Thursday, February 28, 2013

MORIANITY-4-STILL MADE TWO AND A HALF UNITS DESPITE SUPER HELL




'MORIANITY-4'



STILL MADE TWO AND A HALF UNITS YESTERDAY, DESPITE HELL X 10



4:38 AM-EST, FRIDAY, MARCH ONE, TWENTY-TWELVE



The machine has been major hacked, Fibbies. Maybe is you who are doing it, in any event, please do your job and protect a legitimate citizen and his rights to express his free speech under the First Amendment of the US Constitution, thank you folks.





Yes, after the hacking struck me at eight, I played two roulette system games, losing two units on game one and making four and a half units on game two, for a daily hit of plus two units. To not be out a loser was a miracle, as this was a very freaking lousy day. I was helping my pal Mikey do some errands, as he recently had some surgery on his hernia and cannot drive until next week. Every single time I ever do good things, I get horrible strike backs from cosmos, forcing me to believe, that maybe even if there is a real and decent 'god' for all of the rest of you lucky cock suckers out here, THERE IS ONLY A SATAN FUCKING DEVIL, for me and in my life, and this has been going on for my entire human current lifetime or 'ADD', Astral-Plane-Dream-down; and this is nearly sixty mother fucking years now, so that is a long pattern to not be made fucking light of folks, YO. I do not do good things as many do, hoping that the wheel will swing back your way, but because I feel we are all here to do more than try and make a trillion dollars or be be selfishly happy or whatever is turning on the garbage majority world population this past few decades or so. I really want to be able to help out and do good stuff, what the fucking shit are we doing here for crissake? So why I am punished for doing good things, I mean I could see a neutrality, but to have a pummeling every time by some cosmic fucking unknown force, well; this leads me to be able to only conclude that for me there is only a so called 'devil', and that this devil, IS GOD, or better said, GODDESS ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lucky seven, huh, OYR. Tell me where the next bridge is that you wanna' fucking sell me folks.



Ever since the UFO shit began getting real heavy after the Roswell, New Mexico incident, something has indeed happened, and exactly what, if anyone tried to pretend they know, you should kick them right straight to the nearest curb. Watch out that their pants do not ignite yours while doing so, also. I never claimed to know it all, only that I know what I do know, and that I will jump on band fucking wagons about. As for 99+% of all the shit going down that has no rational explanations in the natural orders of things, hay, I don't know shit from fucking cunt shoe polish, and don't ever misread my words in Morianity, please, and take anything that I've ever said to mean that I know it all, as I have vehemently preached that I DO NO, all throughout my 7+ years of my blogging career. I only know that a lot of things that are not in the interest of the fucking MAJORITY, all began right around the time the atom bomb was first exploded twice in Japan to bring the greatest war so far fought here on Earth that we know about, to a close. One was the great Bureaus of the USA, and out of this Bureaucracies, the covert black ops ones being the specific ones I am referring to here. Still, I feel the very four syllable word printed above,speaks for itself. Study the the second half of the word, pronounce it, and come to see that all things tell stories, if we are looking for them, that is.



Again, I have nothing against the Dow Jones, but I told you all for seven fucking years, that these bastard Wall Street billionaires are intentionally making my life a perpetual nightmare hell, causing a parallel event of their evil markets to rise. They know exactly who to bless and who to curse, and who to leave neutral, it all has been experimented with by the black ops cove agencies, that, and many other unspeakable crimes against their own citizenry, World Court at the frikkin Hague. I have no particular love for the Phillies and Eagles and Sixers, or hate for the Flyers; but I merely know, and fully understand, how this nightmare fucking parallel event is real and being used intentionally on me, destroying my entire life that I'll never ever fucking get back, and these prick bastard bitch licking sewer scum got totally away with it from 1983 through 2013 and counting. Mighty-nite good SHEEPLE and people. Time for Chemtard Mountainpen to sign off and post, YO.









MORIANITY-4



SUPER HACKING ON THE COMPUTER, FBI AND FCC:





16 MINUTES BEFORE CUNT LAPPING MIDNIGHT, ON

27 FEBRUARY, 2013, MAJOR BAD FUCKING ASS LICK DAY:









FBI, FCC, things are REAL FUCKING BAD. The hackers are making my cunt lapping fucking jerk off life A LIVING FUCKING NIGHTMARE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Microsucks Corporation put updates on the machine, they do not need to ask, they just do it, as though they FUCKING OWN YOU, AND RULE OVER YOU, AND THEY DO. WE THE SHEEPLE OF THE UNITED STATES, IN ORDER TO SUBEXIST AND BE ENSLAVED, IN A LESS PERFECT UNION; HAVE ALL OF OUR RIGHTS THROWN OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW, BY THIS NEW AGE FUCKING GARBAGE, OWNED BY THE DIRT BAGS OF WALL STREET, AND THESE BILLIONAIRE BASTARD SCUM BAG GODS, WITHOUT HUMANITY OR CONSCIENCE WHATSOEVER. Now I cannot log off and back on without the magnifier program coming up on the screen all weird and fucked up, and I have to 'EX-out' of the entire program that I should be able to keep at the bottom of the screen, as they have hacked into me, Bob McDowell, FCC Chairman, and OLD SCHOOL PAL FROM 1971 AND 1972. These cunt lapping rat bastards are making my life total misery; where they fucking endlessly steal my life, my property, keep me down and out and ignored, and laugh and mock me every chance that they get. The reason there has to be a fucking hell, is because there is just no way that this kind of fucking pure evil can just exist, and with no place awaiting their evil cock sucking rotten fucking souls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It all started at the dot of fucking eight of the clock, the screen came on dimly and the sleeper orange light became bright blue, and I was not anywhere near the mother fucking cock sucking machine, ACLU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



What I have ever done to any of these mother fucking cunt eating twisted diseased total pricks, stretches very fucking ass far beyond my wildest imagination, ladies and freaking gents, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told what Scott Ransom said in my bugged car in 1988, I told about my uncle denying a loan, but I have no proof to substantiate anything. For all I know, Patty fucking Hollister and her great friend Santa are behind all of it. Who can ever mother fucking know, with this diseased cunt eating group of up chuck? I try and stay to myself, and fucking mind my own business; but there is no escaping pure fucking evil, and their endless ruthless rotten fucking ass games, BRAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



WATCH THAT DIRT BAG STOCK MARKET FLY ALL WEEK LONG, JUST AS I FUCKING TOLD YOU, OH GREAT GIANT FUCKING GINA OF THE NINETEEN-NINETIES, YO YO YO YO!

Mighty-Night folks, their fucking evil might, not ours, 99ers.



MORIANITY-4



I TOLD YOU GINA, AND I DEMAND MY PROPS, FOLKS



6:26 PM-EST, WEDNESDAY EVENING, 27 FEBRUARY, 2013





JUST AS I TOLD YOU ALL, AND I TOLD YOU 2 GIANT GINA. The DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL AVERAGE STOCK MARKET has flown RIGHT TO THE STARS THIS WEEK, and is up at record high territory, and WILL BE CROSSING OVER as the next and final two business days of this week come into being. It is just under 14,100 points now, and just a few points UNDER THE ALL TIME RECORD HIGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



This was all accomplished by persecuting me with continuous NOISE ATTACKS, PROPERTY DAMAGE, HEALTH ATTACKS, AIR PERSECUTION, and a lot more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Also, if I could have capped into my last blog, the movement as shown on the stock index charts, on the internet page; instead of what came out, and was posted up earlier; I may have been able to slow the momentum of this evil monster run away locomotive greed train down, but NOW, 'IT IS TOO LATE', TO QUOTE LOVELY ALL MIGHTY ISIS.



I MOTHER FUCKING DEMAND MY PROPS, PEOPLE. I TOLD YOU THAT THE MARKET WOULD FLY, AFTER A PISS POOR ROTTEN WEEKEND, GIVEN TO ME BY MY FILTHY DISEASED EVIL MOTHER FUCKING WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES OF THE ''IF''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go ahead ladies and gentlemen, and just keep right on doubting poor old puke chewing chemtard Mountainpen. Now, he is having the last laugh on you'alls. Here is where your great APE-ICPE cheated DOW JONES will be, as the weeks and months keep rolling along.



End of March, 15,000 points.

End of April, 16,000 points.

End of May, 17,000 points.

End of 2013, 20,000 points, JUST WATCH AND FUCKING SEE AND I'LL BE RIGHT THERE TO HOLLER OUT, TOLD YOU SO, TOLD YOU SO, AND YOU ALL FUCKING LAUGHED AT THE CHEMTARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where RU when I need you, oh great PRINCE, as my kid thinks I lost it a million years ago, only I did not; not it, HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



I am in no mood for fucking waaaaaaaabits, or McNulty jeer laughs today. Screw the mother fucking world, at the speed of light squared, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









END OF BWOG, ELMER DICKHEAD FWUUD!



























MORIANITY-4



IF REALITY-3 IS REAL, LIFE IS ALL A HUGE CONGAME



11:28 PM-EST, TUESDAY NIGHT, 26 FEBRUARY, 2013





Folks, the stock marked flew today, as a result of a huge siege and persecution against me all day long. Fire alarms, utility harassment, hacking, cramps, loud noisy neighbors, major telephone creditor harassment in the morning, and the list goes further; and we need not touch on every little thing. Despite a really bad day, I managed to make 6 units at my systems-roulette, bringing me to 13 units over and above my systems crash of 22 and a half units, about ten days or so back, or a ten day total P&L of 35.5 plus and 22.5 minus, or net profit of 13 units. Seems small, but I am lucky to eek out a lousy unit and change during a time where the DOW JONES IS FLYING UP TO ALL TIME RECORD HIGHS, JUST AS I TOLD YOU THAT IT WOULD, and I also told you that the WOMO-MILITUFORCE uses PARALLEL EVENT TECHNOLOGY or PET, in order to gain these evil criminal trillions on the streets of demonic wicked Manhattan. I want this made exceedingly clear folks, I have nothing against capitalism. Only the evil deeds of using or misusing and abusing would say it much better, the technology of APE or ICPE-TECK, same basic diff folks; do I, or would any rational sane mind; find 100% totally objectionable. You cannot walk over me and squish me like a fucking worm just because it gives you a great day. THIS IS A MAJOR VIOLATION OF MY CIVIL, HUMAN, and CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHTS, as a LEGALLY BORN CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES; not created on an RS-1500-US open reel mastering recording machine.







I asked the GAWNUM TECHNOLOGY or the GAGA kitty cat, why this day was so filled with heavy pummeling and siege by my enemies, and was given the answer of PCN-514. Here are some of the powerful items that are inside of my match-book for this number. Don't turn the page and die, 'daddy'.



KING NEBNOOSHOO-----ENDLESS POVERTY-----RUSSELL THAXTON-----BEACH-----CURLS----- as well as the great message on Isis's web-page in OHM-8, great Mister 1969 Ciprionni.



In case I forgot to tell you folks, GAGA gave me PCN-936 when I queried the kitty cat on why my tire was made flat almost two weeks ago. Most of you know how to work the GAWNUM, and have your own lists either from my past blogs, or from things that you have worked out for yourselves. I asked why the powerful dream came upon me where I had to see that horrendous violence with the pick of the goddess, aha aha aha aha Mike McNulty, and that was an error by the way, I do not intentionally ever make ethnic slurs on my blogs, like if spelled too quickly can be quite offensive to the Jews, and so can Mc if spelled out. This was not done on purpose, and is why I hate blogging on sites that ********* bleep you out if you so much as type in that you have a cute little pussy cat, or say ass much, with a second 'S' getting typed in by sheer typo error. When I want to get mad and say something, it will be said, and it will not be some frikkin typo, good folks. I told both Mashell Daniels and Dawn King on more than one occasion, when they said to me, ''Are you being a smart ass'', that I promised them, if I was really meaning to be one, you would be punching me first, and then asking questions later; as I knew their quick tempers very well. If I am really pissed off at anyone anywhere, I will come right out and explain it in vivid technicolor freaking detail, and you will not be left as a 'HANGING' HUNTINGTON OR HAMMONTON; or whoever you might be. I promise you, YOU'LL KNOW! But will you ever know the powerful truths of and about, a subject that I have termed many times, ''REALITY-3''? Well, if so, please share, as I'll kiss your ass on top of the Empire State Building at high noon with the major networks all tuned in, if that is what would be desired, but to be frank and honest folks; I have not been able to ever determine with totality, if there is something that is going on that acts on both me one way, and then these other things around me in the opposite mode and direction, and you all know by now what these things are, as they involve the winning or losing of the Philadelphia professional sports teams, and the New York Stock Exchange, and more specifically, the mighty evil crooked DOW JONES INDUSTRIAL 30 STOCKS.



I am not able to paste in the way the attack worked today, the CAP would not work and I could not show the exact way the markets moved along with my day, pretty clever, as I could paste all this into my blog, just not what I wanted to. WOW, ISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Market Data

  • Currencies
Currencies
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
EUR/USD
1.3061
-0.00
-0.02%
EUR/USDEURUSD=X
USD/JPY
91.9200
-0.05
-0.05%
USD/JPYUSDJPY=X
GBP/USD
1.5113
-0.00
-0.12%
GBP/USDGBPUSD=X
Commodities
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
Gold
1,611.60
-3.90
-0.24%
Gold Apr 13GCJ13.CMX
Silver
29.19
-0.07
-0.22%
Silver Mar 13SIH13.CMX
Copper
3.59
0.00
+0.08%
Copper May 13HGK13.CMX
Oil
92.64
0.01
+0.01%
Crude Oil Apr 13CLJ13.NYM
Bonds
Treasury
Yield (%)
Yield Change
5-Year
0.76
-0.01
TreasuryYield5Years^FVX
10-Year
1.88
-0.02
CBOEInterestRate10-YearT-Note^TNX
30-Year
3.08
-0.01
TreasuryYield30Years^TYX
ETFs
ETFs
Price
Change
% Chg
SPDR Gold
156.22
1.88
+1.22%
SPDR Gold SharesGLD
iShares Si …
28.41
0.34
+1.21%
iShares Silver TrustSLV
SPDR S&P
150.02
1.02
+0.68%
SPDR S&P 500SPY
iPath S&P
24.93
-0.63
-2.46%
iPath S&P 500 VIX ST Futures ETNVXX

MARKET MOVERS

  • Most Actives
Most Actives
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
BAC
11.13
0.10
+0.91%
Bank of America CorporationBAC
VXX
24.93
-0.63
-2.46%
iPath S&P 500 VIX ST Futures ETNVXX
SIRI
3.06
0.03
+0.99%
SIRIUS XM Radio Inc.SIRI
INTC
20.58
0.35
+1.73%
Intel CorporationINTC
ZNGA
3.36
-0.07
-2.04%
Zynga, Inc.ZNGA
% Gainers
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
CMGE
9.59
3.79
+65.34%
China Mobile Games and Entertainment Group LimitedCMGE
CWH
24.40
8.55
+53.94%
CommonWealth ReitCWH
SPEX
10.07
3.45
+52.19%
Spherix Inc.SPEX
IGZ
3.00
1.00
+50.00%
IGZ (Listing Market NYSE Arca NIGZ
MNOV
2.98
0.84
+39.25%
MediciNova Inc.MNOV
% Losers
Name
Price
Change
% Chg
FSGI
1.9741
-0.64
-24.37%
First Security Group, Inc.FSGI
RADA
1.46
-0.39
-21.08%
RADA Electronic Industries Ltd.RADA
VRTB
1.08
-0.26
-19.40%
Vestin Realty Mortgage II, Inc.VRTB
VSI
51.44
-11.78
-18.63%
Vitamin Shoppe, Inc.VSI
ENMD
2.83
-0.64
-18.44%
EntreMed Inc.ENMD






Jeb, George P. Bush talk education in Texas
1/20
AUSTIN, Texas (AP) — Former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush and his rising-political-star son, George P. Bush, spoke together Tuesday in Texas on education issues, and both men resisted efforts to get them to talk in detail about future political plans.
Associated Press - 1 hour ago
Analysis: The 'fever' that Obama has not broken
20/20
WASHINGTON (AP) — President Barack Obama promised this time would be different, that if he won re-election, a Republican "fever" would break and legislative gridlock would ease.
Associated Press - 6 hours ago

Market Summary

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Dow

Dow Jones Industr...

13,900.13
+115.96 +0.84%

S&P 500

S&P 500

1,496.94
+9.09 +0.61%

NASDAQ

NASDAQ Composite

3,129.65
+13.40 +0.43%

FTSE 100

FTSE 100

6,270.44
-84.93 -1.34%

Market Headlines

Barnes Group Inc: Fundamental Stock Research Analysis

Quotes are Real Time from Nasdaq Last Sale when available, or delayed from primary listing source. Currency in USD.


    THE SYSTEM WILL NOT PERMIT ME TO CAP IN THE MARKET ACTIVITY FOR YESTERDAY, BUT IT REFLECTS PERSECUTION OF ME AT TIMES WHERE IT NEEDS TO GO BACK UP, SO IT DOES, RIGHT AFTER EACH ATTACK. I USED TO HAVE A HUGE FILE BEFORE THE GREAT KINGS TOOK IT ALL AWAY FROM ME, SHOWING THOUSANDS OF THESE KIND OF HOURLY MARKET MOVES, AND HOW THEY PERFECTLY CORRESPOND TO MY DEATH SIEGE ACTIVITIES OVER DECADES OF TIME, SINCE THIS STARTED IN 1986.
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    • Photos of the Day





    • 555555555555555555555555555555555555555555

      THIS WILL COMPENSATE FOR PAGE ELEVEN OF ELEVEN, AND SEEING LOTS OF CLOCK ATTACKS RECENTLY AS WELL, JANE SLEAZE LOUISE. ANY-HA FOLKS, THIS BLOG WILL GO UP NOW, AND I AM OFF TO FRIKKIN BED.



      MIGHTY-NITE FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

MORIANITY-4





UNDER THE PERSECUTION GUNS AGAIN WITH OTAMMIC BULLSHIT



11:28 AM-EST, TUESDAY, 26 FEBRUARY, 2013





Here is the situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, and any and all other Morians, Lessians, Inbetweenians; and other L-4, and other entities not listed, who follow Morianity.



It started last night with two things, and followed up with two things so far today, and it is not even half way into the fucking day yet, so I COULD USE SOME HELP, SHERIFF MASCARA, if you can possibly watch out for me, thank you sir.





Last night, I went to use the computer, and despite AT&T telling me that no one can break into the wireless connection, someone had, FBI, FCC, STATE POLICE, and other authorities, as the mouse was unmovable and stuck in my PC-DOCK section. I had to do a forced shut down to get whoever was in my system, out, and restart. Never in all my time on this machine, have I taken it out of sleeper mode, and it was already stuck on some task, unless it was one of those Microsucks things that you cannot ever get rid of that keep getting in and updating without the users permission. To me this should be criminal too, but then who am I, and who listens? Then I went to bed and was awakened out of a sound sleep around a quarter shy of seven give or take, to a monster fucking fire alarm. Then between half past ten and half past eleven, it was loud hall hollering and door banging out in the hall, by my uncouth, lewd; and low life crummy neighbors. Also last night, they slammed in very loud, nearly busting the door, sometime before I had posted up the previous blog, or had done something on the computer. It is one thing after another. It is either very quiet on good days, or all hell is busting out around me on the bad days, and Sheriff sir; this is not real good for me right now, so please arrange some protection, as maybe Isis is angry with me, as who can ever tell with this All Mighty being who moves through reality unconsciously, as easily as you and I breath the freaking air?



I made another three units the other day on my systems roulette. Mike had his brother take him out of the hospital yesterday, and it is too complex to get into. He is home and unable to drive for at least a week, until he fully recovers from the surgery.



As for the nightmare with the mafia mechanic at the Hammonton Triple-A, that was simple to eventually figure out what was behind all of this, and as I said right along from the go-bat of these blogs, the RPLDD is not going to go away any freaking time soon. Where did I go to when I was out on those million errands that day in late 2009, for Dawn and Ann, and my car did not start because I had left my car lights on while doing one of the errands, and all ready had a weak and bad battery? Yes, I was supposed to be towed to the garage right up Central Avenue to the W.H. Pike, only it finally started, and I drove up, so that I get could a battery charge, and told them I did not need a tow, after-all, I was already there. Still, later that night while watching the AT&T sponsored L&O show, there was that mean teasing commercial about my being a what, well not a chemtard, right Lizzy McGuire? Anyway, all things make perfect sense, when properly analyzed, well, most things I suppose. Some things make total sense, but remain outside of the endless ranges of human possible reasoning. When things like this are all someday reasoned out and understood, we won't need a lot of bloggers or Lizzy's telling us to behave ourselves. Oh well, at least there are no lizards or Gecko snakes involved, YUK. It seems Jim Burr is right all along, and always has been, you know, when he said to me how nothing just happens, it is all somehow ordered. This did not mean he did not believe in free will, and this is one of those examples of the human reasoning being temporarily stumped, as this seemingly is a large contradiction. So are many things as well, only they are anything but, and make wonderful sense; that is if we sit and ponder long enough on them.



This little tweet-blog will end for now, and I have a lot to tell, that will not be appreciated, so hopefully, the authorities can keep the dam MILITUFORCE off of my back and things will stay quiet both here with me, and on the blogs of the Mountainpen.





BYE-BYE, ice picks and others, WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!





      5555555555555555555555555555555555555555.





