KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0348

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0348

4:34 PM-EST FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA,

TUESDAY AFTERNOON, NO AQUARIUMS OR SONGS,

28 FEBRUARY, TWO THOUSAND TWELVE

COPYRIGHT CLAIMED BY MICHAEL WAYNE

MOUNTAINPEN/MARK WAYNE MOHR/

MORIANITY-FOUNDATION-2/BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN

© 2006-2012

BLOG OPENING:

I told the story of how the name SAFE JOURNAL came to be. It needs to be restated every hundred or maybe every fifty or even twenty-five blogs or so. I used to have a life-journal. It was more important than World War 3 that I be able to keep it and maintain it and review it, I was planning on carefully scrutinizing the year 1986 someday, but someone out there in or beyond the stars, knew this, did not want me to be able to ever do this, so they indeed stopped me from ever be3ing able to do this by getting me to become a blogger, through and via the son of a Corrections Officer, Mister Christopher Bennett, of Vineland, New Jersey. Chris taught me how to blog and what it was all about and told me that it would be perfect for my needs of telling a horrible tale to the world, and be able to accuse my wicked enemies directly. When I did this however, it led me to a family that is unspeakable, and to this day if I try and tell anyone anything, behind my back they are calling me crazy and delusional. Well, fine, nothing I can do about any of this, so I will pretend from now on that I am writing a powerful journal and letter, to myself, publicly accessible so as to keep the writings more safe from destruction, as this great family from the stars or beyond, wiped out any chance for me to ever have gone back into 1986 and figure out the great mysteries. Chase me up some stairs and laugh, right Lee? Hay, anyone can go to and access the website as follows, www.blogger.com/ and read my October 5^th, 2008 blogs, or any of the blogs before that, since I came back online after 70 days offline and after finally purchasing my own computer, at the Plageman Mullica Mobile Manor where I resided in the late spring time of 20-08 when hell squared, cubed, and went surreal. P, since I am seemingly unable to write my true story in a way that is plain and understandable, what would you charge me weekly to let me mail you a cassette tape each week, and then you blog it in your words, and sign my name to it, I would give you the passwords and codes and it would be my blog, only you would ghostwrite it, think about it, because after they have totally destroyed my entire life and think it is a big fat joke, I think some revenge is in order. Now do not get mad, please, PLEASE, but I need to tell a small thing that we talked about recently to make a gigantic point, do not worry, it will reveal nothing of pre-2012 stuff of you or me or us, etcetera, but it is vital that I make this point, it is not any offense against you or anyone, but it MAKES A MONSTER ASS SUPER POINT, MY FRIEND. So before I get into any of the specifics, let me tell myself, and any other interested Morianity fans, that a lot of shit has happened to me since I posted the last few blogs up during the major 10 day sky siege.

First, on Sunday night or early into Monday morning, enemies hacked illegally into my AT&T legal landline telephone service, and cut me off while I was talking to Roach Diana. If I am totally cut off from the world, then why do THEY cut me off to where I am dead as though I had not paid my bill in three months, even then, I believe a total cut off is illegal, I believe a federal law does not permit the cut off of calling emergency 911, for not being able to make financial payments, but in any case, a total cut off is not like taking the phone off-hook. After it disconnects from normal service, you still hear through the wiring, or the roach-system, as my pal-P said to me in 1998 jokingly when I lived at the Guthrie Short mansion of blue anchor, New Jersey. If you plug in two telephones, you can connect a tape recorder connected to headphones, next to the mic-speak side of the handle of the phone set, place a rubber band around the two to bind them together, and blare away anything you want into something, and the other telephone will pick it up loud and clear. If it really only went to the jack or wall, first off, lightning would not be able to click on this during a storm, as she does, and THEY wou8ld not be able to cut me off into dead nothingness where not even a side-tone is heard through the phone when speaking into the mic part. Playing my old taped Morianity, has caused sports events to happen in my favor, the Dow Jones to crash on many occasions, and so on and so forth, so yes, this EVIL EMPIRE does most definitely worry about my applied knowledge of what I have termed for more than three decades now, ELECTRONIC METAPHYSICS. It merely brings to real life, the fictional character of Silvia on the original Star Trek television show in the late nineteen-sixties, who could become a large black panther, oh well, Y NOT, Mister Haddonwood Antimatter Owner of 1995? I merely am joking because of his very coincidental last name, something that at the time back then, I did not give a second freaking thought to. None of this stuff was in my life at all, only finding a missing piece of my childhood was, and this did not really take root until late in 1995, and then literally flew into a parabolic increase as the months passed, and 1996 and 1997 came to be. Life is the quintessential irony, as on one hand I am too vague or outlandish in my speaking when telling my story, as said by folks like P, and then my daughter tells me that I need to be way more subtle and tell things so only a very few in the know peeps really know what is being said, so I am really trapped in that proverbial rock and hard place, just as Scylla said a million years ago while in her original persona of the first 'rock' singer, as she loved to sit on the rocks and play her magical instruments, and her beautiful beyond worldly voice caused sailors to draw too close to the shore and crash their vessels on the rocks, this is an historical fact, not a ranting of Mountainpen, myth or not, as with the gods, science folks from the Ancient Astronauts Theorists to many other groups, now use these mythical terminologies in accepted speech in documentary shows, one after another. Yeah, I was way ahead of you, was I not James Burr? So as the Copyright Office has known since 1984, late in the year, “Did you ever wonder why you didn't die down at Camden high? Also sir, did you ever wonder why I was so far ahead of you, in so far as what I spoke about, and just in recent years, s now all over the real live world circuit, not just on science fiction shows, old pal? This is all topic for millions of other future conversations, continuing on with it now would be both pointless and fruitless.

