SAFE
JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO
CHAPTER
0414, MONDAY NIGHT
WORLD
LABS SBT DATFILE: 043012.894
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“GUESSING
THE NAMES OF THE VISITING EXPLORATRONS”
WOW
WAS I WRONG ABOUT I-CHING!!!
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR OF HAMMONTON, NEW JERSEY
LADS,
LASSIES, LAB DOGS, AND GREAT LABBERS OF ALL TIMES AND VOICES, PERMIT
ME PLEASE NOW, TO
BEGIN
MY BLOGGING TRANSMISSION:
I
HAVE A SUBTITLE NUMBER TWO TO THIS BLOG OF GREAT POWER AND
REVELATION, ME' PEEPS, YARR, AND MAITEES,
“TO
SEEK AND TO FIND, ALL DOORS TO GREAT LOCKED UP SECRETS, NEED A
GENERAL BREAKDOWN OFF OF THEIR LAKE-HOUSE-HINGES”.
IF
A BETTER SECOND SUBTITLE EXISTS, IT IS WAY BEYOND MY FRICKIN'
COMPREHENSION OF THE CAHINED UP COMPREHENNINGSENS OF
1969!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me begin this awesome shit tonight by telling you that strange things
are going on today. I have what you would call poltergeist activity,
around me, you would say tomAto and I would say EXPLORATRON tomaato.
But who honestly gives a fucking shit about how we might differ in
diction or descriptive choices in words? The urgent deal here is that
a while ago, Sir Parker, and Sir Flags and Stripes, and others who
can count themselves in the real in-circle of huge secrets, who have
shared in the “I SANG THE SARAH SONG” CLUB, let me tell you, that
this song written in the early afternoon Eastern Time in America, on
the 12th day in May in the year of 1996; by me, who the
Christ else; is not like the vast majority of songs, because it is
truly a Hymn, all though when written, this author did not know the
full truths involved in this beyond gargantuan sized bigger-picture
situation. This song is written about the most awesome and All
Powerful God. Some advanced thinkers think of the cosmos itself
becoming aware and awake through 5th dimensional
possibilities exhausting their way into realities where stars must
burn at just the perfect ways so as to create carbon, and thus
through that, becoming aware and awake, and even human beings of the
Planet earth. This is a rationalized quick way of seeing this beyond
reachable God. This GOD has no limits at all, and thinking as do the
new age scientists, place limits on this great being. It does not
matter how we may attempt to see anything, or think about it, we as
the pieces of the pie, are simply never able to know what the entire
pie all put together can really be. Take any pie, cherry, raspberry,
or lemon merrang, it does not matter at all; make it aware of itself,
slice it into 100 pieces and place them all over the world, and count
to a quintillion. Now open your eyes and tell me that any of these
pieces know what the hell is going on in the great cosmos around
them. This is quintessential horseshit from the go-bat. And even
dumber than these individual pie pieces after a very long time, is
Micro-Sucks Spell-Checker, that is no help at all in giving me the
proper spelling of a very delicious pie, and I cannot help it if I am
a rotten fucking ass speller folks, so sahwee great Japanese
Ambassadors of World War Two!!!!!!!