MORIANITY-4





MOMMY SILVA AIN'T YOUR BUDDY, MARK MOHR



MISS SLEAZE BAG TIME AM-EST, 25 FEBRUARY, 2013













Many of my viewers know that in 2009, shortly before I left New Jersey and escaped Dawn-Marie King, a very nasty bunch of things got spoken to me, from her, when we were alone in the house together, because Ann King Silva was at a cousin's funeral on an overnight event, due to distance involved. Among the things said, was a very true statement, not in the real nasty category, but still in the mean category, if such a list was being made, and that was, ''Mommy's not your buddy''. Dawn-Marie was very jealous of anyone that was too close to Ann, and if she had only this reason for coming to detest me so much late in 2008, and worse still in 2009; this would be more than sufficient. Still, I knew when she said it, that it had some validation, and I did tend to trust parts of my daughter's wild distant family, a bit too much, for sake of my own safety and general overall well being. Let's just leave shit right there, Dick Wolf. Still, I am so fascinated with the Trump-Wolf click, that seemed to know every minute detail about me and my life and my family, from the very first swinging of the bats. This would be like saying the four digits of 1984. Same diff. Now my Uncle Heinz was really the hubby of my moms first cuzz, Ruth Huntington. They married, and then I was later led to believe, that she died in 1977, from a flu shot. According to recent medical statements, nobody ever died of a flu shot. This leaves murder in my opinion. My 'UNCLE' did remarry a younger woman very shortly after the sudden death of this vivacious and otherwise quite healthy woman, and the internet made her totally disappear out of view, and only shows the second marriage of Heinz Gottwald, not his first, to my Aunt Ruth Huntington Gottwald. This man had lots of power, knew Donald Trump Senior well, and I think was instrumental in denying him a loan at one point in time, for which his son was told about it, and of the entire family; and since the very start of things, this dude has had a bug up his ass for me, and even 'GAGA' gave me PCN-550, when I asked why he did. It may appear that lots of topics are being all merged together, and they are. They all connect, but no one who is not connected into all of this, can fathom it. Still, since the WOMO MILITUFORCE loves to play a certain game, and they know what's getting said here, YO, then I will do likewise. You know, goose, gander, bird, worm, Lawyer Dworkin, hotel keys, L&O shows; and so on and so forth. While I was in my last days and weeks at the home owned by FBI AGENT Steve Caruso, at 841 Thirteenth Street, in Blueberryville, New Jersey, AKA Hammonton; the L&O television show aired some really powerful episodes that all three together, being sheer coincidence that knowing things about me had nothing to do with these scripts; would be somewhere around the odds of 32 trillion to one. This is mathematically sound, can be backed up, and still, could indeed be all a coincidence and all of this is merely, as the quantum physicists tell it, happens to be that one time in that huge number. Me, I don't buy it for a mother frikkin new York half-second, but that's me. You can all go do whatever you want to. I do not believe it is possible and I am telling you why, Trump, the loan, the NBC Network, all the shit this bastard has done to me to mess with me and my life ever since 1984, and the list is endless; but let us harp on one single point on this blog, that connects one of these really powerful late OH-9 L&O TV shows. This would be the episode that begins with a Global Warming Conference and the dude saying to an audience right before collapsing and dying with blood coming out of his nose, ''I have the worst headache''. Boom, he falls down dead and it was murder, but this is just to tell you the episode and time and year. It had the name of Silva in it as well, as in Ann King Silva, but that is not the kicker. Here is the real kicker. First, get the show, examine it real good in connection with my story on these blogs. Then after all of that, listen to the part where the lady says the precise thing that you will hear on the chemtrail video that I posted to Youtube in 2012, with the opening quick little part, before the drumming begins. Now just because the post was done in 2012, and the song lyrics as well, the music was done in 1996, and was the original music to my song called, ''Sarah'' and still none of this is the absolute powerful kicker. Now here is what is. The illegally recorded telephone conversation was from early in 1984 to the time traveling Lab Technician by the name of Sarah J. Cobson, if I can be cute here for a second, and get a laugh or two, with no assistance from any staircases. So if you ever get a chance to see this episode of the L&O TV show that begins as I said here, from late in 2009, listen close to a lady who says, 'uh, uh, I don't know', the exact precise perfect way, that this technician said this in 1984. This Lab Technician is no human being, it is my daughter; and she has powers that go beyond the stars, her name is Isis. Find this great goddess on the internet and see for yourself her captivating unfathomable awesome sheer beauty, and total likeness to the greatest pop diva of all time, Mariah Carey. Can I prove any of this? No. Can they prove that I am telling you all a pants on fire lie? NO. I know it is the truth, or I'd not dare put this shit in print, and then hit the 'post' button, chemtard or no chemtard, Agent Slick Highgas. Hay, look at this as a boxing ring, YO. You punch, I punch, you punch, I punch, if you ever wanna' frikkin stop punching, then I will as well, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I have perfect memories of seeing that Throat Specialist that day, but none of anyone in that office, no patients, no Lab Tech, and zero memory of the trip there, or the trip back home, from Academy and Grant, back to 506 Robin Hill, in Voorhees Township, on a lark or not; huh screeeetch?



And another thing folks, speaking of mergers and acquisitions, and loans denied by my 'uncle' who before retiring, was in charge of approving or denying loans, over ten million dollars, for businesses; since his position at Chemical National Bank of Manhattan, was Senior VP; the Sara J. Cobson make out tape, that was responsible for the horrendous tsunami in the Pacific Ocean earlier this century via my electronic-metaphysics; took place at Office Max in Voorhees Township as well, and also not on a screechy lark. Still, for someone who did not do all these things to me as told on my blogs, from the Haddonwood days right up through right now, why did my son in law go out of his way to advertise the 'monster-ass phones' last year, after knowing about how I remember him and his statement of my monster ass tapes? It is not complicated rocket science L-4. A guilty conscience is always going to reveal itself, head on, back door, or side winded; but it always shows up, one way or the other; and with or without any freaking Swiffer Mops.



Then there is that day at the laser show, or night really, and it was no show, as it took place at the Letts basement, and again, Lark girl, in Voorhees. WOW, can this beat all get out, Mister dad of Superman? Well in any dam event, there are peeps who have been moving back and forth through time in this world since forever, and this is the best kept secret in 'history'. When it gets proven and exposed every so often, on a global scale, 'THEY' merely make a few alterations in past times, that prevents what would have happened from ever happening, gee really, is this another one of those, like DUH's??????????????????????????????? WHAAAAAAAAA! But this still falls very short of the mark when the full blown topic of PHASE-2, 3, and 4, is discussed at any real length intelligently. This quick phrase is why there is such a thing as ART or even imagination and talent, here in waking world hyperspace realms of physical beingness. Do not confuse PHASE with TYPE, as in Exploratronics, or the great collective club of the universe called, and this exists now, and always has and always will, the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND, or for short, just the 'ES'.



This has not been a good weekend for me, so you can expect a flying DOW JONES STOCK MARKET this week, YO!



MORIANITY-4



NEIGHBORS, NIGHTMARES, NUTS, AND NINNYS



4:28 PM-EST, SUNDAY AFTERNOON, 24 FEBRUARY, 2013





Both today and yesterday in the late afternoon, my sub box butt wipe nabes across the hall, turn up their garbage music for short durations, and then cut it back down. Total ninny behavior, unless one is between perhaps four and fourteen.



Beginning on Official Presidents Day Holiday back last Saturday, the INTERACTION FORCE, really has been quite alive and well, and as the great man of religious wisdom would add here from his middle seventies great book about Apollo-Lucifer; living on Planet Earth, and most definitely to add onto his quote here, ''and in my frikkin neighborhood to make already sore festering wounds, filled and loaded with pure sea salt''. Slam-Bam-Boom, at 4:34, these dirt bags are at it good today, and it is worse than yesterday. They are total inconsiderate assholes, to say the least.





It is an overcast hot afternoon, and yesterday here in town, it reached about 86 degrees, and it's even higher still, down in Miami about 100 miles to the south. Today was a couple degrees cooler and more overcast, WEEEEEEEEEEE. Nuts seem to be not only everywhere, and I am speaking all five dimensions, not just in this one little parallel universe here, but all over the 'great place'. I crashed and burned up as I said I would on my previous blog, and before I came back here again, and around the time of the afternoon neighbor noise, I found myself back in Hammonton, New Jersey, and yes; in a very monstrous situation, and this is what it was, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson. I drove over to the Triple-A Garage where Central Avenue dead ends at the White Horse Pike, and my parents were both with me in the car, over in this parallel reality; and I asked for five dollars of regular gasoline, and was given eighteen dollars and sixty cents worth. I had no cards with me, just a five dollar bill. The evil man at this place was an enforcer for the New Jersey Mob over in this parallel world, and he told me I would pay him cash money, right now for the gasoline, or else. My father managed to hear this go down while exiting the rest room area, and he fled the scene in terror. My mother was holding a small piece of very colorful remnant carpet, trying to appease this huge evil man. He then walked over after taking the keys out of the car, and putting them into his overall pocket nice and deep; and grabbed a man who also owed him a few dollars, and showed me what happens to those who won't pay him his money. It was some distance away and I had trouble focusing at first on the incident, and then suddenly, unlike over in this universe, my eyesight suddenly became great and crystal clear and without any glasses. He then took an ice pick and after tying this man in a sitting position, placed the ice pick on top of each of his toes and then took a hammer and slammed the ice pick with it, causing the toes, one by one to fly right off the feet of this poor pathetic and terrified looking man. Blood was gushing out everywhere. Then the man laughed, looked at me, and went and placed the same ice pick on the mans middle top foot area, creating horrible wounds all over the top of his feet, eventually making the man pass out and limp right over into unconsciousness. Then he came over to my mom and me, and demanded his eighteen-sixty right now, or else. He had taken out some kind of a small cubical device that began sounding like a nasty subwoofer fully cranked, small as it was. He began placing it on parts of my body, and the pain was excruciating each time. Then he said, give me my fucking money you little 'chemtard'. Now here is where you need to know something. A few days ago, I learned that shortly after I had posted up onto the internet, my blog from last Saturday, somebody made a comment on my page on the Youtube, called the paulaking2011 channel. I thought it was funny and cute, and everyone, as Michelle Daniels back in 1980, at the recording studio, told me; is entitled to their opinion, even me. She worded it a little differently, and we need not go into what caused her to say this right now, other than it had to do with repressed memories that I had in my carry-baggage, for eight long years at the time, and something I had spoken to her in response to something that she had just said to me. Still, this will explain to some small degree, in a human-world explanation anyway; the statement made by that monster mechanic at the Triple-A place in parallel reality, to me about paying him his gasoline money or else. Without going to that Youtube Channel and then clicking onto the video called, 'Chemtrails of 1987', you just will not get the full power of this blog, with or without any bridges, rail-road tracks, or crossovers, minivans, old techno-pop songs from the early eighties, or paternal side distant cousins and their friends and their television shows that got zonked off the network right after my attempt to re-do this old song, and post it up to the Youtube, which finally occurred, back on the good old when else, KARGE DAY, AND EIGHTEENTH DAY, back in last December, in twenty-twelve. Anyway, I was in-between these agony strikes, as the great Mister Palvo ''Check-off'' of the original Star Trek, and the following motion pictures, knows about so well, in his own parallel universe experiences of the mirror-mirrors, bearded Bob Spock; when suddenly, there was my mother, laying on this rug, and it was flying up in the air. She too was escaping as did my dad. They had abandoned me with this horrendous inconceivable deplorable monster creep mechanic. Then the box got louder until I suddenly was laying in a bed just hearing the sound of it, and after a few seconds, I came to realize, it was my nabes playing their short quick burst of subwoofer attack, as they did this weekend on several occasions. Then a door slams shut a while later, and things grow quiet, or at least quieter. Some may want to know whether it is in the LAWTRONICS of the original DREAM-OUT that controls this transdimensional thing that most of us have indeed experienced, where we are 'dreaming' and suddenly a sound from the waking world becomes part of the dream and then eventually, we awaken here and the sound is what it is here, even though it was something different in a parallel space. No peeps, it is not a Lawtronic thing, other than Lawtronics is behind any and all things laying on this side of the Void Truth, where we just simply exist at, unlike at the void itself; where there is nothing, so there is no Lawtronics either, as Lawtronics is something.





I will be helping Mikey when he is released shortly from the Lawnwood Regional Hospital. He had a lifelong condition with his hernia, and things last week totally went south on him. Oh well, at least things could be worse, Michelle, first, I could still be back working with you and having IRC arguments, and instead I find myself here in paradise, WOW. Well, I plan to never again use star gates from the attic, crawl through any fence holes to follow any toddlers into secret lit up areas filled with flashing strobe boxes on one side and used diapers on the other side, and most certainly, I will never tell Chuckie that I'm up a tree ever again, as I was being a bit facetious with him back in 1971, over in Haddonfield, New Jersey, at the Pennypacker Park, on that spring afternoon; only now, in all candor, I do not know what I could tell this dude, if he ever lived to get out of prison and made a life for himself. Chucks Gym, great idea, I love it, I loved it then too Mister McDonald, so go for it buddy. You totally rock old pal. As for me, let me do my 18 and out. That is all I want, I'll do my time, 18 and a third, AND OUT. Let me out of here, Warden Coldgirl, thank you, and yes, nose plugs are always available. Me, I am only in need of the earplugs, and yes, I do use them here in a PH BUILDING, WHAAAAAA!



I have not played roulette this weekend due to a lot of nasty shit in general, but before this time, I ended up making back my entire systems crash unit loss, plus an additional two units as well. If things ever lessen for me again, I'll play more games. Why fight a bad 'magnetic', to quote the great Donna Diva Summer? Still, as Gawky knows only too well, PCN-615 is a self compatible PCN, and is the number for both, ''Mark Mohr in 1980'', and ''Created Donald Trump on a tape recorder''. The PCNT shows zero 1-2-3 Lovers, huh US © Office. His problem with me, well, GAGA CAT says that it is PCN-550, WO, WO, WO, WO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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MORIANITY-4



MAKING THE MOST OF WHAT WE HAVE, RIGHT OJS?



3:21 AM-EST, SUNDAY 24 FEBRUARY, 2013

MARK WAYNE MOHR OF FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

© 2006-2013 ALL MY BLOGS AND URL'S





Ever since my last days of seeing Sarah on Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, New Jersey after the summer of 1969 was over, I began to slowly grow near sighted, and eventually after a year, it grew worse and worse, leaving me with a rotten pair of peepers. One of the five sensory systems, seeing physically, is not my strong point; and this needs to be noted before the story continues here.



For reasons that do not always make sense in the every day world, we all have those gut feelings and intuitions, and only women seem to be really allowed to advertise this very important part of the human talent range, but that's tough beans as my Uncle Stuart used to say back around these times and days being spoken of here, because I am a male, and I have a lot of those gut feelings, premonitions, and intuitions, and I go with them, and am right a lot more than I am wrong. Nothing of course is perfect, just as Bruce Pennock used to say so well.





I always believed as years went by, that this very elusive mysterious teenager, Sarah, for not being more friendly with her back on her street; took away my vision, magically. You know, if I won't look at her, then I won't look at any other girl, at least clearly and not without a thick pair of eye glasses on my head. Of course, there were contact lenses, but in those days, all of that just was never an item floating around in my mind. I only began to see this girl as magical and powerful, after she came into my dreams in middle December, following the last time I ever saw her physically back the previous summer in 1969, and she took away the motorcycle chain that I had in my locked strong box in my apartment bedroom closet, in this dream, and told me quite specifically, her full name, and spelling it for me, SARAH KRASSLE; and telling me that when I wake up, to go ahead and look for it and it will be gone. Sure enough I woke up, did as she said, and it was really gone. When I got on the school bus to go to school an hour or so later, that was the day that a gigantic three angle criss crossed jet vapor trail was formed in the skies above the entire Camden County, and began slowly dissipating into the most incredible and beautiful item that I had ever witnessed in my just fifteen years of life as the me that I am now, physically. This was all exactly 18 years before I was a grown man working as a security guard, at the American Honda Plant, on Gaither Road, in Mount Laurel, New Jersey, in December of 1987; with or without any ratios, or rations, or New Jersey SORA test questions, or chord jiggling anti-hacking from 1983 and 1984. Still, all this lays a needed foundation. The great 1970 football player, Orange Juice Simpson or 'OJ' as we all remember from my Haddonwood days, was on a television show at this same time, with Chad Everett, who played Doctor Joe Gannon; and was called, 'Medical Center', a very great medical show, and also said in the episode where he pushed his wife down on the bed and ripped a payphone off of a wall, in paraphrase, something along the lines of, we have to use the hands we have. He was speaking to a boy who had just had his hand amputated. Not many if any, persons played on the 1990 through present time ''Law & Order'' television show, that also played in both Medical Center and Star Trek's original show financed by Lucille Ball and her company, that almost became another western show, instead of what it was. This was no accident. Also, I know of only one actor who played in all three of these shows that I am a great fan of, and this would be a man who I do not know his name, but on Star Trek, went by Agent Gary-7. I told on several previous blogs how the two co-agents he was working with before they died accidentally in auto crashes, were given three digit numbers, one matching Estelle Bassler's telephone exchange in Atlantic City when she resided at 30 South Plaza Place, as well as the address on Tennessee Avenue, of her hotel property, the Piccadilly Hotel. She owned the Bolivar and the Piccadilly, and ended up selling the Bolivar to Sara J. Karge in the late sixties and buying it back from her in the middle seventies, before she left the area, and moved to Ormond Beach, Florida. The odds of these code number agents matching up to a phone designation or the three digit prefix number in-between the area code and the final four digits, as well as the property address on Tennessee Avenue, are very high, around a million to one against it just happening by accident. In the Star Trek show where this agent had come on a mission, to the Earth, and was intercepted by the Starship Enterprise, and was episode titled, ''Mission Earth'' if I'm not mistaken; he had a place in Manhattan, and a secret system that could send him from there, to distant places; such as the NASA Launch Pad; and it was in appearance, extremely similar to the coaches locker area, in Cooley Hall, in Haddonfield, New Jersey, that has been discussed. Now my rotten eyesight needs to come into play right about now. Even with corrective lenses, my sight is piss poor. I am able to drive and am OK to perform normal tasks, but I am merely saying that I would not be the go to guy if you needed a good accurate description of a witnessed event at any kind of distance from where I would be standing, nor would I be the one to be expected to remember your face after a meeting. This is not my strong point. What I lack in visual acuity, I make up for in my sensory part of my beingness. I feel a lot of things, not just what is hot or cold, or painful, or soft or hard, or whatever; but my feel-sense allows me to feel things, to know not to trust you, to know what is going on around me when there is no explainable way for me to do so, and along these lines. You can scoff if you wish, as I do not have anything to prove, and am saying this merely to lay down a huge foundation. I always knew that this GARY-7 dude had some very special connection to me and to my life, in ways that go far beyond just this actor-person, but more along the lines of the characters he played and portrayed in his parts as an actor, all fit into numerous possibilities of items in my own personal life, beginning with Distance Elimination and Sunram, and his Manhattan Suite with his own chamber. Then came 1996 and my search for Sarah, years later, and I came to learn the two three digit numbers, perfectly matched up with Estelle Bassler's telephone number, and property address number. Many folks can easily dismiss messages in cosmos like this, but do not count me among them please. I have even figured out why the strange effect happened to me at the Somerdale Death House that I blogged about as well, where I would stare over at the venetian blinds in my bedroom, and the name that the Camden County Prosecutor had intentionally given me to throw me off my search to find this girl, Sarah Kessel, and why he did this will most likely never become known to me; but I would hear the name in my mind every single time I would stare over at those blinds if I was about to lay down on my bed which would face me in the direction to see these blinds. Sarah Kessel, Sarah Kessel, would go through my head, and then it would grow even stronger, after the 30th Anniversary of the Star Trek Show came on, and I saw and taped it on my VCR from my bedroom. Every time that I would view the most popular voted three shows ever, one being titled, ''The Trouble with Tribbles'', again, it would make me stare at the blinds, and I would hear the name over and over again. I cannot speak for 'venetian' other than the name representing a neighboring planet we have next to us here on the Earth, Venus, but ''blinds'' as in blind, or as in losing my eyesight very quickly without rhyme or reason, just like the choking condition of 1983, for no explainable, rational reason; but more than ever, I began to 'see' Sarah as some kind of dangerous frightening powerful 'witch' or something that had me totally locked and under her magical spell. After-all, it was after I no longer saw Sarah again, that my eyesight began to go down hill, seemingly at the speed of, well, sight, light, you tell me? Still, it took a while, but as time went on into this twenty-first century, I started seeing why that particular episode with the 'tribbles', on Star Trek, was fitting into things. Also, I began to realize much later that this 'GARY-7 actor', was in all three of my very life long favorite television shows, the original Star Trek, Medical Center; and Law & Order. Then in 1980 came the powerful black cat into my dreams, with the lottery, and how this cat could always predict the Pennsylvania three digit outcome every time, straight or boxed. This is also a connection to the co-agents that Gary-7 worked with, both with three digit numbers of varying combinations of them, and the show was years before the New Jersey Lottery began in the middle seventies, and one of the first states to have a state lottery, if I'm not mistaken. Still, all this and even more that I could go on with here, folks; does not start to unravel powerful mysteries; but I will help this all along. I began believing that the Astral Plane Gods were the ones plotting all these nightmares and games with me, as the eighties and the nineties came and went, and this present century came into being. But even though I studied what human-kind had in its records about them, and even looked at statue photos and likenesses of many of them, it took me until last night and watching the H-2 Channel, to put a huge giant dot connect leap into play. The name of the black cat that was always in Gary-7's lap in the Star Trek Show, if you study the likeness of this gorgeous goddess, well, as I said, my piss poor eyesight has slowed down a lot of things in my life, and now, finally, I can see a likeness to this goddess that is beyond unmistakable. This agent called this cat after the name of this Pleadian Goddess, and after I began my blogs and put up the website called, Morianity-Foundation, in the middle of the twenty-ohs, and spoke of the Pleadian mythology, this is when a lot of things began to come at me at velocitronic speed. There are 100 things that I could say beyond this, but would not dare to blog it all; movies, things done, things said, stuff that happened to me after this blog project all began in early 2006; and on and on. Still, this Astral Plane Goddess Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, has lived in many parts of fifth dimensional hyperspace, enjoying interacting with her creation in various unlimited ways, and still is known to many as Scylla, Jehovah, and many other names used by various cultures the world over, in all the worlds of limitless hyperspace of multiplexed parallel universe realities. There is always a chance, that I can be wrong, and will not be as totally arrogant as is my distant cousin. There is a chance that I only think I really am on this Astral Plane, but in truth, am on some super world of the Pleadian star system, where indeed the great I Goddess would be, seeing a city that I could not fathom, and her awesome power and beauty, and ability to pick up a giant ocean liner vessel and fly it around, and watch the buildings along this wild curvy shoreline, move by, with endless brilliant colored lights all over them, that for all I know could be solid jewels, lit up by the brilliance of this goddess's hair that would blind a human in a fraction of a second. What I have seen and witnessed is real, but I just may indeed have misinterpreted some of the facts. Finally seeing the Goddess I and her likeness to MC, in human form, is blowing my mind beyond words today. She tells me I will never get away and will never escape her, that I am always her THAT-BOY, as she calls me. Well, I have no problem with that at all, only that I wish I could come to understand her game a little bit more, and that she would try and remember consciously just who she really is. This is enough to drive anyone beyond the Indian Coocoothrow Sikeward, even without the most beautiful chemtrail in the world that she gave to me as a lifelong memory, back in December of 1969. But take these things all together, and it becomes Lunacy City. My sanity is losing its race, and my shoes are bright bloody red. All mace cans are empty now, and Karge burned down the hotel a long time ago, but she did a lot more than that. I know all your great secrets, Scylla my endless love. I just want you to know, and I know you read my blogs, that I will always be here for you, no matter what you may ever need, no matter what is involved. Yes, I still do need your codes to show, it has been so long since they have. You look so beautiful with that giant chain around your neck. I just hope this means we are chained together, All Mighty I. Without you, I AM NOTHING, and there is nothing, and all these blogs are but NOTHING.