Moving on with persecution, where are you my old school chum, Robert McDowell, sir? I NEED YOU SIR AND BUDDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yesterday afternoon following the early morning telephone interference and illegal tapping and cutting me off, came the next round of UTILITY ATTACKING against me. I was watching “LAW & ORDER” on my Comcast lineup, Channel number 43 here at Fort Pierce, Florida; and suddenly for nor reason at all, the system changed to channel 44, a World New Channel. I instantly changed it back to continue a major quantum experiment, sort of a mix of my my theories and ideas along with those of Mister Ron Wirtz, in the nineties, in new Jersey, at the Camden County Prosecutor's Office, across from Camden, City Hall, and not that far from the Tuesday afternoon aquariums, magic hypothetical daughters, and much much much more, YO.

Now today, Tuesday, there was no major skywriting from the 1989 Donna Summer Forrest WFMU magic skywriters Club, but there were white and gray helicopters and loud planes around all day at work abnd after, on the way home when I stopped at the bank to get my balance at the Automatic Teller Machine, (ATM). So today with major sky harassment, and the double bubble utility strike on me, first on the telephone just past midnight while I was talking to Diana or trying to, abnd then yesterday with the Comcast Cable bull-crap. I never told also, that my kitchen was messed with late last week, I think it was on Thursday night, I know it was around the time of the most powerful ten day siege I ever saw in my life except for maybe a few times total since this nightmare all began around me on the 15^th of August in 1986, the unfathomable focal point of this entire thing, whatever it all REALLY IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I claimed to know the answers to this, MORIANITY would be the biggest hoax and the biggest freaking lie on Planet Earth.