And
this is the magic folks, as I had no conscious intent for bringing
this point that I need to be making right now, into a powerful and
perfect round robin story. The reason this famous statement of SO
SORRY was said, was because this American Ambassador had known all
along that his peeps back in Japan had planned and were carrying out
the great bombing of Pearl Harbor, on the 7th day of
December in 1941, at Hawaii, with or without any punching bag wives
on the great “Law & Order” television show. So about Pearl
Harbor now, or really, this famous day, huh President Roosevelt? As I
speak, and all day today, these mother fucking dirt ball across the
hall neighbors have been, and are currently, really acting up, and I
may be calling the police shortly, as Debbie told me to do in the
office of this PHA building. This has been a super BOTBAR attack, as
ALL FUCKING MONDAY'S HAVE SEEN TO BE NOW FOR QUITE A FUCKING WHILE,
every week it is Monday through fucking cunt ass Wednesday. Today it
was not only these ignorant scum bags from across the hall, but
CHEMTRAILS all day, nasty ones, not only out there in the skies, but
also effecting my physical health, making me cough and wheeze, and
TOTALLY VIOLATING MY HUMAN AND MY CIVIL RIGHTS big time, World Court
at the Hague!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Just go the great
YOUTUBE, and GOOGLE the word CHEMTRAIL. Also you can click the search
bar of the YT and type in the words “King Nebnooshoo” and when my
videos come up, just click onto the video called, “CHEMTRAILS OF
1987”. The real general breakdown is that powerful people tend to
focus on their desire to remain popular and powerful, instead of
remembering that at the end of this game, we all go back into a tiny
bit of dust, lost to time and forgotten completely in less than
10,000 years, in just about every single case. Cosmically this is one
second. If your car topped out at 99.999999999% of 186,282 SMPS
instead of between 90 and 150 depending on your vehicle (street legal
vehicle that is), and that is MPH (HOUR), not MPS (SECOND), and you
orbited around the Milky Way for about 30 or 40 hours, and re-landed
on this world, it would be 10,000 years from now, ask anyone who
knows, this is not a delusion, it is proven mathematical and
astronomical reality. Anyway, GOOGLE away, while we still have a
'free enough society' and a non-sanitized enough GOOGLE INFORMATION,
so that you can get some tid bit of truth into this powerful ass
subject and topic of CHEMTRAILS. What none of you know is the
powerful total truths that were indeed known in some part by an
ancient tribe of Hopey Indian, and I know I am misspelling the name
of this tribe, I am, doing my best folks, so bare with whittle ol' me
if you will, Whaaaaaaaaa. These folks talked about spider cob webs up
in the sky, this was not a few years or decades ago, but in the
multiple dozen centuries of time back, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They
know what I came to learn from my 'hyperspace exploratronic travels'
back in early 2009. I actually learned that flying through these
magical trails of electromagnetic radiation, created chemically, for
the first ten minutes or so after a spray out, permits worm hole
movement, you suddenly find yourself in an endless cobweb system. You
just fly and come out someplace, and if you do not understand this
complex multiversal matrix, you may come out tomorrow or last week,
or three million years ago, and end up anyplace, Earth, or any colony
blasted out in the distant future, from meteorites that are
positioned and terraform created, to be out-world colonies such as
discussed in my 1994 so-called fictional book, © “The Permission
Barrier”. In truth, it is not the chemicals in these chemtrails
that hurt our health as human beings, so much as it is the
electromagnetic radiations, that to most present day technology, is
not even recordable on high end scientific instruments. This is
slowly going to reduce the population of this world through
sterilization and biological negative interactions with too much
electromagnetic radiation and power. It is similar to the reasons
that we can only log so many total hours in outer space, and then, we
need powerful suits of protection from a lot more than just the
extreme temperatures that exist out beyond the atmosphere here on
Earth. Now it has been said. That is that, ROGER, and yes, I will
print the note that I spoke of in a recent blog, I must, if I want to
try and survive and fight this ES (Exploratronic Supermind).