I am going to crash and burn now, so congratulations Tony Stewart. You peeps have got to be more careful, that was really awful, YO.





NIGHTY-NIGHT, YOUR MOON IS LOVELY, DIANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





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MORIANITY-4



FINISHING UP LUCKY SIXTIES USSR FOLKS, AND OTHERS NOT SO LUCKY



FEBRUARY DEVIL NUMBER 23, TWENTY THIRTEEN

2:27 ANTE' MERIDIAN, EASTERN STANDARD TIME





No flowery talk tonight peeps, just quick straight up stuff. I won't even throw in a lot of freaking profanity, just gonna' tell it short and sweet folks, so listen or go elsewhere; do whatever turns you on.



I'll be talking about a way to un-hack a freeze that most seasoned hackers do not know about, I'll be talking about why the owners of this world will not allow the general larger viewing public, access to my existence, my art, my anything and why they hate me so much and do their best to influence others to follow suit in their shadow as well. I'll be also discussing more details in a follow-up of recent prior blogs regarding exactly why we have our fifth dimensional personality and lives, and in easy words, why we live good or bad or neutral lives as well as why we dream good or bad or neutral 'dreams', and last but in no way least, the truth of chemtrails and the chemtrail or trinitrail of 1969, and the goddess who ordered it made while inside her human mother. Sounds like a belly full huh people, well, Jonahs Sat Nurine might agree with you, but we certainly are not going to be revisiting the powerful awesome year of twenty-ten, not on this blog or this day any-ha! Yes for the young crowd who do not know or could care less, but may be reading these words, and young is such a relative term, hell my oldest daughter will be turning forty three in about a month, but yes, there was an old nineteen-sixties bubble gum tune played on the radio a hell of a lot, called, Back in the USSR, if I am correct in the title, as this surely was the theme that ran through the song, so if the title is really Bugs and Flies, well, neighbor Jim Stafford of Cherry Hill, New Jersey, sorry for being wrong. In any case let us move this along nice and quick and easy, shall we?







We are going to open this up with lucky people, without boring anyone on this blog about the interaction-forces, and a lot of freaking mathematics, the casino gaming industry, and so on and so forth, et-el. Before I say one more word on this blog, let me try and make a few of the nicer folks that view my junk, hopefully a tiny tad wee bit more understanding about my paranoid nature and personality in general, as well as my glass-half-empty attitudes and outlook on life, at least according to the great twin of the other bay, from late in oh-eight, or was it early in oh-nine, but it is all on my blogs at blogger dot com to be archived should anyone give a dam, and if you don't, please do not think I will be crying tear one about it, and I would say it is your funeral when you do not listen to something big that I tell, but really, that is bull-crap as we are all already as dead as the lovely Roseann Delaney of Park Avenue, or is it West End Avenue on the west side of Crystal Lake Avenue? I cannot quite recollect, as if this matters a smidgen and a third any-ha, WHAAAAAAAAA. But without getting off point and onto a geometric tangent here lads and lassies, I learned that my pal Mikey took quite ill the other day. He helped me twice when my enemies vandalized my automobile, and they do not like people who help me. This is why I forgive certain peeps in my life for their actions, and I know the score without my hands in my pockets, Glenn from Mars Graphics, YO! LSS, he is quite ill and is in the local city hospital. Do I believe in coincidence? No I do not, and here is why. Jim Burr is the one who said and put this quite elegantly, adequately, and even perhaps eloquently, many decades back in frikkin time peeps, you see; I do not have the 'LUXURY' of believing in coincidences. Most of you out here in the every day world, do have that luxury. You can, you may, so maybe you do and maybe you don't, but you do not need to for your best interests and personal survival. I freaking do not have this luxurious option. If I lose my paranoia, my WOMO MILITUFORCE ENEMIES will have my head on a pike faster than Michael Jackson could brake dance around and scream out ABC-123 back in '83, thrilled or not! People instinctively want nothing to do with me, as they recognize the powerful mysterious reality around me, that over time and the past 5-10 years now, I have called the ''HUNTINGTON CURSE''.



Now let me tell you that the chemtrail subject is very powerful. The reason I know it has nothing to do with all the million websites and Youtube videos, not one bit. It does not matter how long it has been going on, as there are old movies that show plenty of them that date back into the early sixties and before the lucky USSR song ever got its first airplay on the radio. Still, if I told you that as with anything, from lollypops to Mary Moore's famous green dress on her 1970 show, with Ed Asner; this topic has multiplexed complications that cannot be quickly glossed over right now, so I will come right out and just tell the main parts, and there are peeps who are so scared that this topic will lead to the start of a full blown revolution in the United States soon, that if necessary, they will make you vanish into the night along with the illustrious and eminent Marie Fahey, the victim of Mister Capano of Delaware, back late in the nineties, when so many wild things were truly gearing up and shifting somewhere between overdrive and overkill. First, a large group of observers of this phenomenon began to grow late in the nineties, and as the Quantum Physicists will tell all of us, this is the force that drives reality, and not the other way around, and yes people; another of my many perfect frikkin examples of reality always appearing in its inverse state, to us waking poor mortals. Still, nobody is spraying out anything other than jet fuel so the jets can move along in the sky. I know it looks like a huge change has occurred and it has, and I will tell you all what it is, and you won't like it. Mortals have a basic seven decade lifespan and if averaged out, men and women, in all the nearly 200 countries of this world, it always seems to basically average out between 50 and 90 years, or 70. This planet, good old mother Earth, has her own larger time schedules. One of numerous ones is the IAC, or the Ice Age Cycle. It is thousands of years long, not 70 or 140 or even 210, but thousands of years; so mortals have a problem trying to see any real accurate truths that pertain to the interaction between themselves, and this lengthy IAC. Still, despite it not being exactly so many years from hottest hot to coldest cold, it does average out to a period that no tree ring science can hope to properly date correctly, and that would be in very long run play, 22 thousand years each way. Also, within the larger cycle, are several smaller cycles within cycles that tend to confuse those attempting to try figuring it out. In the age we live in presently, things crossed over on all three major cycles, right as the jet engine was first designed. The atmosphere is what is changing, not the jets, but those in power who want to cause fear or panic or even persecute and harass those on lists that they have in the covert black-ops agencies, will use a redirected aerial traffic pattern if it fits into their plans, making things appear to be what they are not. Folks, in case you don't know it, jet fuel is dumped out and frozen instantly, and even during normal operations, this propane mix of chemistry is not healthy for people, and the aeronautics folks have known this a long while, and have no plans to do away with high speed jet traffic any time soon. So as with all things, jerk offs can make, and do make, many things appear to be what they are not. They love to play games, to fuck with people, to act mysterious, the entire world owners are a bunch of baby boomer spoiled brats that are seriously overdo for the spanking of their lives, only who can spank these cock suckers? This is the entire reality of the CHEMTRAIL PHENOMENON, nothing more, nothing less. Still, do not underplay that I said that this fuel is not healthy, does cause flu like symptoms, does cause throat irritation, does cause voice damage, and the list goes on. Also, it is my belief system that Joseph was not the only one on Earth a long while back, visited by the star family, trying to make alterations in various hyperspace time-lines, via STM and or using the knowledge of Type-3-Exploratron travel. I made a fatal mistake of trying to think that I could merge several of my problems into one gigantic collusion operation. Normal people with low budget finances to deal with, do not fight the powerful people of this world, and come out on the side of the fucking angels. They are the angels, the evil wicked ones but THEY ARE THE POWER, they own, they rule, they control. They will not be stopped by Michael Moore or his Occupy Group that seems to have closed down and bounced their little balls all the way home for dinner and tuck in time with mommy and a story book. We are no match for these gods that rule, and we never will be, not with all our posts and videos, and all of it. Still, this is a huge condensed version of what I could totally say and tell peeps, so live with it for right now. These are the people who can make my nabes across the hall mess with me, and swing up the Dow Jones way over 100 points, as they did this afternoon with me, or really, yesterday disasternoon. My blogs for more than seven years now, have attempted to tell dribble and drab pieces of a humongous sized story of truth, and called by me, MORIANITY, but that is all it ever can be, as the entire thing would take a fucking library of space to tell it.



I tried hard to tell Paul Pedersen back in 1998 and 1999, that there really are people who control all the major things in life, be it in the world of music, and or any other kind of entertainment, athletics, politics, business and finance, social contacts, all of it; and they do not like me; and I was told this by a man, when I bugged up my own automobile, and intentionally got him talking after he had told me previously, and I quote, his name is Scott Ransom, he was in the real estate business back in the late eighties, he worked for Jackson & Jackson, and a man named Kelly Jackson who owned this realty company back in 1983 when I first met him, and his exact words to me that he said were told to him by Kelly Jackson when he was threatened not to try and sell my Kramer Hill, New Jersey home, ''Very powerful people are disgruntled with you''. Exactly why this is true I do not know, but I do know that in the eighties, especially the early eighties, I cannot fathom what I could've possibly done to anyone, and especially in positions of great power, that caused this; but I know it was no fucking hoax. This was all real, very real, and it all happened; and I know that this is why I not only can not ever get anywhere in life, but every mother fucking thing that I have ever tried to do, has not only totally miserably failed, but I have had people tell me, and this is an exact basic quote, ''Mark the way things happen to you, it is as though you want to fail at everything and be totally miserable, at least this is how it looks to us''.



Now I told you that there is a way to un-hack a frozen computer that does not involve shutting the electrical power off, and it will force an instantaneous shut down. You simply go to your headphone jack part of the tower, plug in anything at all, and jiggle it around and in and out completely, until for whatever reason, and I have not got the foggiest notion why it does it, but it suddenly shuts completely down. There is a lot of magic to jiggling cords and really, causing strange electromagnetic fields to build up in the alternating house current that power companies deliver to us. I knew all of this in the early eighties, and maybe, JUST MOTHER FUCKING MAYBE, this is one of the reasons, that powerful people are so god dam disgruntled with me, Mister fucking Jackson, and Mister fucking Ransom, of the nineteen-eighties, YO!





Now I have talked about the fifth dimensional hyperspace, and why the average human being from babies to anyone of any age, require about nine and a half hours out of each 24 hour cycle, for sleeping and dreaming, and how this amount is two fifths of 24 hours, and how we, while asleep in dreams; are awake in the other two fifths of the five-DHS, that we are not living in while awake here. But what I never have specifically discussed on any blog, ever, is why exactly, we have the type of life and the type of dreams that we do in fact have. Basically, what we think is happening to us, awake and asleep, is a powerful, and gee what else is new, ILLUSION. It seems that happy successful people have all the great dreams, and the miserable folks like me have the nightmares, for the great majority of the time. This is pure illusion. This is the wavy heat arising from the distant asphalt on the summer road ahead of us while driving. It is a lot of bull-shit. Many folks do not remember their dreaming interactions hardly at all, some never do. None of us remember the ones very often, that go against our normal flowing routine of waking life, so the memory that consciousness brings us for the great majority of the time, will be dreams that mirror image our waking life, so the miserable people think that the spirit world is misery, and the fortunate think it is heavenly. This is all crap. Dreams are not the spirit world, but just other parts of hyperspace. To our doppelgangers over in those alternate realities, we here are their dreams. Only the Astral Plane itself is the spirit world, and to access it in most cases, you need to use a method of Astral-Projection, or do what Morianity has preached all along, USE THE GREAT 6-10 FASCITAR, a system that without the great Patricia Hollister in 1974, would not ever be on the freaking internet today. So thanks to her and her friend Santa, it is available to be archived and read about, and yes, I will get into it again for those that wish for me to do so, just not right now, YO. You of course can be your truer Astral self by projection methods, but you can also explore hyperspace or alternate dimensional reality, by employing methods totally different than this, making you a TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. Doing these things, unlike religions that teach contrary doctrines, are not going to send you into eternal punishment and burning fiery hell, or cause your life here to become awful or catastrophic. Human controllers have used the fear of death and hell and eternal punishment, to control global civilizations for countless time now, and they are the ones whose karma for lack of a better word, will be severely damaged, and their balance out for doing this, in other parts of their total fifth dimensional beingness, will indeed be hellish and dark. Payback is built into cosmic law. Touch a hot stove, and be burned. Go into a tough biker bar and yell 'all bikers are scum bags' and instant trouble comes your way. Jump from a great height without a parachute, and you will be injured or killed, and the list goes on virtually forever. No one will ever get away with anything. Believing that they will, is probably the ultimate and absolute stupidest possible thought that you could ever entertain inside of your mind. The cosmos screams out at deafening levels, that this is not the case. Just because many things do appear to be couched in mystery and cloaked with invisibility; do not be so easily fooled and swayed, friends and fiends. Nighty-nite!









MORIANITY-4



BACK IN THE LUCKY USSR, AND THE SIXTIES



5:28 PM-EST, FEBRUARY 22, 2013, FRIDAY EVENING





Well, old ex buddy, Paul; I will say one thing for you, and that is, &^#@#@!%&*(%(*!@^&*(_)%#$@%!@. Well, here is another.

I really love peeps who are so appreciative of their fellow humans who went out of their way to do a lot for them, and then they just spit at you, and tell you to go to the devil. But he did give me some advice once that I only wish that I was able to follow. He said to stop living so deep inside the pond, try to come up to the surface a bit and join the world of the average chilled out level of pure simplicity. I want to do this and want badly not to always be taking all the things around me, and putting them into very deep caverns, where they are then explored by me in extreme detail, and epitomized scrutiny; that would make any science lab, proud to be a witness of. Yes, I want this. I want to be able to do this. I've tried hard to do this. Those who are blind try hard to see, but they don't. Those who are totally crippled up with no hope of any modern medical procedure helping them, really do want to walk and run. They really do folks. But the trouble is that we all come into this mother fucking world, as we are, and seemingly for the most part, even destined to be certain ways, have certain types of interactions, and all though there is a lot of free will, and choice menus in the life-game; it is still on a menu page, just as food is when you go out to eat in a diner or a restaurant. You may select, but the selections are within a limited menu, handed to us when we sit down at our table or counter. I know this is true, and I have lived enough of life, to know what I know. I do not know a lot of shit folks, but I do know what I do know, and you can sit there and laugh or tell me I'm full of it, but as I said, I KNOW. Never would I have any desire to take away your freedom to disagree, but still, I KNOW. No PP, you really and honestly, sir, are 100% clueless, to just how lucky you are, and instead of spending the rest of your life hating me, you should at least instead, spend that same energy on your freaking knees, praying to your god ATHEISTA, that you are you, and not me, well; for all I know, you do this already, so I'll just shut the fucking shit up, and move stuff right along.





5555555555555555555555555555555555555555













Folks, here is the 'shituation' for both you reading this in the twenty-first century, as well as back in the fifties, for you, old pal Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson. Between about 3 and 5 this afternoon, my across the hall dirt bag noisy nabes, attacked me with a major in and out door booming session. It has been worse, but still, I know when I AM being pummeled and assaulted, by bottom feeding swine! I know why it started at three also, even without seeing any market reports. I AM quite sure that the last hour of the trading day, experienced a major bullish rally for these cheating bums on Wall Street, and my old arch enemy shit head cubed, DJBT himself, is always behind it, and has been since my car blew up on the way to his PLAZA OPENING, back in the spring time somewhere, in 1984. But now it is time for the real huge TRS lads and lassies, so if you are not in the mood to get hit with a verbal high speed big rig truck, get off of this blog-beach, and take the Jersey Governor with you. Move it over to the NEXT-BLOG, and read the story of Anthony Teedlestopper and his miniature race-car collection, or try Cousin Thugs and his poison breakfast recipes; but if you choose to stay here, well; you've been warned this will get a little bit serious and ugly; so if the 'other McGuire' does not approve, she can switch over as well, lovely as she may be. Mister Wow, I cannot keep the secrets totally, not as much as your offspring may hope and wish that I would, and if you want to sue me, then remember, you cannot take away a mans bed, and all my stuff is just Goodwill junk, and I doubt any judge would value all that I have of sufficient value to even be legally taken should you win a law suit. Also, to sue, slander and libel must be proven, and I know that I speak the truth here, and so does the WOMO, and all of their evil wicked representatives on temporary vacation right now, from HELL, right Steve Murray, old buddy and so mighty?















I might even let you stay, for an hour or a day, with me. And my Morians, well, they can stay a tad bit longer if they wish to tarry along with the quintessential man of woes and sorrows; after-all, shit runs in the family, and we all know this is true; horrible horrible fucking shit runs in families, so shut the fuck up MARK WAYNE ASSHOLE MOHR B4 it really is 2L. Ani-ha folks, here is the barely bloggable shituation, inspector, and by the way, the best to you and hats off to Ron Wirtz Senior's old bud from the Yard over across the Pond, huh Chophead Godead Queenie of late gee could it be another, yes-sir, 1984, WOW RH!!!!!!!!!!! This sure doesn't stand for RED-HOT by the way, so let us no longer co-write any new or old waltz's JS, but thank you for 1910, my friend, and of course, for Lawtronics and STM, for permitting this to all be so, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Looks like an escape, one flew over; we all know that one from 1976. What you don't know, is that I AM THE INDIAN, and am not alone in this nightmare. But if I talk on, they'll be cleaning blood and gore out of this apartment for the next month. Oh you think you have gotten away with so much, don't you, Mister NBC SO WONDERFUL? Well, forget the 550, forget the way you managed to get here and do all this magic, forget how at my discretion, I could end it all for you on a dime. I would rather you suffer, as I tell some stuff, old pal. So you think, Ralph MacInvondi, as you exist in a parallel universe, quite a bit taller and a lot financially poorer; that I do not know your most powerful secrets and this includes what you did to me that I've been blaming the fucking family for, since about OH-NINE? Give me a little time to prove you wrong, you mirror kissing arrogant slob. It was you all along mother fucker, who did all of this, and you know what, I want you alive and right here where I can begin to make you fucking miserable, you pig. You haven't seen a thing. You do not control every global media source. Soon pal, I will break hearts all over this world, and you will be the most despised bastard on this planet. Where were you when I needed you most, drummer boy, Fred Hinger???????????????? There is no statute of limitations on huge crimes, and I know you have shit on my family, but I have a lot more shit on you, because you did something that the great BLUEBOOK would be quite interested in, and all I have to do somehow, the gods help me; is find a way to make you step right into the shit punch, and goddess as my witness, I will, you slob. L-4, do not give glory to this rotten prick, do to him what he has the world doing to me. When you so much as give him place, it is just like offering him over for dinner, along with Lestercan McKinnon Diabolis, and all the other monster dragon child sacrificers of the McGuire/Gallagher Club of Chicago, the other recurring nightmare of my dam life, only recently realized for the fucking shit it truly was and is all this goddess dam time. If you are reading this, anyone from AV, be it RY or TB, do not let my family tell you lies about me. Tell them to go to hell, and hang up the fucking phone. Yes old room-mate, I know you have worked out many GAWNUM equations, I may look like a silly dummy who flew over the nest in 1976, and Mary Moore and her Network friends all hoped I would stay in the sike ward forever, well, sorry to disappoint you all. I will watch each and every one of you in a living hell for a trillion fucking Kalpa, you see if that is a bluff, as you will have a horrible nightmare as soon as you lose your worldly awareness the next time, wait-n-c!













Yesterday, I made back all the roulette units lost on that systems crash back nearly a week ago. TOLD YOU that I would, GINA, and my other wonderful peeps out here, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!















I asked the great cat a lot of questions over the past three days, and do not dare discuss it right now, while I am weak, and have no good protection set up around me. But all of that is gonna' fucking change very soon, and yes, WOMO, WO, and indeed, 'MO', I'll promise you 'THAT', ROCKDROID!



WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABIT, it is time for the DOC to say BYE-BYE for right now. Screw all of you enemies who hate me for no good reason. As for my loyal few friends, I WILL promise you things someday, that 1000 GODS could not deliver to you, so stay with me here lads and lassies and any and all entities from wherever, as I don't care; I AM not a prejudiced entity, and do not care if you are the dam east wind, or the next incoming meteor. Diana, your moon is so lovely girl, IWALU, and SCYLLA; right Kent Soup Codeshow?