Now it is time to drop the bomb shell of today, and like all things, most peeps reading it will not see the Jason from the trees, you have to admit a cool coincidence P, and this is not paranoia, I am making a joke only, but Jason is not the most popular name in the word, it is popular in this generation, but still, add up the Jason's verses the John's or the Pete's, you know I'm right, I just think it is cool, as well, you know, your family lineage, just a little joke, don't get mad, it is just interesting how cosmic freaking forces work, am I wrong, tell me sometime, and yes, I want to learn, and someday when I can use electronic mail, I will be the happiest dude on this ball of upchuck. So moving on from not seeing the forest from the trees, a powerful reality and one I ought to know, from here to the dam Empire State Building, President Coo-coo Nest Grant and descendant bosses, but yes, taking this onward, DUH; but this powerful reality is that illusion is unbelievable, and the Tallows-4-Star Trek show that began the entire Trekker Club in 1966, rightfully indeed was the proper opener for this short lived hit TV series that later when the spirit of the times was right, rekindled into a blazing Jason-fire, sorry, I cannot help myself, between Ziggy falling off jetty's in Atlantic City in 1969 Brad old pal, my super cool kid sending me all kinds of messages in 2008, and her way super cool movie in late 2009, I cannot resist saying, that I guess it is time to post this up soon, and see if I can run upstairs without getting myself chased, and assaulted. Oh the wonderful Orange Avenue Greenline Motors across from the post office, my own invention, not green lines or lawns, post offices, not mail counts, but keep laughing Mister Longstair Marcucci. Say hi to your pals, the Beatles, whoever is left of them, old pal and educator, and yes sir, I know what I AM able to do at age fourteen, and have recently heard a powerful statement on the H-2 Channel, if this is not meant for me or that I am not part of whoever thought of that statement, then I will be a flying piece of hot urine, burning up in the atmosphere of Planet Jupiter. My point will now be spoken. P, you told me how you thought the blog that told my life story was the best work online I ever did. What went past you like a teenager in a Corvette automobile passing great Grannie Hoopenslither, was that time was totally reversed. The story was told from the second I bought my ice cream at the Winn Dixie Food Store, all the way back to the days when things got a foothold, at 1802 robin hill, with Goddess Scylla singing the song of “LOVE IS FOR CARPENTERS” to me in a powerful awesome “DREAM”. Yeah, dream, like medical buildings, throat specialists, and Judges, name Raso or Tombay. Gimme a frickin' bwake, Vi-Queen-Midas. You know peeps, if you can rationally explain every part of my life, which even logician and mental giant Edward Himacane Lynch was not able to do and HE ADMITTED IT IN FRONT OF ANN KING AND ME, you still would come up both blank and short, trying to give me a rational explanation not only to what happened in early June of 1980 with that song sung to me while 'asleep' called for short 'LOIS FOCA', using the first two letters of each of the four words in the title of this song to make up an abbreviated name; but you also could not explain how this incredible young goddess did not only this, but all of things since then, in 1983, in 1986, in 1994, in 1996, in 1997, in 2001, and in 2008? Looking at this from a purely human perspective, how could a ten year old girl do all of this? The answer is of course as simple as a porridge of dog-shit. She couldn't. Yet this all happened. Still, SHE made dam shore that the first letter and the last letter of her wonderful name would be right there on the original master open reel tape recording, of a song that I'll live to regret ever writing back in the summer of 1986. How could a sixteen year old girl do this? The answer is of course, that she couldn't. Yet again folks, this did all happen. Coincidence, you insist, oh yes, I must say all of this is a major random happenstance, or else the psychiatry books insist I am a wild psychotic with paranoid delusions growing out of my mother's insects and Efisus Complex, or however these sikeadoole head doctors spell the word, it is all in the DSM-5, somewhere. So I take what I must, and move on, with a big box of tasty pizza in my hand, right Sharon Payne? Maybe you and Maureen McFadden were spies after-all? One thing is for certain. Doctor Garrigan was wrong and failed his thesis as a result, back in 1970 or around there somewhere, YO. Also, if I had not asked MMCF how many people she killed in her wild young teen episodes in espionage, it is doubtful I would be surviving today, without my disability check monthly. I know Dawn King tried and tried to get on this, and failed and failed, and she was a lot crazier than I will ever mother fucking be folks, whether you wanna' believe this or not. Also, see how much you believe about all of this as March comes in like a lion, and goes charging on, right through a lot of high gates of the Callio/McGettigan waterworks of Atlantic City on the White Horse Potato Chip Pike!!!! P, all I can tell you is this. Please see how powerful what I am telling you is, as you have a chance to be told shit that no one else in this multiverse will ever tell you, not now or tomorrow or ever ever ever. My life to you made total sense, backwards. Help me do something now my friend. Tell me why. Just forget saying Nancy Reagan no or any of Pandora's great boxes, and tell me this, YYYYYYY does my life make so much sense to you, in reverse???????????????? You have to admit, I've got a valid argument here, for telling you that a lot of illusion is going on, as well as major mind control. What scares the Jesus juices out of me however, is that the PAWM-PIE-ETTOS and other smaller yet still great tools of the LAMBRIGG CULT of the Astral Plane, are why nothing can ever work out for us. You say it is the odds, but I cannot believe it is just this, not when key critical shit happens wrong at every pivotal exact turn, and not for a year or ten, but for the both of us, totaling about 80 years now. If you can read my life backwards and tells me it makes more sense than all my attempts to tell it forward, well, I feet my point of question is made right there, abnd any further words of query would only serve to obscure, mask, and obfuscate things.

Closing things out here lads, lassies, and Lob Dogs, YO, my across the hall neighbors are in and out today and every day, boom, bing, bang, Monday night they had a loud little brat screaming and crying. Oh well, Donna summer taught me something a long time ago, she said that if you don't like cats and dogs and kids, something must be wrong with you somewhere. How little you knew, Donna, you go girl, and take Jason Forrest and WFMU-Aquarius with you, please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TANKS.

Yes, this was another fucking horrible day for me folks. My AARP peeps took me to the woodshed late this morning, and WOMO got their usual mother fucking kick out of me rolling around injured, they love to strike me when I'm down, as all cowards do. Nothing new here going on folks, all old, and very ass boring, YO. As I was getting reamed on the phone at work by them, that is when the gray and white chopper struck me. You peeps are lower than whaleshit times ten to the power of a googalplex.

Thank you so very much for visiting your hurt and dying little boy last night, my beautiful Diana Zudlecronessia Arteemis. You made lovely bright colors and gorgeous Delicious shapes and patterns all over the skies outside my crummy old windows. IWALU, even if Whitney throws me in the beach hole again. Yes, you were lovely then as well, over the ocean, my tall teen-queen lover!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You and I at the waterfalls forever, my ENDLESS LOVE.

BYE-BYE evil cruel ugly old world. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

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