I
will not print it word for word as it is not supposed to be made
public until twenty-fifteen. I thought I was wrong on my first
disobedience, by that I mean that if you read the other fairly recent
shit, you know that somehow this great dude who he claims I retraced
in 2298 at the World Laboratories of Westmont, told me that I better
not try and prove that I am being prevented from doing anything on
this realm, by powerful ES, 'dream clubs of the future', as well as
from 'other parallel universes', and that they will stop and prevent
my accomplishing anything, in order to maintain the great game of the
HUNTINGTON CLAN, as you cannot alter the past by one atomic
arrangement in the same frequency of the vibrating atom in the time
and world that you regressed from. Just moving off normal time motion
and sync moves you through both the 4th as well as the 5th
dimension, and this will not become more fully understood until the
civilization becomes aware that once we thought of things as space
and or time, and then Sir Einstein showed the world Space-Time, and
in the future, the world comes to learn about SPACE-TIME-MIND, it
really does all totally connect. Peeps 100 and 500 years ago would
have absolutely scoffed and laughed at the idea and concept of
SPACE-TIME. Anyway, this note from Colaman, in so many words, tells
me that I am forbidden from heavy experimentation in real and
so-called waking life, with proving the reality that I literally AM
NOT ALLOWED to do anything, and if I try ANYTHING, instantly,
EXPLORATRONS will come around, and find totally invisible yet
absolute ways to stop it. This of course was first shown to me in
1986, and not in the way that some might be thinking. I am speaking
of playing professional Roulette, at the Atlantic City casinos, in
New Jersey. So before ever telling too much about exact procedures
for learning how to actually become a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON, know that
you will only be operating in parallel universes, normally in a
TYPE-1-EXPL-mode, we think of this as being tired, and falling off to
sleep, and begin dreaming, or not, depending on the night. Still,
there are so many localized parallel realities where hardly anything
is all that different, still, finding the very localized ones is the
biggest part of this to be learned as a seasoned traveler, and will
need to be mastered quite a bit before your first 'inter-visitation'
will ever occur. This is thought of by those not in the know, being
just about the entire world in 2012, as alien sleep encounters and or
abduction experiences, this is all old fashioned horse shit, as is
organized religion, in any form whatsoever. This is the truth like
it, choke on it, or whatever.
I
said in a prior blog, the word 'DEAD', and you know I meant to type
in the word 'DEED', sorry, wow hopefully nothing Freudian going on
here, roof dog of South Carolina Cotton Kings. Let me not make any
waves here, boats tip easy or so I've been recently informed, YO.
As
for Exploratron Trump, well, I knew this for 30 years or more folks.
I created this bastard on a now old museum tape recording system,
then called the RS1500US open reel semi-pro mastering machine,
purchased in June of 1980 with no help from carpenters or drunken old
bartenders, from the Martin Audio/Video Shop, in New York City,
NYUSAESMWG. I thought that I had created this unique character by the
name of Shorty MacInvondi, a seven foot tall guy with an ego the size
of Russia, and someone who owned many boats and planes and property,
a billionaire who called me “hot-shot” in fun, and made fun of my
princess, the great disco diva Donna Summer, and told me that he
owned New York City and Atlantic City, and this was all done back in
1980. I did not ever know this person existed humanly until four
years later when he had the PLAZA CASINO built in Atlantic city, his
first one, now, as the tape says, he owns the entire town, or just
about, right pretty beach teens? I never forget anything, and NOTHING
gets past me, roger that 601 Lenny Mc. He names this place the what,
PLAZA??????????? I had no memory of ever speaking to the owner of the
Bolivar Hotel, Sarah J. Karge, born on July the 18th in
1896, at this time in 1980, or in 1984. But these parlor tricks are
as meaningless as the sounds and songs of the four winds. The lady
who sold the Bolivar hotel to Sarah Karge, was Estelle Andersen
