SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0500
KING
NEBNOOSHOO
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SEND-BACK-TEXT
DATE AND TIME FILE:
CH-0500-080212.001
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR: (BSNF)
“SECRET
MUSEUMS, ATTEMPTED SUICIDES, AND MORE”
©
2006-2012 MARK WAYNE MOHR
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Some
few folks on this lovely planet in 2012, know that something is
happening in my life, and has been, ever since I popped out of my
moms joy-box, and there is no disputing it rationally. 99% of the
peeps who read my blog will try and rationalize it as no matter how
else it may seem, and how well many things tie together from 'A' to
'Z', that I must be insane, and are in the Jason Forrest WFMU
Internet Club. I am only concerning myself with that small percentage
who know deep down, that I am not crazy, oh sure, I am fucking
heavily damaged, who wouldn't be after all of this, but not crazy,
nor hyper imaginative. All fucking day long, my sicko EXPLORATRON
CONTROLLED, noisy neighbors from hell, were as bad if not
worse than back four days ago, last Sunday. Both times, I know who is
behind it, and why, and that mot only one explanation is there, but
remembering that there are 7 dimensions of the Lawtronics of reality,
and above that, to fully complete the strings of great 'harmony' the
dimension of the question, and then the ultimate one of the answer.
This need not ever really be fully addressed, as we all should know
by now that we have our hands quite full dealing with 5-7 of these
awesome, and totally beyond 'WOW' dimensions. If things were as
simply by any stretch, as many would hope, and one being, wow, that
Mountainpen, what a luney bin case; well, this does two obvious
things right away. It does a great man cave tightening up of many
peoples' cozy comfort zones, and it also simplifies things to levels
where certain things just cannot be real, and you know folks, thios
is not a totally wrong concept, as I have fully admitted to in many
previous blogs, on the original sites where I used to blog before
this one, one on the blogger site, at the URL of 'drunkenhive'. There
are indeed limits and barriers of what can and cannot be in WAKING
LIFE or the HYPERSPACE POST ATOMIC SIZED MULTIVERSE. We don't have
monsters like Count Dracula running around, or super heroes like
Spidy or Soup flying up above our great city streets, and not even
family company Jenny Johnson's, for that matter. Still, some folks
tend to lower the LL, not the LLLL, but the LL, you can consider this
the abbreviation for the term, “Lawtronic Limit”, but yes, things
must stay, as most adults have come to live long enough to ponder on
this point once or twice, within some kind of invisible
reality-acceptance-box, or looking at it in a more broken down form
of expression, we could call it, staying within the laws of natural
orders, not para-normal, not super-natural, but within the order that
is accepted in the classic laws of physics as well as nature, hence
we get and know quite well, or we should; the term, “natural
order”. The problem here is not breaking the law of any type of
known Newtonian Physics, or inside of this quite famous and often
spoken of, natural order, as nothing claimed by Morianity or
Mountainpen through 6-7 years of blogging now, does any of this. What
a lot of it does, is admit that there is classical physics and then
there is what once was termed by the world “metaphysics” and
needs to be rethought a little bit here. What I mean to say is sinply
this. I think that just as with Clark Kent and superman in the famous
fictional Action Comic Hero character, metaphysics and quantum
dynamics, is sort of in many if not most all cases, really, ONE AND
THE SAME DUAL REALITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let
me take things along now that we have built up this little bit of
base foundation, LLLL. Before I do, old blogs and doing some
archiving legwork of my blog history, will prove to you that MAGNETIC
PERCENTAGE is nothing new, and is another one of my personal
labellings and combinations of two already existing words such as
PARALLEL EVENT, but my point is, that my WOMO sicko power hungry game
playing and endless game loving diseased and twisted enemy, did not
forget to make my day super hell on the first of the month, AGAIN, as