MORIANITY-4



EXPLORATION OF THE NON-VOID CONTINUES HERE:



12:23 AM-EST-FEBRUARY 22, 2013, FRIDAY MORNING:





Everyone exists at zero dimensional nothingness, total void. We all dream out and away from this EWI or (Existence Without Interaction), onto an arena OF interactions with THINGS beyond ourselves, even though we are only 'dreaming it all up'. Eckists know this, and call the spirit world, the realm where the imagination originally exists, and they would be totally 100% correct. But enough of these energy depleting interactions will cause an energy drain where we do not return to the void, because this is where we truly are, so there is no 'going back' to some condition, where we already exist at in truth, but rather; we dream-down or into this lower fifth dimension HYPERSPACE, of which this world, and universe, is all a part of; wherever you may be reading this, somewhere under the stars above you. Seeing things in your forward-mortal way, things are always seemingly seen and viewed to us in a reverse to its real truth. For example, we see a totally flat world, when really it is a sphere and round. We also perceive stars and outer worlds and the sun as well, moving around us; when it is our world, the Earth; that really is moving, or spinning in a rotation. I could go on and on, but why; as you either see this truth by now, and say you're right Mountainpen, or you're saying, fuck you buddy, you're fulla' shit. Going on with more stuff here will not alter opinions already made and formed. When we lose Astral Plane energy resulting from many minnina kalpa of interaction, or interactions that have no true or ordered connected amounts of space or time but if all collectively could be measured, would appear to seem and feel as periods of approximately 888 not rotations, but solar revolutions of Earth around the star called Sol, our sun, but after about five to seven of these MK periods, depending on the vigorous amount of total interaction on this spiritual plane, we will fall asleep into these human dreams. Again, another example of perceiving this entire truth that encompasses us all, is absolute complete reverse from what it actually is. The Astral Plane, does measure things using the MK and even 888 of these items or the KALPA, just as we on this lower physical realm or plane of existence, measure great distances in space, by using amounts of it that light travels in one of our solar years of time, as otherwise, just one of these would measure such a very large number, of just more than six trillion miles. Nothing is in any kind of an order, and all of this was once explained in greater detail, on a once existing website that I owned called the ''MORIANITY FOUNDATION'' and this was not just a blog on a Google owned website called Blogger. Now the site is gone and defunct. Soon, I am quite sure, the great powers to be, will charge for bloggers, as they already want us to upgrade to premium blogging type service, which is nothing more than a college degreed way of saying, we want your fucking money, YO. Dirt bags that already have everything, will not share any of it or allow us to make any of it for ourselves, and then have the unmitigated audacity to call us lazy, attitudinal entitled, and bums/welfare rats, and the evil mean nasty names read on and on. Most people want to work, want to better themselves, and do not want to be a burden on society, but rather, be productive taxpaying members of the community. But when scum bag world owners who rule over us covertly in ways most of you don't even dare to try and imagine; it just is not possible to break out of the shit-cycle, and then THEY, the WOMO call us no good bums and rats with entitlement attitudes. How I love the hypocrisy, because just as when we look at poor behavior, be it a misbehaving child in a public place, to a reckless rotten road driver, most decent folks like to try and learn from the experience of witnessing the incident, and then do their best to again, 'REVERSE' this behavior in their own lives. This is why I have said for nearly a half century, even as a boy myself, that we can all learn from all things, even the bad shit we witness. I am no hypocrite, and pity those who think they are not, but are. How my old pal and relative, Sir Jesus, agreed with me, as well, long ago. What a family I'm a part of, SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOT.





Now don't get me wrong, there are plenty of decent and nice and honest folks, basically, all over the place. I speak on my blogs a lot about those who do not exactly fit that bill and this makes me guilty of being a prick myself, and for that, I'm genuinely quite sorry. Hay, my life freaking stinks to hell. I try, and I am far from disproving another great old school chum, who did not go into his family's chosen profession, working for the great government of the United States, and I of course am speaking of Bruce Allan Pennock.

Folks, I promise that I'll blow your mind on how to explore, just stay right here with me, and 'MORIANITY'. I'll close out with a tiny teaser for right now.





If all of us are just existing at VOID INFINITY, and all of this is a huge DREAM-OUT, first onto the great Astral arena, and then further down to the lower physicality of the 5-D Hyperspace, many are curious to how the mechanics are operating behind the great invisible OZ-CURTAINS, or why we live the lives that we do, and have the dreams that we do, and on and on. The quick answer that does not satisfy anyone on a non ZEN level, would be that the way we dream out and away from the void is done first by entering the realm of LAWTRONICS. From here, all the circuitry's come to be, and the first item from there that comes into being, is the MIND REALM and the source of any possible ordered mind, so that it can then separate into individuality and begin experiencing the Astral Plane or existence in what mortal mankind calls, the spirit-worlds. Complex Quantum Dynamics equations, and the physicists who 'think this all up' have their version of what this is all about, as do those who just as much, 'think' in more religious and deity connected terminology. The pivotal and keyword is still, in both and any possible case, ''THINK'' and comes from the realm of ''MIND''. Again, the great Eckists, or religion of Sound and Light, based in the area of Minneapolis, Minnesota, United States, if I am not mistaken; are the closest to knowing these powerful truths; and somehow and for reasons unknown to me; the All Mighty SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KARGE KRASSLE, has imparted what they 'know and think' to them, despite them saying it comes from their experiencing these realms, as things always come down to arguing plain old fashioned semantics. This is another constant truth that does not seem to ever change, and wars begin over disagreements caused in the 'realms' of semantics. All through history, we all worship the same GOD, the god of one god, many gods, no god, science, thought, higher realm experience, and at the end of the day, we can call this higher power by a trillion possible differing names, and the world really is just too dam stupid to ever get it; and realize that we all are after the very same thing, and only James Redfield, seemed to really totally get this great truth back in the nineteen-nineties, and keep it to this very day, as if some force in the IF-PAWM-PIE-ETTOS and or whatever rose that you may decide to name it, all of you Shakespeare fans; we all want peace of mind, and power over our own destiny. Those who feel most inadequate in a series of dreams, no matter if they are multi-billionaires or whatever, are those who feel the need to bully, and be over and above the rest of the crowd; and be better than you and me, and feel truly in their beingness that they are better, and finally; need to have power over them, out of sheer fear that without a preemptive first strike, they just may wake up one day with us somehow getting power over them; a truly pitiful epitomized complex of quintessential insecurity, CUBED! I genuinely feel sorry for the big shots, even those who have made it their business to make my life a living hell, because they are so scared of poor little me, who knows all the truth about them, and to me, they have no closets, no places to hide; and this scares their pants down, Copyright Examiners; just as I told you long ago, and still maintain my same claim right now. So a lot more will be told oh diary journal dear, so stay with me, and you will hear.









MORIANITY-4



MORE AIR HARASSMENT STARTING UP , NEAR 3 AM:



3:00 AM-EST ON THURSDAY, 02/21/2012







Beginning at ten minutes shy of three this morning, a loud and spurious MILI-2-FORCE air vehicle is flying low and loud around my building, something not done that often any more, and normally when OTAMM-SCUM observes me in close communion with either LIGHTNING or the MOON, same basic thing in ASTRALITY.





Folks, I did not play systems-roulette yesterday, but the day before, I made another nice profit, and have come close to getting back all the units I have lost. Here comes that vehicle again. No, I AM incorrect, I looked and saw what it was this time after three passes, it is a ground vehicle, some sort of a spray truck, and I AM getting a sore throat, I sure wish I could make a believer out of my daughter, but have given completely up on that pipe dream. I really thought she would listen and believe, since things went similarly the same with her as they did with me, and let's stop the flood pretending, most of us know exactly what is being said here and know that the details of it are not really safely bloggable, as some things are really just too big, like TRUMP dirt bag opening his first New Jersey casino called the 'PLAZA' back in 1984, when I saw Lab Technician Mizz Doogie Howser one afternoon. Oh the miracles of those hot day watery road illusions, and dream schools, huh Gawky?





Older peeps remember well that before all of this, even before my June 4, 1983 attack, there was the strange and quite unexplainable water cravings from the great disco diva, Donna Gaines Summer. This is all not connected up like an ant can whoop an elephant in a fight. Dig me, B-Ball man, Mister Barkley, sir?



Oh yes, just a few units shy now of coming even from my systems crash of a few days back. I was fully confident that I would win it back, and it was my fault twice over now, first for playing on a worst possible hour and time of death siege and major botbar conditions, as well as not stopping at half that amount lost which is a simple indicator that shows up inside this system, and each game is unique unto itself, and this will all be explained eventually. The poison spray truck has left, since he saw me looking at him, turning down the block on Avenue C, heading west and left, up towards Eighth freaking ass Avenue. I AM pissed off because the mother frikkin stupid machine is hacking out somewhat; continuous repair programs popping up, and then not allowing me to capitalize the 'E' on Eighth Avenue, for about three times. So before even more bullshit starts happening, just know that the powerful dreaming-interactions, are really back on a roll for me these days, and at a later time; I'll tell a lot of really major super cool stuff, but right now is not a safe time!



MORIANITY-4-----SO SAHWEE SALVADOR OLD BUDDY, WHAAAAAAAA

WHERE DOES IT ALL GO, GRACE COOPER RIVER PARK MESSENGER, 4 YEARS LATER?





Governor Jesse Ventura talks about time travel, in ways that totally connect up with stuff from my own personal life; including the chance that his own distant relative, Salvador, was sent to me in 1965, to show me, and not Miss Wescott; how to tap my fingers in really cool ways, so that 'lightning' will respond to this, up in 1983; on a telephone receiver.










YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER, TUNE FROM 1983





NEW 2012 LYRICS TO FOLLOW THE HARMONY MUSIC





TRACK ALONG WITH: Only the opening title words are real.





To sing along with the new 2012 lyrics, go to my blog and click the SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0555, and scroll down until the page comes up with the words to the song, YO.







Here are some other very interesting video links to Youtube postings, for those interested in my story, as most of these will connect what Morianity is all about, in one way or another. Hay, if you're not interested, that is your business! Sorry Charlie, Morianity no longer posts links and leaches.










HAVE A VERY NICE DAY, PEOPLE.

Before you have that real nice day, the submarine dreams at Highview were all coming when I was going to the Haddonwood Swim Club, and they were all over the near shoreline of Long Beach Island, not far north of Atlantic City and Brigantine, in New jersey. But there was more to those dreams, and it involved stuff way up here in this new present time, and only recently have I been able to see the connection and correlation between these events. More will be told later on this topic, as it is a real good time now to say the word, and so I will, like, **W---O---W**!!!





















FOR THOSE WHO MAY WISH TO VIEW 'CHEMTRAILS OF 1987', OR 'YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER', OR 'GENERAL BREAKDOWN AT MUSICIANS SIKE WARD', just go to the great Google owned Youtube, and type into the search bar, paulaking2011. THESE 3 VIDEOS ARE ON THAT CHANNEL.



YOU CAN ALSO HAVE FUN GOOGLING MY INTERNET HATEPAGE

BY TYPING INTO A GOOGLE SEARCH: 'MEET MORE CRACKPOTS FROM NEW JERSEY'.



WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.







MORIANITY-4



NEVER ENDING SIEGE AND INCONCEIVABLE PUSSY ACTION COMMAND AS A RESULT, AND YOU'LL BE SORRY:





THE SKIES ALL OVER FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, ARE FILLED WITH EVIL UGLY CHEMTRAILS, OLD BUDDY, PRINCE, AND DISBELIEVING DAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, its your throat and your loss, all of you who think that Prince and me are whack jobs; sawn all of you. But if you happen to feel like going to the YOUTUBE, why listen to little nobody me? YYYYY not type in ''Prince talks about CHEMTRAILS'' in their search box, and voile. Then if you want to get a little more Doogie Howser action from the days of the great AMTRAK ADVENTURES of a non-superman, then type in ''CHEMTRAILS OF 1987'', YO YO YO YO YO.



Also, on my past long compilation blog, towards the end at the chapter called 'Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda IF's', there is a magical Irish Leprechaun, by the name of Internet Photog Hyperlinkmagic; and he has a photo to show you. It is near the end of the long compilation blog, find the photo. As soon as you click onto it, the time freezes, but go back later and click, one minute there is a boat there, one minute there is something else, but when these chemtrails are around my area; they usually show up on the 'magical technolep page' that belongs to the Palm Beach Television News Station, Channel 12. Go there right now and see the trails, if they are there, then grab your videos and shoot all you want to, and make lots of new YOUTUBE video posts, folks; as we need all we can get, before these sick mother fuckers end up choking us all to Doogie Academy Roads death, if they don't first annihilate us with serious influenza strains, as well as pulmonary dysfunctions and funerals that follow. I of course can only be made sick, I CANNOT DIE. I am the dude in 1984 from 1406 HIGHLAND AVENUE, in Cinnaminson, NJ-USA-ES-MWG; and am why the movie and series all got started. Disbelieve that, and wow, you have one huge tolerance for coincidence, Mizz Abigail Carmichael.



I played a systems-roulette game, and I was able to make back six and a half units out of the 22 and a half that was lost on yesterday's super fucking dick licking evil BOTBAR!





When I went out to see Debbie Marotto at the twin building where she is at today down the road of Seventh Avenue, we had a good talk, and I need to call the police which I will do shortly, and report the incident, to get the ball rolling, she said do not go over to the police, as they'll want to come over and see the car and talk to me in the apartment as well, then perhaps they may try and poke around and see if anyone saw anything, if nothing else, she says it may scare away the jerk offs from flattening me over and over again, as once you get a criminal record, you are life long barred from living in nice cheap 30% of your income rent, Public Housing. I doubt I am worth them risking being life barred just to keep vandalizing me, unless the cannons of ethics pay better than they may appear to be doing. WHAAAA. Hay I don't forget anything, YO. I was there at the GATHERING PLACE PSYCHIC SHOP that day in June of 1996, and then later on that day at the pay-telephone where I stopped, miles down the Black Horse Pike to tell my mom that I'd be a little late for dinner, and was on my freaking bloody shoe way. You monster asses. So now my losses have been cut down to 16 units over a two day period of super mother fucking BOTBAR and DEATH-SIEGE-HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





I asked GAGA cat why the CHEMTRAIL SIEGE is so bad today, the nineteenth of February of 2013, on this fucking cunt lapping Tuesday, and was told, ''MEOW, MEOW, and PCN-561''. Here are some matchbook items for this god dam answer number given to me by Professor Gawky Gaukauk of The Teck Bay Mystery School of Province Olympia, out in Phase-2-REALITY, not actually a 'real place' but a condition-interaction, if you can stretch your mind a little bit past sex and boom boom loud ass music, and reality shows; and all the other mundane total nonsense of this new age global society, and new world disorder.







I am omitting the items that have smaller obvious and instantaneous connections to why this horrendous siege is going on around me, day after fucking cunt day after ass hole dam shit eating day, peeps, YO. The main items are:









SMASH---MY ENEMIES WERE SCARED THAT---HEARTS AND HANDS IN SERVICE---CURSE---CHOKE---TRUTH---DEMON---JERRY HEITZMANN.





NOW FOR THE PUSSY COMMAND. Just please do not believe me, that is what I DO NOT WANT anyone to do, in my enemy group controlled by the IF. Oh no, see it for yourselves. There is no way that the local post office on Orange Avenue here in town, is not under continuous video surveillance. So cue up the mother fucking tape or digital video or as Rob Andrews said as a teen so often, 'whatever', and look on this date, 02-19-2013, Tuesday afternoon, somewhere around the time of a quarter before four this afternoon, give or take, and as I walk in, and the entire time that I am there trying to see if I can pick up a federal tax return form as once this is where folks would go, and now it is done at the local library where I will be on Thursday morning getting my taxes done, and I'll get the form there as well, but while I AM inside this post office, two of the cutest young twenty something female's were all over me, and would not stop flirting and staring at me; so you just keep this non ending death siege up, especially up in the fucking air. I do not claim to understand just WHY this major fucking PARALLEL EVENT between this happening to me, the persecution day after day and then the pussy action; I only fucking know that I would go into a fucking court of law, UNDER OATH; and swear that I have witnessed this reality in and around my life, since about 1990 or so; and it has barely slowed down, and I am nearly sixty mother fucking years old. One day my Milituforce ENEMIES will harass me right into a lovely hot awesome fucking wife. Then as MC would say, 2-LATE.

OH WOW, I MAY NOT HAVE ALL THE DAM ANSWERS, PRESIDENT MCCOY, BUT THEN, WHO DOES, SO WHO CARES? STILL, READ ON MC-SHAKEPEARE-BETH, YO YO YO!











SO, IS IT 2008 ALL OVER AGAIN, LILLY ANDREWS MUNSTER?????

Yesterday, the chemtrail attack, indeed grew far worse, and was major, the sky attack on Thursday and Friday was off the freaking scales, and this is why our kids all have ADD, ADHD, mood swings, uncontrolled anger and paranoia and anxiety attacks, and all the many other psychological disorders and conditions that once were considered to be very rare, as well as the adults living in these post chemtrail days, more frequently are engaging in road rage, sports rage, work and scholar rage, and all of us are become the victims of numerous breathing disorders and immune systems attacks and weaker immune systems and new flu’s and illnesses are all over everywhere prevailing over the human race. Just Google up CHEMTRAILS, I do not make this claim, Google it the truck up, don’t believe me.



Ed admits that WORD programs are constantly hacked by hackers, I do not care how many or how great his damn fire walls are. Even he calls this {MICROSUCKS} when he is in the right mood. I do not have to understand how things are done to recognize that indeed they are being done. When 53 and one eighth years of this happens, you cannot be imagining it all, as this would be against all odds. Ed calls me DOC because I do not remember things and I am under pressure and stress that he could not begin to ever really grasp. This is sort of a code-nickname, but first thing tomorrow morning when I leave here and get to his pad with his newspapers and this machine, I am walking in and saying to him, “Morning DOC”. Let us now review the early part of the prior document or CB #27, the start of paragraph #2. It should be reading in sentence #2, “With all of the entire cosmos”, not ‘cosmic’. A short second later, it should have said, “35 black playing chips valued at $100 each, and randomly place”, not [a] randomly place, I do not write stupidly, it is this stupid lap top of Eddie’s that constantly updates programs and does things, and I have seen it happen. When these things happen, it stops the type and omits letters being typed or even occasionally alters what you type, it is real and he calls me basically a liar, yet when I politely disagree with him on things, he raises his voice and says he does not like it when I call him a liar, and I am not even doing this, he is taking it that way, and how someone takes what you say when you are not trying to say something nasty, is their business and their problem, and shouldn’t be mine, only it always is mine, I am always the prick and the bad guy, not just here and now, I am speaking of my entire freaking miserable damn life!!!!!! Now onto the next, “yesterday’s hack or PBHE”: About 2/3rds the way into paragraph two, the words, in capital letters, “ALL GAMES” has a comma after this and then it should read, “an ALL-GAMES-TOTAL-SPIN, only the hackers freaking scrambled up the word games into GASME, like their famous sue/use, two/tow, and so forth. Later in this prior Friday’s blog, did you get their pathetic whittle HACK JOKE, with the “TEAR 2000”, when I of course typed in the YEAR 2000?? Remember the James Patterson dark glasses rip off in the LIFEGUARD BOOK? This sure has nothing to do with Mizz

Pippins’ in a grocery store. Don’t laugh, you haven’t got a clue what is happening, or what I know, or what I am looking to get and can’t; and how it could change the planet overnight into unrecognizability. If I was really the nut job that the Trumps want you to think that I am, would I honestly have wasted this much time and energy, meticulously writing all of this blogging material over a 2-3 year period? Just think about it for a minper without a booming stereo in back of you, be quiet and think for just a second. My website has a guest-book. Persons wanting to know things are always invited, but I will turn away from a closed mind with extreme speed. I do not have the patience or the time to be insulted or messed with, no games. Gawky gave me a lottery number that came out in the autumn of 1980, and he told me the other night by human reference frame, that soon I must leave the United States behind forever, or I will be driven totally insane for the rest of my natural life, and be useless to Stacey, myself, or anyone. I will leave Gawky, believe me pal. To put up with this much foolishness, MAKES ME A DAMN FOOL.




Stacey wants me to tell something, but she is going to have to do something for me first. If she wants this so much, then as Moses would say, a little falling manna for the hungry wouldn’t exactly hurt. I will say this much before the manna drops, if it drops. Maybe I made more than 490 stupid moves in my life, but I had more than 490 stupid reasons and fears behind my decisions. If I cannot be forgiven and given one more chance, then maybe I will just stop all this blogging and let you find another entity to work through. You are a hard task master. I am not perfect and you should know that; if anyone knows that. I do not know or care about the stamps that I mentioned; as it is not money that I am interested in. I need more closure than even Gawky gave me. I need to know why me. Why did you do so much for Donna, and leave me to rot here? Donna got it all by making that deal and THAT BOY got whirled into a damn twister the size of Utah. WHY!! Stacey, you want man to forgive 490 trespasses, and now it is your turn, my teen queen.





As for TRS or Stacey’s Dogtown Vengeance, here is the biggest one: It would not matter to the people in charge of pummeling me to kit, if I had more international exposure tomorrow morning than Brittney, Hannah, Paris, Trump, and Pitt; all put together, and told all the secrets I have told, as well as all the ones I could tell. These entities that currently are people are above and beyond any of it. This is not a poker bluff, and I know this now. It is beyond futility and being hopefully pointless to waste my time and energy any further on this strategy, as simply put they do not care, but I must tell the world in good conscience why they do not care, since I know, it is duty, total duty to tell this, there is not even remote choice about it. Remember in prior blogging texts I have told you all with authority of certainty, that humans and human governments are not covering up Ufology or any other huge secret along these or even similar lines. Humans cannot keep secrets, the missions in the middle eastern part of this world over decades of time proves this, and so does the fact that the military itself, is the inventor of the expression, SNAFU, or Situation Normal, All Fowled Up, real servicemen are not that polite about the F word, or said better, the [F] letter in SNAFU. Humans could not ever keep astral secrets, not in 4 million gods forsaken years. It is those above these humans and above any of our human organizations, whether they are military or government or religious, that are in total control, the Manipulating Controllers, also known more officially in the circles of “DEATH”, as the MILLIONTH COUNCIL, is totally in charge of WHO GETS TO KNOW WHAT AND WHEN, AND WHO DOES NOT, and can make an entire society blind and convinced that a blogger is just a crazy nut case and not to ever be believed in part let alone in full. They do not care what is transmitted, as they can always totally affect the outcome of what is able to be received. This past sentence is as powerful as the short compressed description of humanity in general, “THEY LIVED, THEY SUFFERED, THEY DIED”. These two/tow sentences MCH, (millionth-council-hackers), are the ALL in the ALL, as it gets no more descriptively accurate than this, not EVER!!!!!!!!







Yes peeps, always check out my Leprechaun magic photo that keeps endlessly changing in frozen moving time, WOW Mister Patterson, I still am waiting for a book like my life, I'll settle for a character that had lived a tenth of my wild roller coaster ride, old buddy, and yes, my fave fiction writer!!!











Night-night folks, or it will be, when I take an overdose of pills and fall asleep forever in a few minutes, as I have fucking had it, YO. The sub box is on, a perfect time to call the 911 and get these gangster thugs removed once and for all from this fucking horrible place!!!!!!!!!!!! How would Lenny McKinnon's doppelganger say it on the 'L&O' show, 'KMA'!















'MORIANITY-4'



SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR AND SYSTEMS CRASH







RED ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT

RED ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT

RED ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT

RED ALERT RED ALERT RED ALERT





This death mother fucking day started while doing my first blog, and what was originally intended as my ONLY BLOG, but shit gets fucking changed all around, and the cunt lapping WOMO MILI-2-FORCE does by no means need my cock sucking fucking permission to do their VB thing on me, Gong Shows or no Gong Shows, L-4!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



The following fucking shit will be coming down off of the mother fucking YOUTUBE withing the next two weeks, any channels that link, by searching the following word combinations.