Bassler, very similar to the name on the “L&O” show, Estelle
Muller, years after this. In real truth, a physical man was all ready
alive and well in Manhattan in 1980. This was just a body that an
EXPLORATRON needed to use, and still has just about full total
control and power over him, and over a hell of a lot of all of us, as
a fucking result. There is a connection between these forming DREAM
CLUBS of super advanced type-three exploratrons, and something known
as the P4E, or PHASE-4 ENTITIES. These are Astral Plane beings, who
desire to dream down into human waking world beingness as normal born
TYPE-3 little babies, the way you and me were born. However, they
want to come here, in ways not acceptable to a sort of filtering
system that exists in ways beyond human ability to fathom, that
prevent monsters or 20 feet giants or werewolves or vampires and
things along these lines, from entering this waking world and
disturbing a natural existing balance and order. This is the complex
circuitry of the seventh dimension that lays above all of the
mind-realm, and makes up the world of the LAWTRONS. But back now to
Sarah J. Karge and Estelle A. Bassler. The lady who sold Sarah the
hotel, when Sarah was in her early seventies, on Tennessee Avenue, in
Atlantic City, Estelle Bassler, lived and had a listed telephone
number in the county phone book in the early seventies, in fact one
with a prefix number matching one of the so-called Star Trek
fictional agents working along with Gary-7 in the episode called, if
memory is serving correctly, “MISSION EARTH”, there were two
agents with code numbers three digits in length, and one of these
numbers matched the address of the Tennessee Avenue property shown on
the public record deed of property owners, matching Misses Bassler's
property, the other agent was the number of her prefix phone number
in the 1972 book. Also, FISA and other snoops; from Trout Lane to
beaver drive; her address was 30 PLAZA Place, latrer, trump calls HIS
FIRST CASINO, TRUMP PLAZA, coincidence, well, you can believe these
things all are if you want to, after all, it may be easier to do this
rather than accept this nightmare around me and end up with a GENERAL
BREAKDOWN, and on Social Security Disability since 1994. DUH, Hyundai
drivers, like YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
for a morsel tid bit amount of further 411 on this SJ-CH 0413,
regarding the great apartment complex of my boyhood, in Oaklyn, New
Jersey, nowhere near Oakland, Kali despite it being on Oakland
Avenue, it was not on 36th Avenue Nicky, so go enjoy your
freaking Alpo. WOLF-WOLF!!
This
place had thirty-two apartment units in it. There was an upstairs and
a downstairs apartment and there was a row of sixteen of these. I
lived at number O-15. They were the original GAWKY GAUKAUK system,
whether I knew it or not. The one at the far west side, as they faced
out into a parking lot on front and rear faced a small grass area and
beyond that was an entirely different system of other apartments, but
the far west unit was A1 and B2. The next one heading easterly were
units 3C and 4D. My unit was facing Oakland Avenue, the far eastern
side, and I lived with my mother on the bottom floor, in unit number
O15. Not zero-0, but O-OH, O-OH, is this the beginning of a CAN OF
WORMS, MISTER DAVID ROTH????????????????????? “I DON'T KNOW”.
WOW, am I brave tonight WOMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Actually, this is
nothing, so if shit keeps up and will not stop, expect this to go to
the wall, mister Jordy La forge, and all other great Trekker Star
Ship Engineers, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
if one eye worked without the visor, I'd be quite tempted now to type
in, YARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR, but this is not the freggin; case folks.
WHAAAAAAAA. Letters matching numbers, wow, my apartment was
O-FIFTEEN, or Private Cosmicoded Number 880. Jesus. Where are you
now, MY wonderful Sarah Jacobson, magical strobe lights and all for
crissake??????????????????? Well, we know from recent blogging that
the name of that open reel, RS-fifteen-hundred-US has a powerful
number, with or without a glass of delicious V-8 Juice,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY MY, Harold Camping. Are you
through making end of times predictions YET, or do you enjoy the
humiliation of HUNTINGTON CURSES?????????????????????????????????