they just about do with perfect Swiss time piece precision clockwork
accuracy, speak of perfection, Bruce Pennock, and 'others'. Yes
folks, they banged me up, as Keisha-99 would say with arm breaking
strength and vigor, “GOOOOD”, or was it Helen Zebriski, after she
witnessed Goddess Keisha fracture my arm in one awesome bone crushing
powerful Disney later copying punch, and wow, I'm so scarrrrrred,
David Keenan Roth. Yes peeps, the WOMO did their thing and the holly
died and Deadwood did not sing, not with smokestacks, not with
airplanes, and certainly not with time-trails, wait a minute, I, I, I
don't know. No, I don't know most everything, but WOW, they are
finally catching onto some powerful stuff a little bit, huh my good
pal, Mister Morgan Freeman? The next son of a bitch who asks me how
this was all done, back in the freaking nineteen-eighties, please get
this little message 'right here and now', from the Mountainpen, all
the way to the Coraceedin Pharmacy of hearts. “P-L-E-A-S-E DONT”,
because LFLD, “I, I I DON'T KNOW”. We're losing people Detective
Curtis Huntington; oh well, try not to cry. I can do plenty of that
for the both of us, kind sir. Yes, this dam 1983 GITYA has caused me
a lot of grief, for weeks, months, and now I have to realize, Mister
Freeman, probably forever, God, Bruce, watch those super hero spoons,
YO. Even the great Paul did not get me rolling around as much as that
powerful cool movie of the early twenty-ohs. Yes without further
digressing onto multiple point tangents folks, they banged me up real
real real GOOOOOOD, Helen and Keisha, on the FIRST OF AUGUST, but
then again, we now are into the 2nd day, and I am not
expecting this one to go a whole lot smoother, and most of my blog
fans know exactly why, but in case we have forgotten the unthinkable,
and remember I was mother fucking set up, I'll post something along
with this blog, to 'refresh memories', ooh what a taboo and god
forsaken other two words, shown above in semi quotation marks. In any
case, we move on now good people. All day, I was pounded by my
neighbors. In case the PH Authorities are interested, there has to be
a dozen people living over in these two apartments, this is totally
Dairy Queen Stuff, Mack Kaiter of 1967/1967, sir. For short, I might
say 'DQS', it is shorter than printing out the word
rideeeeeeeekulous. Well, Sarah Fivepartys, and other friends and foes
following these words, since endless ghosts, or really active
advanced exploratrons just won't quit, such as again on the first of
AUGUST, let us discuss how some powerful exploratron grabbed me while
I was visiting my mom at her Pennsylvania apartment back in the year
of 1976, and kept throwing me over and over, high up onto a wall air
conditioner in her dam apartment. I kept shouting out the words, “I
need the word, I need the word”. My so-called ass hole friend, Jim
Burr, had filled my head with all that Christianity nonsense, which
totally did not work against the secret museums and other places and
people, but no, the voice said back to me in a very articulate and
unforgettable way, “You want the word, go the word”. Then it
would instantly slam me again, back up against the high wall mounted
air conditioner. This all began after I had fallen asleep in my mom's
fucking apartment, and this was one hell of a major exploratronic
experience that Christians would label as demonic possession, and
occultists would think more of as OOBE, or NDE experience. My mother
was influenced to take her life some would argue with me, in that
very same apartment and within a few mew months or so of my
'experience'. She claims it was an accident and that she did not mean
to off herself, but you all can be the judge when I publish her
story, that I promised to do back in 2010 when I first arrived here
in fort Pierce, Florida, USA, ESMWG. My mom blamed her OFFICE for
several major screw ups, this one, and then again about two decades
later roughly, up or down a year or two or three. The heavy drinking
in the nineties was guilt for not telling me what she needed to tell
me, but instead endlessly said things to me that were starting to get
on my nerves in ultra hypertime, every time I said or did something
she did not approve of. She would say, “How would you like it if
your daughter said that to you”, or, “How would you like it if
your daughter did this to you”. One day I lost it and demanded to