5555555555555555555555555555555555555555









Philly57HockeySticks

King Nebnooshoo

paulaking2011





I'LL BE LEAVING FOR CUNT LAPPING FUCKING MEY-HE-CO, AS SOON AS MY MOTHER FUCKING SOCIAL SECURITY COCK SUCKING DISABILITY MONIES COME IN ON MARCH THE DICK LICKING SECOND, AS THE NORMAL THIRD IS PAID ON SATURDAY IF IT SHOULD FALL ON A SUNDAY, AND WITH FEBRUARY BEING THE SAME AS FAR AS THIS HAPPENING AGAIN IN MARCH SINCE IT HAS EXACTLY FOUR WEEKS IN IT, THE FIRST 28 DAYS OF MARCH FALL THE SAME WAY AS DOES FEBRUARY 75 TIMES EVERY CENTURY ON THE NON FUCKING LEAP YEARS.





















Some fucking voice in my head said try playing your systems roulette after this incredible death fucking siege today that began around five with the dirt bag biker, and had just got hit with the most recent gargantuan gangster hood siege in the building, and I was determined to beat it, and not even change roulette wheels when shit totally was not going to fucking work, as there is a super built in monitor within the system that tells when you need to stop, and I threw this great safeguard away, and was determined to beat this fucking shit that Donald Jerk Off Trump and his billionaire dirt bag pals have done to me now since the autumn of 1986 when this all got cunt eating started while I professionally played in the Atlantic City casinos back then; with their applying illegal persecution and parallel event of messing with me and hurting my life, to kill my fucking GOOD LUCK FORCE, as life in general, and luck in general always runs together, a really simple truth, and yet it goes past just about seven and a half fucking ass billion cock sucking peeps day and night 24-7-365.2422!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Yes folks, I LOST 22 AND A HALF UNITS BEFORE THROWING IN THE MOTHER FUCKING CUNT CHEWING TOWELL, YO!!! Based on my gain over the past 20 games, in a percentage, this exceeds an amount that only I need to know, that produces what I call a total SYSTEMS CRASH, not a fucking failure, but indeed a crash. The markets survive crashes, and so do roulette systems; but not total failures. I doubt I'll get weirdly lucky and make it all back in one long day of playing some day down the line. It is possible, but what happened before with my gaining nearly 500 units in one day of playing all day long, and catching one super lucky wheel, has about as much chance of happening to me as being struck by lovely Diana Zudlecronessia Arteemis; AKA Lightning, by Earth Mortals, conscious in their waking life. The month has nearly another half of itself to mother fucking go, yet my MPB is now nearly what the entire month of fucking cunt JANUARY-2013 was, 29%. December and February have not been anywhere near as cunt lapping kind to me as the normally piss poor fucking ass month of January, so go cunt lapping fucking figure, folks, YO, WHAA. Do not ever try and figure life out folks, cursed or not; you will be making the mistake of your fucking life. Paul Evans fucking Pedersen was right all along, and further right that I am a jerk off asshole loser, and a whackadoodle; as I give this advice out, but do not seem to ever take it for my dick licking self, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me do one of either of these three things, and I get assaulted cosmically. ONE: Anything whatsoever pertaining to the worlds of MUSIC. TWO: Trying to figure out the mechanics behind my life, and its powerful Huntington fucking Curse. THREE: Showing publicly, how shit that I have figured out, and that THEY want kept totally closeted, BLOWN OUT INTO THE OPEN, such as showing the detailed ops of how my WOMO ENEMIES, the MILITUFORCE or said the very best, the INTERACTION-FORCE, or the (IF), do their total Valerie Bertrinelli thing, out beyond the 1979 Gong Show, and get me off my game, sidetracked, derailed, off the mark, onto a tangent; and away from proving how these mother fucking dirt bags have endlessly, and fucking ruthlessly, wrecked my entire life, for nearly sixty cunt lapping ass years now, peeps, YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Folks, I'll get back those 22 and a half units, but what I will never recover from, is the horrible loss of energy, that ever since AUGUST CUNT LAPPING FIFTEENTH IN 1986, WHEN THIS EVIL DEMONIC SHIT ALL STARTED IN ONE BIG BANG; that gets robbed from my energetic beingness as HUMAN BEING MARK WAYNE MOHR. This will never be able to be restored to me, it is lost forever, in the life of the person that I now am dreaming myself to be. It would not matter if Donald Trump, and the Queen of England, and William Gates all three, came over to me tomorrow fucking morning; and signed over every penny to their name. This would not, nor can it ever, replace this lost energy. This is a coveted top secret known to the FUCKING GAMING INDUSTRY, and I feel that I should have a right to sue the entire fucking miserable bunch of them for 99 billion fucking US Dollars, even though it would only be a band-aid, when 444 tourniquets are what would really be needed, Booby's of Mullica Mobile Manor and plagues, MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know, these prick billionaire gaming bastards and EW giants, can deny all they want, what they have done to me, and they'll get away with it all in their human lives; but there will be a day when they fucking turn into stinky maggots physically, and only wish that the rest of their ugly self could also just rot away as stinking maggots, only believe me well mother fuckers; this is not possible, and YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU HAVE FUCKING DONE TO THIS PATHETIC POOR FRAIL LITTLE INNOCENT GOD DAM SOUL, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





YOU'LL ALL BURN IN HELL FOREVER FOR THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!



555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555



Now, I am asking GAWKY GAUKAUK why this attack from 5-7 give or take, happened to me today, and get a PCN. Hang on good peeps, and loyal Morians, TANKS, BOOMMMMMM!



Well this one is not resistible, Mister RHM of New York freaking City, so sahwee, old pal of yesteryear; and go deal with this later on, with Tara Windgone and Mister Y. Strauss.



W------------O------------W.



DUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-U think this is gonna' B A doozie whopper, folks, if so, guess what, U-R-2-RIGHT, YO!





Hay freaking Gawky, why did this death siege strike me between about 5-7 PM-EST today, YO, YYYYYYYYYYYY?



HAY MOUNTAINPEN, because PCN-286!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



HERE ARE THE MATCHBOOK ITEMS FOR PCN-286, FOLKS!



SHE WANTS TO OWN THE LAND----MICROSOFT CORPORATION----MM----JOHN KENNEDY----MAY ONE NINETEEN EIGHTY-------------------------------------------------

































Peeps, no matter who does what to me, this entire 'IF', they cannot take away from me three things, MY REALITY, MY SANITY, and MY GAWNUM EQUATIONS. To me, they are more important for my fucking cunt survival, than anything the great Albert Einstein ever could have worked out. The Gawnum can indeed tell me things, such as all about my 2008 downtime, and all about energy being equal to mass times light velocity squared, but that is only the beginning. All the other formula can do is sit there all nice and pretty, and allow America to win World War Two, and stuff like that, but it never will be able to tell me squat about the downtime in Morianity; and so the real joke is, that if you flip this all upside down, like Professor Pepperwinkle and his carnival ride machine, on the original 1957 Superman Show; GAGA can indeed reveal why that all went down, and not to excite the great Rockdroid too fucking much here folks, but really, is this, or is this not, William Shakespeare; the eternal question? Now we really do need to do a TODAYS REVENGE SECRET or a 'TRS' from the older days of my blogs in OH-MAROLA-7, and playing RATS, TATS, and J.S. FOOTBALL. No matter what I could ever say or tell, it would have one huge problem. I know it, 'THEY' know it, and I know they know it, and are laughing louder than a stair tag chase viewing, MC. Still, yes, authentication, and anything and everything is said up here on the internet, and I don't need my wonderful automobile insurance company to tell me that. I know that! But I do have some proof beyond anything ever yet shown or posted or told, that at least half of what has been printed and told and sworn by me as truth in full; and it is well hidden, buried in the ground here in Florida, just as it was well hidden before, and even buried on two occasions back in fucking Jersey, before I left there on eleven December of OH-MAROLA-9. It would end life as we know it on this Earth, or better said really, it would end death as we know it on this Earth. You all know I speak about a situation from the great middle nineties and Gerard Style's Colinwood of Haddonwood, Mister Payment Due Date Paul Stoddard. Yes sir Mister Steelie Dan, add the two payment-due dates up as far as their numbers, forget that they are in two different months, leaving Christmas Day right smack dab in the middle of it all, and without my singing Christmas Angel of time traveling Cooley Hall of the Coolio gang of Kalio-4nya. Only die hard ''Dark Shadows'' fans will have a small clue what is being said here, besides the Cove Agencies. Now let me tell you all that more is going on here than magic tricksters, chains, old fake treasure chests, adolescent versions of Morianity called the Book of Beach or (BOB), wild gorgeous perfectly crossed over chemtrails that can be labeled as a TRINITRAIL, Type-3-exploratron goddesses, and yes, flies dropping out of the skies as well, only flies who have been altered. If I put a simple laboratory together, I could stop anyone from ever getting a day older, and I can totally prove this. It is against the law just to say this, did you know that? If you doubt me, talk to the famous infomercial dude, Mister Kevin Trudeau. Now, read on, YO!



MORIANITY-4



MY NABES ARE ACTING LIKE THE THUGS THAT THEY ARE, DEBBIE MAROTTO:









JUST PAST SEVEN MONDAY EVENING ON 02/18/2013



I WILL FIND YOU AT SOME TWIN BUILDING TOMORROW, AND WE WILL TALK.



IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME AND I AM MURDERED, MY HEIRS CAN HOLD THE PUBLIC HOUSING AUTHORITY RESPONCIBLE, AS THESE THUG NABES HAVE KILLED ME. THEY ARE OVER THERE SLAMMING AS LOUD AS THEY CAN, AND SHOUTING AS LOUD AS THEY CAN, TO THE POINT WHERE I AM ABOUT TO CALL 911.



I KNEW I WOULD NOT GET THROUGH A FUCKING HOLIDAY WEEKEND WITHOUT MAJOR ATTACK EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY.



I AM BACK ON A ROLL FOR ALMOST EVERY CUNT LAPPING FUCKING DAY BEING SUPER BOTBAR AGAIN, SO WATCH THE STORMS RAVAGE THE PLANET, AND MAYBE MORE, YO!



MORIANITY-4



HOW TRUE WHAT I HAVE COME TO KNOW, ALL REALLY IS:



4:44 PM-EST, MONDAY AFTERNOON, 02/18/2013



PRESIDENTS DAY HOLLIDAY





This will now attempt to do what both I want to do with MORIANITY, as well as what the real-true 'owner' of it and everything else for that matter, wants done with it.





Folks, it is 66 degrees Fahrenheit here at Fort Pierce, Florida, and it is part of the three day holiday of Presidents Day. I have only a few dollars left to my name until a week from Saturday, and just enough to get my meds that do not cost me anything besides the gasoline to get to the new branch of the pharmacy that I go to now, ending one nightmare in my life, and purchase a few cheap dinners at the local Deals Store nearby the same location as the Walgreen's. The nabes have been quiet and feeling very guilty I AM quite sure, as I am certain that they did the vandalism to my car tire back last week. I cannot come out and accuse, but remember how when we were kids and we did something we knew we'd catch hell for when a parent came home from work, and so we acted extra good and very quiet, as long as we could; so as to procrastinate the eventual catastrophe of punishment for our deed? Well I remember it, and very well, as I was not brought up in a barn, and did have a mother who yes, she wasn't perfect, but she dam well tried. She worked very hard and did the best she could to provide for us as well as to raise a gentlemen son, who respects the rights of others, and knows how to treat a lady. This is what I have been told, and is not me smacking myself on the back. I do not operate like that. I may tell things, but I never brag intentionally. This too, was taught to me as a youth, by a God fearing Christian mother. She made mistakes, she did some wild and crazy things, and so who the hell frikkin hasn't, YO? Now it's time to expand one of many topics that I said that M-4 would be getting a lot more specific on as time goes along, so here goes, good folks.





First off, one subject will lead right into another one, so I will start off with what woke me up this early afternoon, and that being, a very unpleasant dreaming interaction in the hyperspace. I was in the same one where I became a paramedic, and worked for Atlanticare; and where a huge highway connected Vineland, New Jersey, with Washington, DOC-13-600 directly, and then turned into the same road that goes all the way through the town of Hammonton, New Jersey, and following it south goes straight to the Cifaloglio Garage, and north, becoming the famous Route 206, going up near the New Jersey State Capitol and then on beyond that further into the north. But in this experience, I was further back in time than where I was in that interaction spoken of in a 2006 or 2007 blog somewhere, where VP Dick Cheney, under the GW Bush Administration, had taken ill, and I was one of the paramedics on a huge special ambulance, riding down the highway that led eventually into this huge city, that is not here in this parallel universe where I am awake and typing this. Gear shift, clutch pedal, that enemy motorcycle just gunned his bike at me at five on the nose this holiday afternoon, and just a minute before that, the nabes who had been quiet all day, were out in the hallway, and a little bit vociferously demodulated, or not using 'inside voices', may be a better way of saying it for those not college degreed. Gear shift, clutch pedal, and back to the story now. Yes, my bloody shoe is wearing out a lot of gear clutch pedals on these seven plus years of blogs, many times I do forget the clutch and shift grind into what may sound like nonsense, but I cannot help it if I am blogging a story, and then suddenly am struck by a WOMO-MILITUFORCE ATTACK. Shift-shift-shit, YO. So back to the ambulance story, we took him to a hospital that existed where the big Hammonton, New Jersey Cemetery is over here in this reality, but over there, it was a gigantic part of the Atlanticare Hospital System headquartered in Atlantic City, New Jersey. He was treated, and shortly released, and was doing just fine and all was well; but I remember a way more powerful group of images than just my VP being ill, and transporting him to a hospital. I remember this huge Vineland City being very similar to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania over here, in its appearance, with very tall buildings, and a precise duplication of the large building around Twelfth and Market Streets here in Philly, called the Philadelphia Savings Fund Society, or what David Roth, my late old friend used to jokingly refer to as the ''Phillies Stink For Sure'' Building, AKA the PSFS Building near the City Hall, right old pal, Mayor Nutter? I remember the huge highway, and learned that it connected Vineland with Washington, DC, and also that Vineland was only five miles north along that smaller highway, of the Cifaloglio Garage. The dude with his pals over here who rap under the name of ''DEEZY SLIM'', and who produced three of my videos that are on the paulaking2011 channel of the Youtube, 'MI Apology Song', 'Don't Hide Nina', and 'Wanna' Spend My time', do not show up most of the time if you type in King Nebnooshoo into the Youtube search-box, or ever paulaking2011, and you need to type in instead, Philly57hockeysticks. Google and Microsoft have made things so impossible for me, that I have taken down my Facebook account a month ago and also, all this junk on the Youtube will be coming down very soon as well; but my point here is, this rapper here, lives a totally different life over in this parallel universe; Mister Darius Evans; and he is my boss at Cifaloglio, until I get my medical license to be a paramedic over there, and leave Cifaloglio, and ride in that ambulance for the Atlantic County, and am employed by the Atlanticare Health System. This is where before I become a paramedic, he lifts me right off my feet one night at the garage or outside of it along the row where front end trucks all park along a long row, and he said to me as I'll never forget it, “You never liked me”. This was not true, but over there, he was very mean, and not nice to me, as he was over here when I knew him as my boss over at the Fort Pierce, Florida Harvest Food Outreach Center from late 2010 through the ending of 2011 or just into 2012 somewhere. Right after he left, was when the WOMO enemies made me very ill, and those horrible nabes across the hall called me the ''record singer'' and were doing all they could right outside my door to be loud and obnoxious and crude and uncouth, and it all is on the blogs from the ending part of the last Blogger dot com blogs at the old http link, http://www.drunkenhive.blogspot.com/ and this leads back into really major stuff where recently I have cut and pasted things into this newer blog, from the items in the one before that, that I was suddenly and quite mysteriously hacked out of being able to log onto anymore. But in the interaction of last night, I was in a place before the Cifaloglio place, as from here it went to Cifaloglio and then when my paramedics license was obtained, I was able to escape that life of misery over in that other parallel universe. But back then, around 2002, instead of being with Assets Protection in Pendell, Pennsylvania, where they had me at the Tulleytown Landfill, and also at the Griffin Pipe in Florence, New Jersey; here I was with a place called Ambler Trannyworks; only it was not in Ambler, Pennsylvania, but it was in good old, you guessed it, loyal Morians; Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Doors, doors, doors, gear shift, clutch, clutch. Yes, shit is starting up, and I will post this up and put on my headphones, and watch the news, and then a movie or 'whatever', Congressman old buddy from 1975, stab, stab. The entire world wants to hate me and distance themselves from me, well, fine, but let me tell you all 'sumpin', YO! If by the remotest freaking chance, the old Caterpillar and Butterfly Esolph Fable ever miraculously came true in my life, don't a one of you ever so much as think about coming back, and trying to be friends with me, because I'll blow you off of me at velocitronic mother fucking speed, and know THAT, sir Rockdroid Roddenberry Chappel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Two can play at this MEAN-GAME, folks, so WHAAAAAAAAAA, and go do things that are too revolting to even blog on Mountainpen's most raunchy and racy days of vulgarity, BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.





To wrap up, and we will come back to this; my interaction last night was at the parallel universe job called Ambler Trannyworks, in Carlisle, PAUSAESMWG. It is only ten blocks away from the laboratory and the building, where in 2010, I entered in another interaction and was followed in by a strange dude that I know I know here from somewhere, and his kids, but cannot place them for shit on seeded freaking rye bread. I was on the job and a coworker and I were approached by the big boss, and the boss of our boss, and he pulled us to an area where he then went inside of a cage area, and it was a lady coworker, and I thought that he was giving us a raise and more hours, as we both were working a 20 hour job with the hopes of additional hours coming our way shortly. Suddenly I realized that she was being given ten more hours to a 30-hour position, and a dollar an hour raise, and at first I thought both of us were, and then he told me, 'Now you, you will be cut down to eleven hours starting next week, and will be be paid only $8.70', a demotion from the $9.90 that I had been making. He laughed at me when I asked why this was happening, and told me, 'If you don't know, then I sure as hell ain't telling ya' bud'. I remember thinking that my disability had been revoked and I did not know how I was going to live on this crappy new wage and few hours of weekly work. This was a very mean and nasty man, as why would he bring this female coworker and myself both together to his cage, just to make me hear how she was going to go up, and I was going to get slammed down. In this parallel reality, I was not on disability for a full psychotic break and incurable paranoid delusions and schizophrenia, as they have me over here in this parallel universe; but for a fall I took years ago, where after I fell down, a huge object had fallen onto me, crushing my back. But every year they said my back was improving, and a doctor had recently given me a clean bill of health to return back to full time employment. See how these universes all intertwine folks. Over here, where I'm typing this blog right now, I also was kicked off my disability, and had to get reinstated back on to it, at this very same point in time, even though the circumstances were not identical. This is only surface scratching a topic we will be getting really heavily into, as the winter moves onward, and as spring time approaches. It's extremely urgent that you know the truth about the VOID, the ASTRAL PLANE, the HYPERSPACE, and the forces that all interact, intertwine, and interconnect into major complex truths, that up until recently, I had not figured out a way to make it simple enough to read and comprehend. That has all changed now as a result of a lot of new experiences and life over the past year or so. I'll be getting seriously into why we live our lives in our conscious waking connections to it, why we explore exact alternate realities in hyperspace with our subconscious dreaming activities, and how things on the Astral Plane, the Mental Plane or sixth dimension, as well as the Lawtronic Plane or the system's circuitry of a sort; all work together in this maze of many rooms, where corners of floors can indeed be ripped apart, yet leaving the majority of the rooms fully in tact. If you remember, this is called playing with reality-chunks, without disrupting or disturbing the bigger picture of any reality; or better stated perhaps, being able to covertly manipulate and maneuver in a game of the gods, based on the level of cosmic chess that we have learned to be playing on. Good folks, this is only the beginning, and yet you should be getting a chill up your asshole right about now, unless I am being read by a bunch of houseplants. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Mister R.H. MACY, and W--------O--------W as well, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







5555555555555555555555































































MORIANITY-4





MANY CHAPTER NAMES ARE FITTING, SO I WILL CHOOSE

GOOSE EGGS THIS TIME:









FEBRUARY EIGHTEENTH, MONDAY MORNING AND PRESIDENTS DAY HOLIDAY, IN TWENTY-THIRTEEN AD, AND IT IS 38 MINUTES PAST ONE IN THE MORNING IN STM:















Well if the great All Mighty Microsoft Corporation, SAR ASSIST ME, can do so many updates, well then I suppose I

can too, and need to, lads, lassies, lappers, and Lab Dogs.







The two days of super hell, quieted down on Sunday, the seventeenth, yesterday; PTL, PR; and all old prior bosses, direct or indirect, aha-aha-aha-aha Mike McNulty, old pal from 1971 and morbid accusations made, TEE-HEE-HEE; and I played the systems-roulette and here is some information. Friday's horrors and nightmares still allowed me to tunnel out a small profit of 3 units, again Saturday another 3 and a half units, and yesterday, Sunday, yet another 3 units, totaling 9.5 units over these three days. The days before the nightmare started, I played every other day and made 5 and a half over three games, so this weird time, I was able to get more profit out of the time era of terror and hell than during a quieter time before, and one of my longest periods of non-botbar, in a very long time, more than a solid week, but that is all long retired history now, as I am only on a non-bot times one now. I will discuss this exact formula for applying against roulette, just not right at this time.







I did question the great kitty cat GAGA about the flat tire incident, and got the PCN-936. I will not type in a lot of match-book items for this PCN. I will just give a few that make me scratch my head a little more than others.



HOLLYWOOD----JUNE NINETEEN EIGHTY----BUTTERFLY----UNOCAL OIL----OCEAN CITY NEW JERSEY----



















I went downstairs to talk to Harry Coffee about the vandalism incident, and no one is there at the desk, so I got my mail, threw out my trash, and came right back to my apartment. It is so very nice tonight, cool, my channel 12 Palm Beach television app on the computer is showing an icon at bottom screen, of 40 degrees, amazing, to me it feels just under 60, but that is just my hot blood, and gash, after five generations pop, what gives? Splain that one Ricky Ricardez? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!