I'M
DARKER THAN YOU ARE. LET'S PLAY A GAME BOY, GUESS THE NAME OF THE
GUESTS. YOUR FRIENDS ARE IN THE SHOP. Two from this dimension of
hyperspace, one from another one where Mary Tyler Moore was in her
lovely 'bright green dress' and standing out on a balcony that does
not now or ever did in history so far, exist facing Tennessee Avenue
in Atlantic City. Well, take the great statement made to me on when,
PEARL 'HARBOR' DAY or 12/07/1996, waking me up with a bang of all
bangs at exactly 5 AM, and sending me running down to 10SC Avenue
that morning to check shit out, later by two months, to go next door
to McGuire's Hotel, and meet this wild man for the first time in
adult life, as I know we met once when I was young and walking down
the street on his side, not Sarah's side, back in the middle late
nineteen-sixties. Trapped forever, in this powerful 'FIELD' of
endless terror and love, and how does the great Old Testament say it,
the FEAR and the LOVE of the LORD or the SAR, it is commanded of us
by this impossible to grasp All Mighty Being. Well, Exploratron Uwich
or any so-called (PAUL'S) for that matter; crissake, trapped in
prison, did she tell me in the autumn of 1996, the great psychic
Paula Uwich of Glendora fucking New Jersey? SHEEEEEEEEEIT. She
(SARAH) or LORDESS, had a real thing about HER being “DARKER”,
and seems in this next life to be quite fixated on the same exact
subject. Now the note. It told me to carefully, very very carefully,
he used 2 VERY'S, examine the words that she spoke in that 2009
movie, just take it off the DVD, record it onto a tape, his words not
mine, and listen and listen, and then learn. WOW, Jesus Christ All
Mighty Empire Ruler-102, CAN THIS BE, Aunt Barbara of 1938, I ask
you, Mizz Mirror Taxi Shutuppp?????????????????? Are all the
HUNTINGTON'S having a total GENERAL BREAKDOWN here folks, WO? The
guessing the name thing was the biggest mystery however my peeps.
What are GUESTS? Many things, but one of these things can certainly
be considered to be VISITORS, right? Well, the EXPLORATRONS are doing
exactly THAT, YES, visiting our transdimensional doppelgangers for
the most part, living through them, and taking over whenever they so
desire, if advanced enough to do this, (TYPE-3). I never did this
back when I got that note before coming here, so that is a year now.
I am talking about my current address at this PHA Building, and
coming from the 26th Street address up in the hood before
this. As soon as I left, the place went dark, I checked. No Wendy
next door, no nothing, it was all a huge EXPLORATRONIC setup, to get
me there, and do specific deeds, not 'deads', to me at perfectly
timed intervals (PHT), wemember folks, whaaaa? No more April Lee and
Raymond Bailey, yeah, another dad and daughter deal, wow, OK, it is
all just in my sick ass delusion. OYR, all this happens every ass
day, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
we will move on some more with these three powerful SAR (LORD)
statements. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Let's
play a GAME, it all is HER GAME. It is called, GEE, I wonder who the
fuck is inside of this neighbor, or this boss, or this coworker, or
this person that I am trying to secure help from or tell my plight
to, yeah, right, it makes a whole lot of sense now, it just took me
about 15 and a freaking half years, that's all. We won't make the
extra leap that Michelle's distant cousin from RPL put me onto as
well with the BOY thing, all though, it is a big part of shit, right
pop off Pop of the US Merchant Marines of Mariena. You cannot tell me
these millions of dots don't connect, or that I am being Bess's baby
sitter with all of this, banging and forcing pieces of a puzzle
together that don;t legitimately fit. I suppose that you can, but
I'll tell you that you're full of mother fucking bullshit at the
speed of light. The easiest one isd the friends in the house.
Shop/House, same diff. The entire deal was to connect the present
time or the then present time, the 60's, with shit from the days of
Sarah and Abraham, via my wonderful Aunt Geraldine Snow Mason, wife
of Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason, and daughter, my cousin Sandra
Mason, getting the families to cosmically connect, invisibly perhaps
forever to the world, and me for about 40 years. Well, Ward Cleaver,
you can take shit from here old pal, broken automobile windows and
all, “Beve, it's all out in the open now”. Unlike the story on
“LEAVE IT TO BEAVER” however, wonderful folks; or not so
wonderful as the case may be in either way; this involves a whole
fucking hell of a lot more than trying to cover up breaking a car
window. This is the cover up of the entire cosmos, why it is all here
and seemingly real, and what and who is behind it. I am not claiming
to have no space on my walls for family photos. It's not all crammed
with awards and degrees. I don't know anything all that special, not
really. I only know what I have experienced personally, lived
through, and yes, DREAMED. I have come to learn that there really is
a lot more involved in the seconds of the ticking clock, than anyone
of you are aware of, and am sharing this story with anyone interested
in learning about it. Those who don't want any part of it merely see
the BOM, and hit the “NEXT BLOG” button, it is still a somewhat
free world, click away.