know where she got this hypothetical daughter, and she almost passed
out and turned every color in the rainbow. Still, we are talking the
middle seventies and her apartment out in Media, Pennsylvania, not
twenty years later in the middle nineties. Now I have no intention
right now of typing this entire work onto the blogs, so the
publishing of my mom's work onto my blogs and the public internet, no
permission being needed as she is long deceased and there is no one
with legal power in my immediate family to interfere, still, this
will be done in sections. I remind my readers, that this work was
written in 1977 by my mom, and I will quote her words verbatim. If
she as she claims, did not mean to off herself, cool. But, either
way, something sure got into her to make her pop a bottle of
sleepers. No matter how she tells it, a rational brain does not take
an amount of chemical poison to kill themselves, without something
being real wrong somewhere. She had recently returned from 175
Peninsula Drive, up in Babylon, New York, visiting her cousin Ruth
Huntington Gottwald. The internet has sanitized a lot of information
in my family, A LOT. You will only find my mom's cousins' husband,
Heinz Gottwald's 2nd wife up there, as though Ruth
Huntington had never married Heinz Gottwald. There are so many
connected reasons for all things, and all Quantum Physicists know
this. Still, do I have all the answers? I admitted in 1983 that I
thought I knew most everything, in a song that I wrote and
copyrighted that same year. How can I ever really know a dam thing,
mister Wolf and Mister Trump, you butt wipes? Here is mom's work.
***SUICIDE,
OR WAS IT? By Grace Eastman Mason Mohr***
Upon
recovering from what appeared to be a suicide attempt , my thoughts
centered around others who did NOT survive “apparent suicide”.
There must be numerous cases where the person did not intentionally
plan to take his or her life but never lived to affirm it.
The
furtherest thing from my mind that night was suicide. Yet I had taken
sixty tranquilizer pills, which would certainly indicate I had tried
to commit suicide. Other circumstantial evidence would further
convince anyone as I had hidden the prescription bottle in a boot in
my closet before passing out. There also would appear to be logical
reasons for the overdose I'd taken. But, I HAD NO IDEA OF SUICIDE
when I downed those tranquilizers. I merely wanted to forget what had
just happened.
OK,
this is where we will leave off tonight, and it will pick up on Safe
Journal, Chapter # 0501.
LLLL,
my life is something that none of you can ever wrap your heads
around, so don't try. Look at MORIANITY as something you come up here
and enjoy reading. I'll do the fucking crying for all of us. You can
switch off to your life now, unfortunately, I CANNOT folks,
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,
despite my having a beyond nuclear disaster here in 2011 and 2012
here in Florida, at least one thing has come down the aisle in my
direction. Now I can drive about the same distance as I used to do,
back in New Jersey, to play real wheel casino roulette. The Pompono
Resort has real roulette and is about the same distance from my PH
building as was Atlantic City from Hammonton or any other location
where I was living during my gambling days averaged out in mileage,
just on the other side of the Okeechobee Lake. Sunday I made 2units
profit, today another 3. Also, my CARDDECK that has been in a major
range in black anti space for some time now for cosmos querying, is
holding in that lovely range of well out of neutral by nearly thirty
percent. I am so glad I remembered to take my 40 decks of playing
cards in one of my bags, two and a half years ago, on that fateful
night when I ran away from THAT-FAMILY. Wow, Tommy Studerer, this was
one REALE powerful experience for me, meeting all of you back in
those hippie dippy days, Jesus Christ All Mighty Fucking Goddess.
Well
it is hal past one now, and time for me to sign off. I get a strong
feeling that powerful stuff is all going to begin. My Copyrighted
material will be in the mail either tomorrow or the day after, what a
risk, they really might all decide to murder me, oh well, I did not
commit suicide, Mommy Dearest Davis!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NIGHTY
NIGHT. BYE-BYE.
ENDING
TRANSMISSION, YO!!!!!
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