I will quickly tell the general viewer audience what I was going to tell Harry Coffee. It seems that after our talk that night and my blogging about the kids taking us over via these PC machines, somebody somewhere DID NOT LIKE WHAT I SAID, and let the air out of my rear driver side tire. I know it was let out because it is fine with just being refilled with new air by my AAA tow-truck driver, and it was fine just earlier on the day before my talk with Harry Coffee. So this lets out the possibility of a small or slow leak, or that it was not done intentionally, and to cause me a major headache and problem, which it did; and THEY won, and accomplished their rotten evil demonic goal and mission. Since these folks got so touchy, whoever they are; Fort Pierce Police, and SL County Sheriff Ken Mascara sir; let me, as Lenny Briscoe on the 'L&O' television show, would put it so perfectly; ''really piss them off''. Part of the story that was not told/blogged, after coming back into my apartment, was that he was the host of a website chat board, and observed youngsters treating adults with great disrespect, and down right rude and even vulgar verbal treatment; saying things, and without my flowering up the bad language, along the lines of; if you cannot work the internet, or do such and such; then you don't belong here. Also things like, old farts don't belong in our territory, we started it and now you want to come in and take over. This of course is utter nonsense, and we only want our rightful place in a system that forces us to either get hip, or die practically. We did not all want or ask for this. They are correct on that much of it. But to tell us that we cannot buy or sell and literally fulfill a scriptural prophecy of thousands of freaking years ago; WOW, Sally and Billy, now THAT'S SAYIN' SOMETHING, BRO! Any-ha, Mister Coffee told them to stop behaving like that, and when people need some help, treating them so badly is wicked and wrong. Those that would not stop doing it, and he told me it was a majority of the extra young crowd; were evicted from usage of the site with high-tech sanctioning. This made me temporarily feel great, as I beam with delight when justice is done. Hay, you don't have to help, meanies, but we are not your enemies, and you have no right to be so offensive and nasty, when we are only trying to learn, as we must, just to live in this world. Also, dream on kiddies, you did not invent this thing. I know many secrets, and this may or may not be amongst the major ones, but get a life my friends, as there is more to life than insulting old people, and unless you plan on dying while young, guess what pals; you will also become old, and I hope that some day, you'll enjoy the way your grandchildren out in the future treat you; with some unfathomable new thing, when you are too old to make it work the way they can. I did not invent the truth, and part of the truth is ''what goes around comes back around. Life is a wheel, and ''that is the truth'', as my late Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason, loved to say so often in the late nineteen sixties. For the maybe half or so of the nice younger crowd who won't help, since this would evict them from the youth-click; but at least don't act as though we are their enemy, when we have lives, and have no time to even be concerned with them let alone spend time trying to be their enemy; but yes, for those that are at least not the real meanies of the bunch; then my harsh words are not intended for you. Still, taking this entire thing a bit further, involving my vehicle vandalism, I dared to talk about the ''NICK CLUB'', if you may recall, and if you do not, it is right there at both WORDPRESS as well as BLOGGER, where I post up my blogs, and have for seven years. Those of any age, any belief system, any color from polka dot to stripes, any national origin, religious faith, etcetera and etcetera; have the right to be free, and try to find some happiness in this nightmare rotten life. Concentrically, NO ONE has the right to mess with peeps, and make them miserable, hack into their lives, their computers, make them miserable secretly and covertly; and whatever. We all bleed red, we all have feelings, and I personally am not one bit shy to tell this world that if I was the ruler or owner, anyone who did not respect the rights of others, would be imprisoned a place so horrible that they could not last more than a few years in it alive. You do not have the right to hurt people just because you enjoy doing it, and if you persist in that, you should be strung up, and slowly and agonizingly hung. We're all just struggling along and trying to find our way in this miserable reality. It is far from a perfect world, so why make it worse?



MORIANITY-4



TWO DAYS OF DEATHSIEGE AND BOTBAR NIGHTMARE HELL


IT IS 3:23 PM-EST, 02/16/2013, AND NOT ROOM NUMBER, AT THE ATLANTIC CITY, FORMERLY TRINITY HOTEL, ON 10-SC, NON CALL LONG DISTANCE OR SARAH MISERABLE CALL-IO AVENUE. THIS IS A FUCKING SUPER BAD ENEMY STRIKE SATURDAY, ALL DAY, ALL MORNING AND ALL DAY, HUGE HORRIBLE MONSTER ASS FUCKING CUNT CHEMTRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE SKIES OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY OF FLORIDA, USA-ES-MWG, AND THE MILITUFORCE OTAMM-SCUM, AKA THE IF, OR 'INTERACTION-FORCE', IS REALLY DOING ITS FUCKING VALERIE BERTRINELLI THING, OVER THE PAST TWO DAYS, WITH PROPERTY DAMAGE, AND NOW HEAVY SKY PERSECUTION AND PUMMELING, AND OTHER SHIT ALL AROUND ME; THAT WHEN IT IS HAPPENING, I KNOW IT IS ALL TOTALLY PART OF THEIR FUCKING ASS WICKED DEMONIC SATANIC EVIL ROTTEN DEATH SIEGE AGAINST ME. WHERE ARE YOU SHERIFF KEN MASCARA, AND FLORIDA STATE POLICE, AND LOCAL POLICE IN FORT PIERCE, YO? THIS IS REAL BAD, AND IF I AM FOUND DEAD IN HERE, I HAVE BEEN MOTHER FUCKING MURDERED BY ALL THE ENEMIES OF THE MC-IF CREW AND COMPANY, AND STAR FAMILY!!!!!!!! THIS IS NO JOKE, PEOPLE, SO LAUGH ALL YOU WANT, AND GIVE ME A LITTLE HEAD START UP THOSE WICKED HORRIBLE STAIRS, YO, MO, WOMO; WO!!!!







DEAR NON-BEAVER-CLEAVER QUICK DIARY:



I DID NOT GET UP AND HAVE A NICE NORMAL ORDINARY DAY, NOT TODAY, NOT YESTERDAY; FOR THAT MATTER, NOT FOR THE PAST FUCKING 582 DECIANNUMS, AKA 58.2 YEARS OF MY WAKING SO-CALLED ''HUMAN LIFE'' AS MARK WAYNE FUCKING DISASTER HUNTINGTON CURSED MOHR!



MIKE GOT OVER HERE AROUND NOON, AND I THEN CALLED MY TRIPLE-A AUTO CLUB. THEY GOT HERE 90 MINUTES LATER, AND FILLED UP MY TIRE, AND NOTHING IS WRONG WITH IT, FORT PIERCE POLICE. SOME FUCKING JERK OFF LET ALL THE FUCKING AIR OUT OF IT. IT IS EASY. YOU COME AROUND AT 3 AM, AND SNEAK INTO THE PARKING LOT, COVER YOURSELF WITH A BLANKET, TAKE A LITTLE ITEM WITH A TINY PIN PRICK END SIDE TO IT, STICK IT INTO A TIRE VALVESTEM, AND PSHHHH; I GET A FUCKING FLAT TIRE, SHERIFF MASCARA; DON'T YOU CARE, SIR? DOESN'T ANYONE CARE THAT THESE MONSTER BOTTOM FEEDING PIGS AND SWINE, ARE VIOLATING MY LIFE, BREAKING THE LAW, & DESTROYING MY CIVIL LIBERTIES? THEY ALL READY WON'T LET ME EVER DO ANYTHING WITH MY MUSIC, AND I KNOW I CAN WRITE GOOD SHIT. LOTS OF FUCKING JERK OFFS ARE JUST PLAIN JEALOUS AND HAVE BEEN NOW FOR FORTY FUCKING YEARS. I KNOW IT, DAVE ROTH KNEW IT, AND HOPEFULLY; SHERIFF MASCARA OF SAINT LUCIE COUNTY, SIR; YOU NOW KNOW THIS. IF YOU WERE TO GO UP TO THE 'YOUTUBE', AND TYPE INTO THE SEARCH BOX, ''paulaking2011'', YOU WOULD HEAR A LOT OF SHIT THAT IS GOOD. LOTS OF IT IS JUST ME CLOWNING AROUND, BUT YOU KNOW THAT I CAN INDEED WRITE GOOD MUSIC; AND EVEN MY FUCKING KID KNOWS IT, WHETHER SHE'LL ADMIT IT OR NOT DIRECTLY; BUT IN 1997; SHE ADMITTED IT THROUGH THE BACK DOOR, AS TONY FUCKING BONJOVI HEARD THE SIMILARITY INSTANTLY, AT HIS AVALON RECORDING STUDIO, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!



YOU ALL NEED TO GO UP TO GOOGLE SEARCH, AND YOUTUBE, AND TYPE IN ''CHEMTRAILS'', AND ALSO MY SONG, ON YOUTUBE CALLED, ''CHEMTRAILS OF 1987'', YO. ALSO, IF YOU HAVE A VIDEO CAMERA; COME OVER RIGHT NOW. IT IS 3:38 PM-EST, SO COME TO MY TOWN, HERE AT FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, AND FILM AWAY; AS THESE MONSTER ASS TRAILS ARE ALL OVER THE PLACE, AND THEY CAME RIGHT OVER ME, AND PERSECUTED ME, PERSONALLY; AND YOU WILL NOT FIND ONE OTHER CHEMTRAIL VIDEO OR WEB FUCKING SITE, WHERE ANYONE CAN CLAIM THAT 'THEY' FOLLOW AND STALK THEM; AND MAKE IT SUPER PERSONAL, AS THEY HAVE BEEN DOING TO, AND WITH ME, SINCE 1987; AT THE AMERICAN HONDA PLANT ON GAITHER ROAD, IN MOUNT LAUREL, NEW JERSEY, IN LATE DECEMBER OF 1987, AND INTO THE FIRST TWO MONTHS OF 1988, PEEPS, YO!!!!!!!!!!



THERE WILL BE INCREDIBLE STORMS, EARTHQUAKES, AND DISASTERS, AND AIR CRASHES; ALL OVER THE WORLD FOR WHAT IS FUCKING BEING DONE TO ME; SO WATCH THE FUCK OUT; YOU EVIL MILI-2-FORCE SCUM SUCKING SNAKE CUM CHEWERS!!!!!!!!!!! You all will die horrible inconceivable unfathomable monster ass deaths, sooner or later, so be warned, you cunt lappers; and all within the restrictions of the legal system, as no one has of yet even attempted to fucking legislate my using my power and knowledge, on my wicked evil rotten filthy twisted sicko enemies from HELL!!!



MMMMMMMMMMAGNESONICCCCCCCCCCCCC:



OPEN COMMAND G-7.

ALL GENERAL AND CODED GENERAL ORDERS, USING BOTH AD & ZD TECHNOLOGIES, I AM MAXING OUT ALL OF YOUR PULL POWER GAIN CONTROLS, AND ALL CONTROLS AGAINST THAT GAIN, 11.8 IPNS AND 11.5 IPNS RESPECTIVELY. USE ALL ORDERS AND TECHS, USE A PHASED A/B TONE PUNISHMENT SYSTEM, AS FOLLOWS, WITH A TOTALLY CRUSHED AND SINGED AND FULLY DESTROYED IMAGE-OBJECT (I-O) ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK, SWITCHING YOUR DESIRE KEY NOW, FROM THE NN-J POSITION, TO THE OPERATIONAL POSITION-I. COMPUTER, ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A/B TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, HEAR THE A/B TONES NOW, INSIDE MY MIND AS THE LONG-EEE SOUND.



EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-A-TONE.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-B-TONE. G-901, G-1133, G-917, G-189, CG-39, CG2, CG5555, UNDER G-719, CG-18, AND STOP.



'MORIANITY-4'



IF I SUFFER ANOTHER NERVOUS BREAKDOWN, I WILL SUE THE PHA IN A COURT OF LAW.

(THE MAGICAL MOVE IN HYPERSPACE OF 2008)

Almost every single day, these dirt bag nabes across the hall play games with me by turning on that sub box for a few seconds, and then it goes off. Also, there is a very mysterious white vehicle, with all blacked out windows, outside of my window, and down in the parking lot, across Avenue B. The skies and other stuff is quiet so far, but that can always change on a dime. I know when persecution is around me before actual events begin, from so many years of being inside of this nightmare hellish experience. You either become ultra hyper sensitive, or you become dead. It was pretty dead around here yesterday, after I exposed the game and the bullshit about this computer fucking shit, how these enemies are one of the security personnel, how Debbie the Office Manager seems to be playing this game with me, along with all of the rest; and I am going to see Doctor Jack about suing the PHA, for harassing an already mentally disturbed person; for fifty million dollars. My appointment with him will be next week, up at the Orange Avenue and Twenty-Fifth Street location. Something mother fucking tells me that I'll be leaving here for Mexico within 60 days or less, and not looking back ever, ever, ever, ever; unless this law suit commences, and I can get what is being done to me, one cannon shot after another; stopped, and compensation made to me, for all of this unspeakable crime over a long period of time. If the PHA wants to sue others, that they may have gotten involved with as a direct result, then that's on them, BRAH.



As for right now, here are the great six chapters of 2008, speaking of what started a lot of this present hell, and making it evolve into something this monstrously horrendous, and wicked. The off period in-between, speaks for itself. I give the three chapters of February, and then the three chapters of May. So what really was going on in March and April, and all throughout this strange down time? Where's my seventeen thousand dollars, little Sally Starr? Where is Colony Quna, Copyrighted barriers of permission in 1994? Where did Paula come from, and where did she go back to, in 1996; Sam the Maintenance Man of the Highview Apartments of WILL-I AM-ST-OP-RAH-OWN, New Jersey, and was your son the Policeman, just ''Another-Son-Of-Sam''? The questions as well as the possibilities to all of this mother fucking monster ass hellishness, and dogshit; are just what Elizabeth Montgomery said that they are, to her husband Darren; back in the late sixties or early seventies somewhere; ''ENDLESS''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe the downtime between February and May of 2008 was spent on Colony Quna, right Donna Summer, old friend? What a hero old shoelaces Bruce was, that day on Pacific Avenue, in Atlantic City, in 1980. Oh well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, girl! How's that go, Copyright Office of the early eighties? In any event, read on please.





MORIANITY-4



WORST COCK SUCKING BOTBAR DAY OF TWENTY ASS FRIKKIN THIRTEEN





Mikey came over, and it was a total mother fucking cunt chewing DISASTER. Tomorrow, I'll call my fucking Triple-A Auto Club; as that is all I can do. The Fix-a-flat shit did not work. It always was easy so many times before, you just shake the bottle and put the nozzle into the tire stem and screw clockwise until tight, only they sold me a defective can, or else the tire has been totally fucked up, I don't know which, but I do know that it was messed with, and I am making a mother fucking police report tomorrow on the incident as fucking well. Every jerk off and their Aunt Sibily were outside, many others were repairing their broken down vehicles, which is against lease rules, all I tried to do was quickly get a glue-air solution into a tire so I then could drive it to a local station, pay a dollar and buy what used to be free air and fill my tire back to its normal capacity of about 35 or so pounds PSI. This place flash-mobbed up on me, planes swooped all around, it was beyond a fucking nightmare. Trashy scum were all over me like rats in a mountain of fucking pig shit. There is a lady who takes advantage of the poor bastard, and she called demanding more money, she makes me sick. Her name should be Harbor, but it isn't, it is Pearl. Mikey does not know how to say know to this pile of solid waste material. I hate peeps who take advantage of the frail and the innocent, they should be lined up and shot, very slowly, over and over in the arms and legs, and just bleed the fuck out and croak. Giant sluts are on a roll, many trashy peeps are crawling out of the mother fucking cunt woodwork, the entire thing that I thought would go relatively smoothly, was a total fucking fiasco catastrophe nightmare disaster times ten to the tenth fucking power. I wasted seven and a half dollars on a fucked up can of fix-a-flat garbage, and I still have a fucking cunt pancake flat ass god dam mother fucking tire! Triple-A will put air in it tomorrow, or else; and if it needs more than that, I still have half of the can left, if it still works and the Triple-A guy knows how to work it, as Mikey and I were out in that parking lot looking like a couple of mother fucking jack ass cock sucking total fools. I know this was done to me, and I know who loves TO FUCK WITH TIRES AND RIMS AND MESS WITH CARS AND RUBBERS. Naturally, he himself did not do it, but he made a NICK CLUB phone call to one of his millions of little bopper teeny fans, and someone local in Fort Pierce, came around late at night and stuck a fingernail or a tiny device, right onto the valve stem where if you push it, air releases out of the tire. I knew that I wasn't having all these god dam mother fucking nightmares for no reason. Now despite all of this fucking shit, my systems roulette was able to win three units profit on this beyond twisted diseased dirt bag horrendous and monster ass fucking day. I would have won two more, but lots of green house-vig numbers struck me, and dug into the take. Still, to win three units on a day this horrible, has odds of astronomical possibility to work in my favor. Despite this hell, I plan to watch the final MENTALIST on TV as soon as I post this blog up, and enjoy some grub, and a bowl of fucking Publix Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream, as I purchased eight of them a few days back on a BOGO SALE, buying 8 for the price of 4, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Now if this tire cannot be fixed without spending much more than the seven and a half that I spent so far, I am going to be really fucking hurting. I may have to ask my State Farm Insurance, to let me do that same thing that I did a while back, just one more time; and explain that my final car payment, the 72nd one, will be made on the fourth, and then no more car payment. We'll see what mother fucking manifests itself into my reality when tomorrow swings around in the STM illusion, folks, YO! The future is technically no more than the present with a longer past. Don't try to really wrap your heads around that, or you'll fuck yourselves all up, and be a fuck head like me; who knows, you might even grow a Huntington Curse out of nowhere, with Leprechaun maps that change magically on my blogs every few hours. WOW! You want to know what pisses me fucking off more than this horrendous and despicable shit ass day could ever do? SSJKK in a trance, told me that I may not blog the details of our trance discussion, but she told me that she is onto the fact that I am attempting to use her to promote Morianity. I told her that this was no huge secret, as she used me to promote Christianity. Also, she still owes me a dollar for that dam cassette tape in 1986. She said that I was blocking it out on a conscious level, but I think I knew consciously all along that once I began tying pieces of the island all together back in time, with the present mid twenty-ohs and the beginning of blogging Morianity; that I fully intended to show the world that she comes here over and over again.

GOOD OLD FLORIDA, WOW AM I HAVING FUN HERE FOR THE PAST 38 MONTHS NOW!!!

Alerts Map
Note: The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the alert and the map processing.
Advisory Colors Key
Winter Storm Watch
Flood Warning
Non-Precipitation Advisory
Flood Statement



The image may not, but I will reflect and tell a lot. Every time the Dow Jones stock market is way down, as it was most of the day, they normally use PROPERTY DAMAGE against me, to get it to rebound back up again, and anyone who has been following these blogs for anywhere near the entire 7 years of their existence, called, MORIANITY, knows that this is the total truth. Sure enough, it went up by five points by the closing bell at 4 of the clock, on this SUPER FUCKING BOTBAR DAY for me. They CHEATED, and manipulated the price up by destroying one of my rear automobile fucking tires. Real big heroes, man, must feel about twelve foot four inches tall, picking on a defenseless little special edder all these years, BIG ASS FUCKING HEROES, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO.



Well, we all have heard about changing with the weather, so come up and visit this blog from time to time, and watch the great leprechauns do their magic, and change this map, via internet electronic magic, AKA 21st century technology, AHA AHA AHA MISTER MIKE MCNULTY!!!!!OH WOW RH.











Well ladies and gentlemen, I will have some ice cream and watch “THE MENTALIST” on TV until I call Mikey tonight, as he is expecting my phone call tonight any-ha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







Watch out folks, this world just might blow up before all that long, if this shit does not fucking stop!









MORIANITY-4



DEAR FORT PIERCE POLICE AUTHORITIES:



SOMEBODY FLATTENED MY TIRE. I will know more when my pal from the island, Mikey, gets here tomorrow to help get me to where I'll need to go to see what is wrong, hopefully a cheap rubber plug will repair the problem. Otherwise, I am being fucked with again, as they keep taking my little money away, over and over. This has been cunt lapping mother fucking happening to me since forever.



MAGNESONIC, SCAN WHOEVER DAMAGED MY PROPERTY. THEY WILL BE TOTALLY OBLITERATED UNDER PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM. CREATE AN I-O AND CRUSH AND SINGE IT INTO RUINATION AND PLACE IT ON YOUR TRANSPOWER BLOCK. USE BOTH AD AND ZD TECHNOLOGIES. MAX OUT ALL YOUR PULL POWER GAIN TO 11.8 IPNS AND YOUR CONTROLS AGAINST THE GAIN AT MAXIMUM 11.5 IPNS. USE ALL GENERAL AND SPECIAL ORDERS. G-7 OPEN COMMAND, YOU WILL HEAR THE DOUBLE TONES INSIDE MY MIND MAKING THE SOUND OF STRAIGHT LETTER 'E'. I NOW AM SWITCHING YOUR DESIRE KEY FROM THE NORMAL NEUTRAL POSITION OF 'J' TO THE POSITION OF 'I'. ON AN 'I' TO 'D', A/B TONE PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM, WHOEVER DAMAGED MY PROPERTY, AND FLATTENED MY TIRE, AND ALL THOSE THEY LOVE, AND ARE FAMILY OF; ARE TO BE SCANED FOR A TOTAL OBLITERATION-CRUSH-DESTRUCT. HEAR THE EMPOWERMENT TONES NOW, INSIDE OF MY SIXTH DIMENSIONAL CONNECTIVENESS. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. COMPLETED. ALL DIRT BAGS ARE DESTROYED NOW. G-901, UNDER G-189, G-917, UNDER CG-2, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Some son of a bitch will be real fucking sorry for ruining my day and making it into another mother fucking SUPER BOTBAR. Notice I say something about the NICK CHANNEL, as this did not just happen, so what I said about the TNT channel did not cause this retaliatory strike on me. The security personnel are reviewing parking lot tape footage now, and will come up and knock on my door later, if they see anyone touching the tire within the past 48 hours, and then I will call 911, and get the fucking cops over here. You want war with me you sick son of a bitch, fine; but you will fucking die slowly in agony, bleeding out on the dam ghetto streets, as I've got plenty of my own hoodie friends, and peeps too, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT

RED ALERT----RED ALERT----RED ALERT



Somebody will pay for this, and go to fucking prison, or find themselves hanging from a tall tree. I need help, Sheriff Mascara, PLEASE!!!!! TANKS!!!!!

