurance or property taxes.

Stop paying taxes.

Stop paying insurance.

Quit your corporate job and learn a more creative and relaxing occupation that you actually enjoy spending your time doing.

Don’t make donations to organizations.

Only deal with small, independently owned, unincorporated businesses.

Ignore all forms of news media.

Don’t keep your money in banks.

Don’t depend on loans.

Don’t give any information to the government, police, corporations, or other organizations.

Take no secrecy oaths and sign no non-disclosure agreements. Avoid secrecy altogether while respecting privacy.


* * *

Some purposely rigged catch-phrases and my proposed alternatives:

conspiracy theorist -> conspiracy realist

politically correct -> politically conformed

national security -> national secrecy