Let
me wrap it up now. I knew innately and below any conscious thought
level when I began these blogs, one thing about all of this, and only
one. This is that the things that were spoken by SARAH, had enormous
tremendous power and energy. I may go to my fucking grave trying to
learn a million more hidden things about my lovely Jehovah Goddess,
just from these three spoken sentences by HER. I knew that HADDONWOOD
was a powerful part of it all too, but had no idea whatsoever about
'my daughter', and maybe until things are proven someday, I should
stop saying this. Still, in examining many things from 4-5 years
back, it was not me that was ding all kinds of things to get her
attention, but the other way around, and anyone who reads the story,
knows this is the truth. I never dreamed that the 1969 CHEMTRAIL of
three perfectly 120 degree jets, were part of today's ongoing
problem, I was totally wrong, it is. I am not god, I don't have all
the answers. WOW, is anyone all that shocked or surprised, Princess
Donna? But I do know this. I need to sort out just WHO IS BEING
EXPLORATRON CONTROLLED THE MOST, AT ALL TIMES. A child that grasps
the meaning of the MORIANITY story, knows that this will alter with
the tick tock of the clock. Anyone who is NOT NEUTRAL to me, will
become more and more inhabited by EXPLORATRONS. It is on sliding time
scales along with importance scales. Those in a positive position for
me are going to be controlled and influenced to think and do negative
things to me (ETTOS-TPB), while those in a negative position for me,
such as neighbors or bosses or road drivers, you name it as Elizabeth
Montgomery said it way too perfectly for me to properly ever try and
compete with, there really are endless possibilities involved here,
Darren Stevens Beware (DSB) for future quick abbreviation usage, but
yes, those peeps like this, will be apt to be taken over and
manipulated to never like me at work no matter how hard I work or how
hard I try, neighbors always dislike me, it started before I can time
and date the problem, toddler fucking ass age man, and on and on I
can fucking cunt go forever, unfortunately!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YO, JAY JAY EVANS, what can I say, BRO???????????????????
DUH!!!!!!!!!!
The
mother fucking magic with me, lies within those three powerful and
awesome statements made on Tennessee Avenue, all three of them, awake
or asleep, by the great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE. You tellem record layer
girl. You know world, it is all there, you choose to doubt me, that's
really the entire package and story. The quick and only version of
all this is labeled by me the LIEUTENANT SACK OF PISS SYNDROME. I
took a cassette tape of a bomb threat made to me into this police
Lieutenant';s office in Voorhees Township, New Jersey on the tenth of
fucking January of 1990, and what did they do besides nothing at all,
oh, they took me to the cherry Hill Crisis Center for a Sike Eval.
When your name happens to be Mountainpen Huntington, you can only
keep losing. Show me where I am wrong folks, Clarence Harris at
Congressman Rob Andrew's office tried that neat whittle twick back in
1998 BRAHHHH. Talk about a real GENERAL BREAKDOWN and some wild
twisted and whack sike music, YO. SHEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!
Well
Mister George Crooked, I mean Strait, need I really say more, to you,
to Dennis, to Trashville, or to anybody else for that friggin'
matter? Gimme a dam bwake world, WHAAAAA.
I
WILL SAY THIS WORLD, or really, NASTY ASS FUCKING EXPLORATRONS
attacking and destroying mt entire 57.4 years of human existence as
the me I am today, MWM:
IF
YOU WANT MORE LONG TELL ALL BLOGS LIKE THIS ONE, THEN KEEP UP THIS
MOTHER FUCKING ASS PERSECUTION OF POOR INOCENT
ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION, WHAAAA.