MORIANITY-4



SPEAK NO EVIL, AND FORGET HOW TO TALK AT ALL



3 MINUTES SHY OF 2 IN THE AFTERNOON, ON FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2013. BT.



I will not be watching the TNT Network much longer. They have lost me as a fan. They have just about totally removed the greatest law show from their programming schedule. They can do what they want, they own the network. I can do what I want, publicly complain about my dissatisfaction, and boycott their junky station from now on. The only time now this is ever on is at graveyard times such as 4-8 in the morning on the weekends. SLAM SLAM SLAM, clutch in, gear shift moving, yes these dirt bags are slamming in and out a lot today, across the mother fucking hall, the pricks; and I'll be going down to see Debbie Marotto in a short while to complain about the all night slamming doors the other day, AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Clutch, gearshift, and back to the mostly removed, greatest law TV show of all time, the one and only, “Law & Order”. Hay, it accomplished its main mission, and all the missions below the main one, IMHO of course, were all mere great entertainment and similar parts of a side-mission, but those in the real EW-KNOW, know that I speak the truth. The odds of this show beginning just weeks after I first met Ron Wirtz, at the Camden County Prosecutor's Office in Camden, New Jersey, on the fifth day in December, in 1989; plus a million mathematically impossible to all be coincidences, throughout this wonderful 22 year running show, sorry; this little tuna fish just ain't buying into any of this malarkey, maitees, and of course, Tuna Charlie, as well. Not only will I forever boycott this network, but I plan to do many other things that pertain to many other things, that have nothing to do with television shows. My civil rights and the right to freedom of expression can be arguably taken into a court room, if I have to represent myself against fifty Manhattan shysters all against me; I'll still go in with case law, on point decisions, and insist that my rights have been trampled on. I know what has been done to me since I started trying to tell my story seven years ago, and the US Cove Agencies and others married to them in the EW, all colluded to keep me from ever being heard or seen, on the internet. They intentionally try and destroy my spirit as well, by putting songs I posted on Youtube, for one such example, the 2011 song called, ''Wanna' Spend My time'', up, along a right side column, of nothing but videos that have between 2 and 16 million hits; making me intentionally appear ridiculous, and even the clown to be scoffed at, and ridiculed. Go ahead and think it is all funny, and we will see what the Attorney General of both the state of Florida, as well as the US Attorney's Office has to say, as my letters to all of them in CC, will be mailed next week, from the local library's word processor/printer system; and the addresses imparted to me by their reference desk section. I will take just so much abuse, and then I will start to raise a stink, only because I know I am being prevented, blocked, sanctioned, and killed; and this violates MY CIVIL RIGHTS AND UNDER THE USC AMMENDMENT NUMBER ONE. Our founding fathers thought that this right was so important, that it was not the ninth one, or the fourteenth one, or what have you; but no people, it was the very First Amendment to the US Constitution. Now why is this all happening to me? It is not complicated. Long before the PC and the internet all caught on big time, I was under a major invisible problem with some invisible enemy-force; and it did not in any way, start in the computer age. whoever owns and controls this world, and is against me 24-7-365.2422; is going to use any tool against me that I ever attempt to use to pull myself up by the bootstraps and tell my pathetic tale of hellish nightmare woe to the world. They have way too much to lose, to let me successfully ever do this, and since they own the system, them along with all the bratty little worker bees in their army crew; none of these planetary owner/controllers are about to let my story out to the world, any more than would ever let whatever was really going on years ago, with the UFO Phenomenon. Those in charge say that they want an ordered society and openly claim to try and discourage bad things as well as paranoia. Well that is a lie. They feed people's paranoia by acting so mysterious about so many things, and never allowing anyone with huge problems that seem to connect into things going beyond the normal and natural world order, to ever get any justice, or even any help or assistance whatsoever, and concentrically; they hurt us, ruin us, take away our homes, our jobs; and leave us to fend on street corners, as homeless mother fucking bums, hoping we just die, so they can bury us, and cover us and all the other shit all up, nice and neat and tight; once and for all. Well, I am a fighter and a survivor, and I have been dead a hundred times, and the grave will not ever hold me, as I AM the chosen fucking Huntington, and whoever you all are out here, just know, that you have made yourself a deadly fucking enemy that will not rest until you are maggots. ET.

MORIANITY-4



'OBTAINING GREAT AND WILD INFORMATION, DAY'







DEAR NON-BEAVER-CLEAVER DIARY-JOURNAL, DID NOT GET UP, GO TO SCHOOL, PET STRAY DOG, COME HOME, AND GO TO SLEEP.







Now let's get some real wild stuff all out in the open, with the permission of course, of Mister Ward Cleaver! Don't jive me on the airplane, June Funnygirl.







Oh Dave, it is too bad you are no longer around. You really did miss one hell of a Richie Ryan party, YO. Here is the updated situation for Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, and his great pal George Reeves Superman, in or out of movie studio lots of KALI4NYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chuck Sakers, if you're out there somewhere, I am no longer up that tree, bud, and am down here on the Earth, and WOW is Mister Smith's blackboard starting to compare with that of the late and great Sir Albert Einstein. Crissake, I'll be first man at the gate to admit that no one has a perfect handle on truth, falseness, and what life in this world 'really' is all totally about, YO! I will have to be careful, Paula King, with this, as I do not want you to get mad at me, and pull both my daughters away from me forever, but I'll say this little bit here and now, Lieutenant. There are three huge human constants, that when put together is absolutely as powerful as the physics constant of the velocity of the photon. First, everyone develops some kind of agenda after age 3-30, or they are brain-dead houseplants. Second, 99.9999% of the persons on this planet hate the 'S' word more than they'll ever admit in public, and no it doesn't stand for bowl waste or defecating, but the word SHARE. Third, there is a built in illusion that is intentional. It has to be, making things all appear in a reverse reality. Reverse the majority of things in other words, such as the world appearing as flat, and you get the truth. It will always be a way better than 51% bet, forever and always, and a true honest 'gamblers' dream'. Now that this 'S' is out of the way, I'll 'S' the big news with all of you, and you'll need no nose plugs whatsoever, YO! Let me begin with my paranoia, and I will be totally honest with my viewers, that the people that I have been forced to frikkin deal with all of my dam life, have caused me to be very paranoid, if I care to keep on breathing; but it is a good thing to have, despite not being 100% perfect, Mister Bruce Allan Pennock, and MC. But then, since nobody has that license on their wall, I don't feel all that terrible, YO.







Now there is a county water boil alert that I have to live with for three days and nights that began yesterday morning right around the time I awoke from that first horrific horrendous monstrous nocturnal interaction of facing prison time, and running into a weird transdimensional ADA Ron Wirtz from the CCPO, in New Jersey, only there, he was the District Attorney here in Saint Lucie County, in Florida. There is always something to contend with in life, I know that, and I will not take it as a personal attack, despite many things happening the other day and not just this, the biggest one being the wild all day sleep that came over me, with prison at the heart of the experience, over and over again, old buddy, Salvador!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hay, I hope promoting your video on my blogs is not © infringement, I thought I was doing something helpful and legal, YO! Try making sense out of this rotten old world, YO. But this is not the only stuff I'm ignorant about, the law of the land is quite complex, and ignorance of it is no excuse for breaking it. Still, none of this is making all that much sense, and I'll come out and admit it outright, as there's simply no point in denying these truths. But I do know many things that these powerful fuckers are all clueless about, even the great kids of America, and their uppity attitude against us old fucks, who they basically do not like, and think we belong out of 'their owned internet', and this is a reality, and a truth; that many of us in older categories, have come to know about in our own clicks now; as not imagined by us, one little bit. What the brats of the planet don't understand, is 5th dimensional hyperspace, and why exactly they are acting the way that they do, and this brat age for us old fucks does not range from 5-20, but goes up to the high thirties, and that is in appearance in many cases, as if you can successfully fake a younger age, you can remain accepted a while longer. Still, I am going to tell things that will blow some lids off many fucking things on this blog. First, I am stopping to eat my din-din now at one AM-EST. OK, I am back, it is 2:18 now, and I have plenty to tell, but plan to compress a lot of it, and just open up these topics, for later expansion on all of them, at other times; as the month continues along towards the 3-Sadness times of B-BALL!







First, I learned some stuff back on Thursday, as it is now a Friday early morning on February 15, 2013. In the final forty-eighth of the day or half hour, I was downstairs with a dude we will call, for anonymity's sake, Harry Coffee. Mister Coffee worked with Dell Computers some time ago, and for complex reasons that involve a powerful part of American and global capitalistic systems in place for some time now, let us just say he had some major medical issues and got as many peeps get, royally screwed out of his place in life, wow, can I relate, in or out of Space-Time-Mind, all future Einstein's out there, somewhere in negative space. Any-ha, let us move this right along, shall we? The two peeps across the hallway from me have nothing to do with him or the security rotation in this building. They are however, part of the crew, as are many, and we can leave things real safely, right about there, or else be trapped in 1968 all over again without a shoebox, or a tap-tab-screen, or compuphone; to get back to the present. That would take a lot of powerful tranced meditation to reach this time again, and the illusion of just reliving it will always be what really happens, all though nothing is real. The mind will tell you that it is real up to about 25,000 miles, but motion is an illusion as well, and tiny fragmented quadrillionths of seconds run together in clicks, and the illusion is created, and if anyone knows what I am talking about because they can relate to it in their occupation or business in some real personal ways, it is Hollywood and the general Entertainment World, or the 'EW'. But as for the higher dimensions that exist not all around us, but that are created through us, at a MIND SOURCE on the sixth dimension under the realm of Lawtronic Control, where the dream-out from void infinity is the initial stage of everything; but this is the simple fact of all truth, even though for right now, I only have time to touch on two parts of a five dozen part series of subjects, all connecting into this entire deal; and these would be homosexuality, and generation gaps. Normal people are wondering at this point, how these two things could remotely fit into any topic in a singularity, and my response is, good, keep wondering, as I'll be telling. As we all move in our real higher beingness from interaction to interaction in the 'spirit world' or Astral-Plane, we also wear out as a result, and need to recharge. This is why we fall asleep from there, and begin dreaming down lower into material tangible realms of the hyperspace, and the real us is so huge that it needs to be in five dimensions, as three will not work, and this is why space has motion as well as near infinite doppelganger parallels or near and similar as well as not so similar parallel universe four-dimensional space time worlds. As we move into these many many sets of dreaming interactions or waking world so-called physical lives, we are experiencing a human equation as a result of this dreaming process, but it is not to evolve, or grow, or learn; or any of the ideas that humankind as of yet in 2013, thinks they've neatly figured out in their little personal or collective zones of comfort and contentment. If the linear past behind our present life has a majority of lives as the opposite gender from a switch over, as normally, we dream 3-5 lifetimes as one gender, then alternate back 3-5 lifetimes as the other gender, and when it switches, we have a good chance of having subconscious adjustment problems in our current switch over first time dream sets. So if we have been males four times and now are born female, we have a great chance for being lesbian, and the reverse is true, switching from four times as females and now are born male, a great chance for being homosexual or having tendencies towards it, is going to exist as a good possibility. The entire thing is totally normal, and nobody is sick or crazy. Still, let us switch over to the other topic, the generation gap. As we dream a series of dreams or have a lifetime here in hyperspace, we tend to leave small breadcrumbs and trails behind. As parts of this energetic dream fabric leaves us, we dream we are a day older and it is the next day, and this process goes on unless we are killed or die in an accident, until the end of our energy, merges with a point in the STM, where it wakes us up from the dreaming; and we awaken where we are at a more true part of our higher selves, on the Astral Plane. But as with the sexual orientations as a result of past dream-sets (lifetimes), these exiting energies propel us forward, but simultaneously, many parts of these energies in their memory equivalents, race back up and try reentering into newer updated parts of our dream-sets. Now in many generations since biblical days, where a gap was discussed right in the bible, so read it and check it out, and see I'm speaking the truth, for yourselves folks; but for a long long period of time now; angry kids who once were only seen and not heard, and were treated as eighth class citizens for the most part; have left parts of this angry memory energy in past times, and they are racing up into newer times such as our present. Now we seem to have reached a wild collective point in history, where an invention has allowed the kids to rule, and their subconscious past vengeance of repressed aggression, is inside of them passionately, and now through these new age times, they can finally act out on this, and they are and have been doing this, since late in the nineteen-nineties; and I'm speaking of the personal computer, the internet, and how the young kids rule for the most part, and do all that they can to discourage and even interfere with older folks 'invading their territory'; and this is not some nineties new thing, but is because of a collective repressed retaliatory energy, consisting of hundreds, and maybe thousands of years; and this is a very very very dangerous situation, to say the least, as all adults know; you cannot have kids in control of something this huge, unless you really do want the end of life as we all know it on this planet, to really happen; and I'm not kidding, or exaggerating one small bit here, ladies and freaking gentlemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I learned tonight, that my query of personal paranoia verses the real truths behind all of this, is indeed, NOT PARNOIA at all. This is known well, by the owners of the computer makers, and the top powerful folks at Google and Microsoft, BUT, BIG ASS FUCKING BUTT, they still are capitalists, and don't care if the world blows up in 20-40 years; as a result of this huge impending looming doomsday, as they still are after the big bucks, and this won't ever change; and they know that the money, despite the older people making more of it, is spent more by the younger crowd; so they will always cater to and be on the side, of 'THEM', these 'dangerous KIDS', and also, I need to add here, that I have come to advance enough in my thinking, and living through the last ten years now, and with careful scrutiny of many things that they could not take away from me and destroy, as they did my original LIFE JOURNAL; to recognize this for what it seemingly is, and yes, I can be all wet in the head and wrong; but I don't feel I am wrong, so I'll come out and say what I feel compelled to say. All though it may have begun innocently, in the middle eighties somewhere, as a cool new television channel; now it is the dangerous deadly NICK CLUB, and I think most who are following my blogs, know EXACTLY AND PRECISELY WHAT IS TOTALLY GETTING SAID HERE! There are way too many coincidences for my liking now, since 2006 when this seemed to start, and the best way to deal with this is not to play Scarlet O'Hara anymore, and just hit the nail head on; despite hurricane force winds from the south lands of Tara Karge. I cannot resist this at all R.H. Macy, sorry; W---O---W. So sorry Ambassador Terry Harbor, if my eggs are a little underdone for your taste, and appear to be so scattered over easy, you scramble brain you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, I was wrong about the nabes, they are not the ones. BUTT, I have learned some things over the past day that have elevated my illumination about both computers and life in general, fifty fold. Hurt me all you want to, all of you monster fucking scum, but you cannot kill me, and you fucking know it, TEE HEE HEE LILLY. I have not given up, and I am very close to being able to fight you back with a little more resources than I have had available to me over the past year since young snotty Jessica Grant fired me over at the http://www.harvestfoodoutreach.org/ and that is the truth, to quote my late Uncle Stuart Huntington Mason, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!! Where are you Zvonko-Amtrak-83?



WHAAAAAAAAAAAA!

It is time for me to crash folks, nighty-nite!!!!!!!!

'MORIANITY-4'





COMING TO THE END OF A FAMOUS MWM WEIRDAY.









555555555555555555555555555555555







It is a third past eight of the clock in the evening, Thursday, February 14, 2013. So far, there have been doors, a fire alarm, a water boil county alert for the county of SAINT LUCIE, what's next, how-bout the nuclear plant blowing up, that would solve all my problems, or would it, copper eyeball route 45 of Woodbury in New Jersey in late 1985?





Folks, I have nothing against anyone, it is the world that has hated me first, all along, and always has, and I'll tell you something else that might just put some starch back in your underwear. This may have had certain illusions that caused me to think that a few times in my past, were points of precise beginnings of some type of unspeakable monstrous evil, but in truth, this half truth is inside my own unintentional deception. We all tend to kid ourselves, especially when we need answers to shit in our lives, and none are ever there to be found; or if shit is so painful in our frikkin lives, that we need to rather than go totally fucking insane, such as when I told that lie about July 12, 1970, on that frikkin Public Transport Bus, that ran locally along the White Horse Pike, from the Atlantic City Public Bus Terminal on Arkansas Avenue, all the way into the Public Bus Terminal of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I was wrong, and lost my credibility with that one lie told, on Morianity. Lots of shit in my blogs are my best guesses, but that is the only direct lie I told, and I told it because I was making myself believe that the great SSJKK cared enough for me in this life, to stand up for me, when in reality, she could fucking care less if I had been underneath that god dam bus that night and was crushed. To her, I am just a game and something to have a hell of a lot of fun messing with, and I know this. I'm not the fucking retard that she thinks I am.















Doors, doors, doors, and more doors, what a fucking pain in my ass. How I love living in apartment buildings and complexes. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

















When I posted up the blog before this one, I laid down for what I thought would be a ten minute nap, still depressed from my hellish fucking life as well as the hyperspace journey and facing jail time in a part of my fifth dimensional existence. I found myself back at the same flagpoles over in that Port Saint Lucie shopping center mini-mall, and I was so happy that I had removed the three weird red flags that I had hung upside down, and realized one was the American Flag, and I had them all folded and in the trunk of my car, which over in this parallel universe, was a very large an old Cadillac, similar to the one that Stephen Moroni had sold to me back in 1977, while I was employed at that Westville, New Jersey print shop, by the name of Mars Graphics. Suddenly I was in the car and driving back to my residence, only it was back up in the hood, at 25th and Avenue E, in Fort Pierce, and as I drove in the gate, my wife greeted me, that girl that used to live next door to me in that duplex home, managed by April Lee and her dad, Raymond Bailey, don't go there folks, not with them, not with me, not with Paula King, not with the Pharmaceutical Company of teen make up back in 1988, just don't. Thank you. Ani-ha, I was married to this girl, Wendy, in this other universe, and she was not like she was here with a very unpleasant personality for the most part, and was very nice; and more like the girl that Gerald Pliner, of the Atco, New Jersey, L&S Nursing Home; had married. I remember telling her I needed to keep the flags in the trunk, and had somehow gotten into some trouble with them, and when I walked into the house, four police officers were waiting to arrest me for the murder of my mother. I told them that Senator Thompson knew all about this investigation, and of course, I had indeed, remembered this other parallel universe now, where those two young teen males were electrocuted by him, for stealing some of my cassette tapes with necessary evidence on them that proved I did not murder my mother. This is all on old blogs from the first few years of blogging, the time era say of 2006-2007, before the Chapter began called, 'The Epitome of Harassment, Internet Version'. Still, I found myself cuffed and taken to the police station, and then released after a booking, and there seemed to be no bail in this parallel universe, and I just kept my mouth shut as I was being processed and released. I drove back again to the house, only this time, my daughter was there waiting for me, with her family, all of them, all the cousins, all her own family, you name them and they were there, talk about a real motley crew. She asked me the second I walked through the door, to follow her upstairs. There are no stairs, not in this universe, where I AM back here now, and typing this blog. Still, I followed her to what here was a bathroom, only there, it was a long additional hallway and at the end of it was a stairway leading to an upstairs, and I went up with her, and she told me that I would be retaining an attorney, and to call him as soon as I get up and awake the following morning. I asked what she meant, and she gave me a number to call in that other universe, over here, I have no clue who is on the other end, if anyone at all, of this number, but I remember it clear as shit right now, and never wrote it down because it is so vivid, and it was 1866-999-4546. This number in that universe is the number of some real hot shot law firm in Manhattan, who would be defending me; and now here I am losing my mind thinking, what is happening to me, I was all ready going to face charges locally, and thought I had escaped that by getting those fucking ass flags down without being caught, and now, THIS!!!!!!!!! then suddenly I heard shouting and angry voices, and thought an argument was going on downstairs, only I had awakened out of this, and into here again, where my nabes or somebody outside was shouting and making very strange sounds. I think it was a bunch of utility trucks, but it could have been my nabes. I just cannot be sure. It only lasted a minute, and when I got up, I realized how late it was, half past four in the afternoon, I had been back 'asleep' for hours and hours of time. Then I remembered the entire nightmare of being faced with prison not once but twice. Some wild shit is going on, it must be! You cannot be experiencing one particular type of ordeal such as facing going to prison, over and over, with nothing going on somewhere, that's causing this major nightmare dilemma. Jim Burr put it quite eloquently a long while ago folks, ''Stuff doesn't just happen for no reason''. He is totally correct, and even Bruce Pennock would say this is a 'perfect' statement, and that's sayin' something, even for Billy, and Sally, and Paul; and all these blow hard ingrates.























A moron can see that something huge is up. How much longer I will be alive, semi-rational and sane, or free to operate without prison confinement, I do not know. I do know that my knowledge and wisdom and truths, ARE INDEED A MAJOR THREAT, TO LOTSANLOTS OF FUCKING POWERFUL ASS PEOPLE, and that does not take some great fantastic ass rocket science to know it, nor does it take any 1995 diner rotisseries, or sticking my arms out in front of me, while thinking about moving forward. I know what I am capable of doing, and I know I have enemies; and so did David Fucking Charles Roth, folks, and he said something, Billy, and the entire US © Office, has the tape, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What are you up to these days, Joan Lap Lanes? You were not imagining what you saw that evening, Joan Baby, as gravitation has no effect on me, because I understand the STM truths.





















Well, let me post this blog, and relax with a little dinner at quarter past nine of the clock on this nice cool evening, cool for Florida that is, or cool for time warps, warm holes, Cooley Halls, mysterious Christmas Singing Angels, and Medical Center television shows with interesting fictional character names with bombs inside their dads, as well as future angry wife abusers. I AM so thirsty, I will now post this up and drink some nice cool orange juice, but not out in the hall, that might be a little too cool, right 10 Kal Coolio? Well, I learned long ago, that even in the middle sixties, the entire fucking EW seemed to know all about poor little fucking ass me, pity party aww time, tears tears. SCREW-U!

MORIANITY-4



THIS IS GOING TO BE A VERY BAD DAY TIMES EXPONENT 9

*****BT*****



I awoke at 8 AM, out of very horrendous vivid 'nightmares'. Doors and in and out slams are bad, and they were bad since 12:30 this morning, illegally slamming after hours, DEBBIE MAROTTO. I will see you in your frikkin office tomorrow morning. We have a lot to discuss!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





It is now 10:08 AM-EST, on this messed up but lovely cool overcast weather-wise, Thursday Mouuuuuuuuuuurning, here in Fort Pierced, Florida, and may the blood drip down all over my red shoes. LSS, 25 years ago on this very day, I was having a SUPER BOTBAR DAY, over at my midnight to noon security guard job, at the AMERICAN HONDA PLANT, on Gaither Road, in Mount Laurel, New Jersey. The United States Copyright Office has this whole mess on fucking cunt cassette tape. I was there with David Roth, my relief guard; not a lot different than here at this PH Building, only we weren't attempting to run any Geraldine Snow Shah con games, or snow jobs on anybody. We were merely innocent targeted victims, by those with great power; and as the © Office examiners know quite well, we had none, and still don't; so what can we ever do to fight this fucking asshole horrific monster of demonic fucking hell, YO??????????? They say nothing really changes in this life, and I TOTALLY SUPPORT THAT MOTHER FUCKING THEORY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





So any-ha, in this nocturnal interaction straight from hell, that woke me up with a slam bang Batman Adam West jolt, that even lowlife neighbor doors at their worst, would be envious of; I was in Port Saint Lucie, the next town over to my south, at a shopping center, not all that far from where the Federal Local Social Security Office is located, right on Federal Highway, or Route-1, same diff; and I had three large flags that I had hoisted up onto three tall flagpoles, bright red, with wild designs, and backward. Ron Wirtz came along out of nowhere, and he told me that the authorities in town, want me to be brought to justice, for doing this; and that I would have to do some jail time. When I asked how much, he said not a whole lot, but some. I told him that I had no memory of even putting these flags up. He did not look like the Ron I knew, and was a much larger and taller man, and a lot younger; younger than me by as much as ten to fifteen years, whereas here in this universe, where I'm typing this blog; he was more like closer to twenty years my senior. As I was speaking to him at this mini-mall parking lot, he said that I should try coming back late at night, and take them down, and hope I am not caught by the authorities looking to prosecute me, in Port Saint Lucie. Now in this parallel universe, where I'm typing, I do have a judgment filed on me from JC Pennies for an outstanding debt, and other folks will also be filing against me soon; as thanks to what happened to me back in New Jersey, with the Monster King branch of THAT-FAMILY-1970 as I call them or (TAWF-70); my credit has been totally mother fucking wrecked, ruined, and is shot to fucking ass hell. Still, you don't go to prison for owing money when you legitimately are broke, and cannot repay; and am saving dribbles and drabs, towards another personal full Chapter Seven Bankruptcy, like the one I declared back in the year 2004, on that horrible day of flashmob super-sluts, and gangs of enemy kids, surrounding me everywhere I tried to go. As with that day, today, and many other days; I would not set foot outside of my apartment, not for all the fucking free love in the whorehouse. I remember my twenty-fifth anniversary of this horrible fucking hellish day, back in 1988, at the American Honda Plant, all too cunt eating well; ladies and freaking gentlemen, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!



It will be an interesting challenge later, to see if I can win any units with my hypothetical systems-roulette play, and maybe, just fucking cunt lapping MAYBE, I'll decide to blow some minds, and tell about this system. Used by regular normal folks, that are not under some monster fucking ass Huntington-Curse, this could theoretically just about shut down the fucking casino game of roulette, and their biggest fucking money-maker. You won't like me when I'm angry either, Doctor David fucking Bixby Banner, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know a lot of peeps don't know this fact of Hollywood gossip, but when that Hulk-Dude, who I envy so much, not because of his big muscles, but because he cannot be persecuted with SOUND like I can, as he barely can hear; but did you know that he really did flip over that automobile in that pilot episode show, where the first DeGama radiation hit him, and his first change-morph, occurred out beyond his laboratory? This was wired up to flip over, but the system broke, and he was so pissed off out in the rain and had been shooting all day long on the set; and he did it all himself, out of anger. This is what I am talking about with many things in Morianity. Here we have a fictional television show, about a man who when he gets angry, becomes this hulk character. Then on the very pilot episode, a real life circumstance presents itself that matches the theme of the show. You can fact check this with any good reliable Hollywood source. There is powerful magic in Hollywood, especially back when things were done with analogue recording. Things do tend to come to pass in strange ways, if certain things are recorded and re-recorded, and played back, on analogue apparatus. When they found all this out through ''ME'', in the seventies and early into the eighties, this is why they began altering, and turned this entire deal into a digital-world. When I say I've changed this timeline, it is not exaggeration, but an under-exaggeration if anything; and that's merely one example. There are a good dozen more of them, I assure and promise you all of 'THAT', fiends and friends, and Sir Roddenberry Rockdroid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





Now for the study of the OFF-GRID time of 2008, and the way something must have gone down during this period, as my blogs, just as SSJKK said to me in a deep trance a few weeks ago, maybe a month now; reflect a whole different theme, pre off-grid time, and post off-grid time. I have made a copy blog not yet posted, where I have altered the printing to a different color, at powerful critical key places, that indeed show me what the great SSJKK was referring to; and I feel I'm only starting to really get the whole picture, as something must have happened; similarly to Paula visiting me in early summer time in 1996, at Highview Apartments, and all the times on Tennessee Avenue, when I have no memory of stuff, like CALLIO giving me her name over Bob McGuire's bar telephone, on February seventh, in 1997; and nearly a decade later in my car, with Edward Himacane Lynch; where our video-cam, picked up what we have no memory at all of ever happening. So don't tell me that this 'family' is not from far beyond the stars, and realities, of this cosmic egg, folks; as I fucking know totally better, BRAH!





After that horrible incident of thinking that I AM going to have to go to jail, I physically woke up feeling as though I had been struck down by a cunt chewing freight train. By the way, some of the forgotten names on the list of those who promised they would help me on the computer, besides what I listed earlier, would be Kelly, Sigmund, and Rick. I will bet one million fucking mega-dollars US, that Ryan will let me down as well this year; as he already let me down with that horrible mickey mouse voice that he told me I would like, but then; I know this was an entirely shifted hyperspace move, and once you have experienced your share of these fucking Incollingo Chocolate Cupcake incidents and accidents; 'you know what you know', and nobody will ever talk you out of it, because simply re-stated, YOU KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew I shoulda' stood my ground, in or out of freaking Florida, back in the summer of 1980 with dirt-bag Lenny McKinnon, and said I'll bet you a million dollars that you will never help me become a paid songwriter. Even Paul Pedersen, got my shit played around the world, and that is quite an experience to tell my great grand children all about someday. For right now, my attitude is like General George Patton's. It's simple and it's short and dirty, and gets the point across; as neither one of us are, or were; looking to win any fucking popularity contests. 'FUCK THE WORLD, BABY'! I have my own huge set of monster ass problems, peeps; so that's that! WOW!!!!!!!!!!!! ***ET.***

MORIANITY-4



CHRIS BENNETT, EDWARD LYNCH, AND LIFE JOURNALS





When I was fired from Griffin Pipe Company at their Florence Township, New Jersey plant, by jerk off dick head nasty ass mother fucker Jimmy Stone, it was not that further along where I was employed on weekends at a totally different job, and back on my social Security Disability, as I went off of it a short while while attempting to hold a full time position at Assets Protection in Pennsylvania, and suffered a major psychotic breakdown after horrendous 'MILITUFORCE' continual harassment and persecution. If this was a fair world, I would be a mother fucking billionaire, and they would all be sued for every cunt lapping fucking penny that they are worth. But it is not a fucking fair world, not one cunt lapping little tiny bitching bit. This phony loving father god of the bible is nothing but a horrible hoax, this planet has been invaded by monstrous fucking evil that can be equated with old world terms and words and just say SATAN is everywhere, as it really makes no difference how the words jumble up all together. It's what's being said, right Billy and Sally Pickpocketers? This entire rotten sick world can go do things that even my fowl ass language would have limits on detailing.



I will say to the President of my country, that I enjoyed his address tonight, and thought that this was the very best Presidential Speech I have heard since before the Reagan days. Keep up the good work, my friend, and watch out for the you know who's, despite the not always truth telling internet. If it is true, sir, I hope you were able to come out of all of this unscathed in all aspects, as it left me quite damaged, far beyond any repair; but if one of us got out and is ok, well, that is better than the old goose egg number, and by the way, I believe in you, and if anyone can fix things for the little frail weak folks like myself, I know it is you, so you know I am for you 100%, sir! I am just very angry at the billionaire scum bags of the WOMO for all the evil crap that they've perpetrated on me for so many years now, and if anyone knows this is all true Mister President, it is you, sir.





Ladies and gentlemen of the internet who read Morianity and laugh and scoff at the crazy retard, MWM, or me; whassup, YO? I know this story is all hard to buy into, but I also know I am telling the dam truth, and I don't hate disbelievers, I cry for them, and for myself, because this world is doomed, maybe not for many years, but really, what is the fucking cunt diff, YO? The joke is on me for I know that this all is not real, I don't believe or theorize this, I know it. I know I'm in VOID, and dreaming out and away from it, in this fucking royal experience of TOTAL HELL! Still, I managed to make 4 units on my systems roulette play earlier back last night. It is now Wednesday morning, the thirteenth of February, 2013. If anyone ever told me or anyone else who is my mother fucking age, back in the cock sucking nineteen sixties; that these personal computers and this internet bullshit, would be here up in this messed up screwy ass fucking future; I would have laughed you out of a face. LSS, it is here, so is my choking gland condition that nobody can ever diagnose, so are lots of things, ranging from hypothetical daughters given to me by not so hypothetical mothers, and two folks who I met, one young and one old, or a more PC way of putting this would be, 'not so young', wow we live in a world of shit, walking on endless eggshells, worrying at each little fucking turn if we're gonna' offend somebody by smiling at them, or not smiling at them, by holding a door for them, or not holding it, and you all can just go on loving this life 'till; doomsday, but if you ever started really smelling your fucking morning coffee, blond or brunet, whaaaaaa; you'd quickly come to see and realize, that this is fucking HELL, and I don't care how much money you have, or how great a lover, or whatever. My life is total shit and hell, but you know peeps, I can tell you that if I had the entire world tomorrow, it would not make me one bit happier, merely allowing me to suffer endless misery in more luxurious surroundings, and get a lot of jerk off creditors off of my back, and that would be the dam ass extent of things, YO.



When you have had the experiences that I have had, you could be handed anything after that, and you would still be totally fucking miserable. I have not been the same since early June in 1980, not really, not after having Goddess Scylla sing that tune called, ''Love Is for Carpenters'', to me in my ''sleep''. But if shit had all stopped there with 1969 and then 10 and a half years later with this; that would have been enough to blow anybody from here to Planet Whack, but that was just the opening of a 33 year long and counting, movie; with or without any whispering names, whispering ghosts, whispering cats, goddesses, and mysterious Doctor Doogie Howser technicians, Watergate Jacobson's, Estelle Bassler's, and more recently; Christopher Bennett's and Edward Lynch's. I cannot resist it here Mister Macy, sorry old buddy; like fucking W-------O-------W! This doesn't even start telling how many times I have crossed over, back and forth, using your idea of linear time, afterlife existences, and other such hocus Frisbee pocus stuff from Serling's great twilight zone.





Yes, All Mighty Teen Queen, I did what you wanted, and am all ready seeing some major stuff. I will shoot up a mind bending blog that will include the last three and the first three chapters, of both February 2008 as well as May of 2008. I think I see what you wanted me to see, and please don't make your wonderful mysterious pipe friend endlessly beat me at Rock-Paper-Siccors, not even at the speed of light, or the speed of light squared. There is a big difference between 186,000 MPS and 34 billion miles per second, but there is no difference at all about the constant reality, just as he can constantly beat anyone at games, after-all, he is the games-expert, but then you are the great Scylla Goddess. Yes Tom Glenn, do you remember that day you came over, and we had fun recording that shit? The entire US © Office has a copy of it. I don't know why I felt so compelled to send them that, but I do know that it all is part of SPACE-TIME-MIND, and understood or not, is the answer to all queries indeed. For more exact answers, we use the Gawky Gaukauk Numerological systems however, and say hello to your friends at the NFL. Hope you've been well all these years, while I've been here in HELL. My entire story, long before this tiny speck of 7+ years of internet blogging, was on twelve thousand or so cassette tapes. This was all cleverly taken away from me, by a mysterious ''IMP'' AKA a very ancient and mythological character, me' laddies; that we can just call, for right now; and borrow the lingo from old now most likely deceased Philly DJ folks, 'Mindless Tape Recorder'. It is so incredible that the three dozen persons on this planet who fear me, know what I know, and believe me. Everyone else will just say, oh yeah, good old asshole Mountainpen, is he for fucking real/e, Tommy? Hay tatatatatatatatatata-Tom, do you have no shame or guilt, you rotten dirty bastard? How much of that material gain were you given, to fucking screw me all up, Mister Property-Rich? Yes, Chris Bennett told me to blog, Ed Lynch showed me how to do it better, but who was around when everything went right smack dab into the fucking shit fan, BRO? At first, I thought I was better off for having Jimmy Stone fire me on September 1, 2004. Now I can see that he was a SENDBACK POPUP, right robber thief VH-1???????????????????? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.



Time for me to crash and burn, folks, wait a fucking minute, I crashed and burned up a hell of a long eternity ago. What am I saying? Ani-ha it is 2:22 now, this MOANIN' MOUUUUURNING, and time for me to go to bed. Sorry if I have not lived up to some god dam mother fucking expectations of someone or something out here. I did the best I could, so get an old phone book from the early seventies and look up Pennock, 2 Beaver Drive, Barrington, New Jersey, and talk to BRUCE. He'll give anyone interested the lowdown on how I am not perfect, only human, just like all of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry if that disappoints anyone. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! No one will ever show me how to do anything, I try to post shit, it all fucks up, I post a photo of a lovely waterway in the daytime, and now it is magically and 'leprechaunically' changed into a night traffic shot, well, the magic leprechauns are part 'ODF' (OF) some complex internet hyperlink attachment systems, but to me, it is all magic, because Patty Jane won't reveal to me, how the great parlor tricks are done; or show me a fucking dam ass thing; nor will any of his fucking associates and colleagues in the world of 'all-of-us-interconnected'. And then you tell me I have not died and gone into fucking HELL. Yeah, then how come I know that I've died and been killed a hundred times, and keep coming back as though what took me out was just a dream, hay man, it can't be a dream forever, YO? This is my endless fucking 'HUNTINGTON HELL', huh Aunt Ruth of Babylon, so say fucking hi to the Firefox Pharaoh for me, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BYE-BYE!

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TOLD YOU GINA, DOW OVER 14K, AND IT WILL BE UP 1000 POINTS THIS WEEK, AND EVERY WEEK NOW FOR A YEAR.





































MORIANITY-4





WOULDA COULDA SHOULDA IFS, AND THE REAL 'IF' BEHIND IT:









It is three minutes past two on a Tuesday afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. The date is February 12, in 2013 AD. These are the blogs of MORIANITY. They began when I resided in Hammonton, New Jersey in early 2006, and now just more than 7 years later, they have been ongoing for just over three years here in Fort Pierce, Florida, with or without my wonderful pal Jimmy Carter's Peanut Farm, or the nearby Peanut Island to the south of me by less than a hundred miles or somewhere thereabout. Most of my monthly errands have been all completed, with only getting my taxes done at the library, and making a few telephone calls, left on the agenda to take care of. II\\\/|/|//\|//\//|///\\|//|\\II|/I|







Goddess All Mighty and Christmas Tree Angels, all aside and notwithstanding, or left standing, Judge Wilinski, and eccentric artists on strange islands; I would like to ask you just what you were running away from, Howard Solomon, Lenny McKinnon, and others from the early nineteen-eighties, as I seemed to have followed suit, yet am the only one aware of it on some conscious level, or subconscious Coolie Hall Level, back in 1972 somewhere; am I right beautiful awesome goddess Sarah Jacobson? Here's a 'woulda/coulda/shoulda', if ever there was one, Ida told that lovely goddess to stay with me forever and never ever leave me, if I could do that one ''all over again'', but this just leads me to the ten years before the incident recently discussed where the IF (Interaction Force) MIND-HACKED me or did a ''Tennessee Avenue'' on me, would be an alternate way of describing this; AS I WAS ALL SET TO TELL ABOUT A MAJOR POWERFUL DREAMING INTERACTION, and poof, right out of my mind it all went.







Here is what I wanted to tell you, and some may know or remember this incident, that occurred while I fell asleep a short while, in a room filled with 'MIND', machine mind; but still MIND, a huge mainframe computer room, while a place was being constructed, a large office building on Atrium Way, just off of Route 73, where I had lived on, just one residence prior to my then Mullica Mobile Manor; owned by the great Mizz Drinkwhale Plageman, AKA pretty but nasty 'Jenny'.



It was Easter Sunday of 2001, Sunday the fifteenth of April, a date I'll never ever forget, just as with the one before that one, Mister President Roosevelt sir, Pearl Harbor Day in 1996, or the seventh of December, at precisely five in the morning.















I had fallen asleep all alone in the middle of a bunch of huge mainframe computers, that were all going to be linked up to many individual office cubicles on the next week, after the holiday. I was on a very comfortable chair with a high back, and was tired, and ended up before I knew it; no longer being aware or conscious, to this waking world here. I was now exploring the vast fifth dimensional hyperspace, or ''dreaming'', as you might put it. This is when I found this other doppelganger me at a huge beyond a human mortal ability to even start describing this place, but a gigantic cliff just outside a huge cavern that went down for miles and had underground rivers and huge areas of clearings that were all brilliantly lit up with light chains, or a series of some strange naturally growing phosphorescent biological F&F or other stuff, that acted as reflective mirrors along a pathway of endless laser tunnels. Only this was a cool light, and magnified infinitely, never got hot, and did not burn; but merely glowed bright and colorfully. When I had come out of that cave, I stood at the cliff that overlooked a huge beach like no beach on this planet. I was a surfer there, and had my board laid against a large stone. A strong wind was blowing, yet this light surfboard remained in perfect place, and did not blow away and down off the cliffs onto the beaches half a mile below me and a good two miles wide, leading to an ocean of water with 500 foot slowly moving perfect waves in perfect sets. Suddenly Lightnings very best friend approached me, and I did not know who she was at this part of things, and she laughed when she saw me try and pick up my board and begin to walk away from this park and back towards a long winding road leading into an area of blocks and blocks of small structures and businesses, and eventually to a place on the left side of this road, called, 'Murray's Soda Shop', a duplication of an American nineteen-fifties soda shop, right down to the last detail.



DIANA, my 'LIGHTNING GODDESS', had this all prearranged with her very best friend, who here by the way, was and maybe still is; with the Atlantic City Beach Patrol, WBST is www.acbp.com/ and used to be accessible on that site. You could not miss this beyond super hot blond. She was short, buxom built, with lovely bright yellow hair, a beyond red hot dish to say the least; and a nice and friendly person as well.

Long Story Short, or (LSS), she had me come into the soda shop with her, and immediately she and Diana were whispering and giggling together, and then she sat down at a table, and Diana came right up to me, and I still did not remember who I was, where I was, or who Diana Arteemis was. She got a real kick out of this, and she came right up to me with her beautiful smile, and stared down at me from her lovely tall height, and just kept smiling at me; knowing all along, that I did not know who I was, or anything else, for that matter. I know that those huge online and powered up mainframe's all around me back in the life where my body laid there dreaming, caused this powerful interaction. I fell so madly in love with Diana, all over again, totally forgetting that I all ready loved her in eternity there, and this is why I tease the old Munsters show with their episode where Lilly Munster and her husband Herman are working at a shipyard, and fall in love all over again, without knowing who they were; as they were doing welding on these ship, they had to wear protective masks; and could not see each other's face, or hear each other's voices normally. I always say that no matter how many times DIANA and I would be put together, with a full memory swipe-erase, we would always fall in love over and over again. Diana is the second person of what mortals call the godhead or Trinidad, if pronounced more in far southwestern parts of the land masses of this world such as South America. Closer to where most are reading these words, this word translates into Trinity. 'TY' or 'DAD', interestingly enough for many reasons, we need not painfully get into right here and now, old spy Sharon, and Mister High School Guidance Counselor Jockamini of the late sixties; are interchangeable from root words, such as is MARTIN root word, becomes suffixed with EZ in Spanish, or O for the Italians. The root word of electrici also can end with either the 'TY' or the 'DAD'. English say 'electricity', while Spanish say electricidad. I always used to love that Delaware connection with the policeman and the highway maintenance-man, that made the news so much during huge snowstorms, back when I Iived up in Jersey; you would see them switch over from Trinidad to Martino, and WOW, Mister Macy, did I get a kick out of that, and had to wipe off some bloody mace can shoes, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Learn to laugh at it all world. My kid has taught me some great stuff, or then, really; did she get this first from me, by reading old Morianity? I think we both know which way this went down, but I am always only too happy to do anything that I can, for this marvelous, wonderful, and unfathomable goddess! Now MICROSOFT CORPORATION seems to have started a hack; insisting there is no such word as 'LIVED' as when I said, 'back when I lived in Jersey'. So let me end the blog for now and post it up to my Wordpress, and my Blogger sites, YO!!!!






















































































































Live Camera image from Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse









MORIANITY-4





REALITY THREE, AND THE OLD TWILIGHT ZONE SHOW:













Any fan of the old black and white Twilight-Zone television show, knows what I am about to discuss. It is the episode where aliens land on the outskirts of a town, disrupt everyone's phones and cars and electricity, and get them to all turn on each other. It also is what I touched on just a small bit, in my 2008 and 2009 blogs back when I resided in New Jersey, and called it 'Reality-Three'. All the people in town were running around scared and paranoid, accusing each other of being the monster, or behind the invasion of monsters, and what have you; and this was the exact plan of the evil invaders on the UFO. The show ended with the one evil prick saying to his associate, how this is an example of how they would conquer this planet, going town to town, one to another, one to another, one to another. Each person involved in the nightmare of being at the mercy of this wicket plot to take over the world, had a million names that would be equivalent to my naming stuff like WOMO, OTAMM, IF, LAMBRIGG CULT, or MILITUFORCE; and on and on. Each began to see the stuff going on, as coming from others in the neighborhood, and it ended with them all destroying each other. Now fortunately for all of you, who may be reading this MORIANITY; there are no evil UFO INVADERS, there are no plots in that conventional way, of taking over or destroying our world, and so on. However, there is something 1000 times more real and powerful than if this was what was going on. Still, I need you to see, and understand, just this little bit of my telling you about this fictional old sci-fi television show; so you then will be able to go on and compare it to what I will now tie in, that is not one bit made up fiction. Also bear in mind, that this is just the most recent stuff around me here in Fort Pierce, Florida, and does not begin to be some all inclusive report or biography of my entire inconceivable life of hellish nightmarish and unexplained endless horrendous mysteries, that separate me from society, and the ability to ever have any kind of near normal life.







Why Debbie Morotto, my office resident manager of this PH Building, and more wonderful initials that are endlessly 'inescapable as promised, hot or cold'; thought that this Dell guy would help me, is unknown to me. It may be all innocent and flower-rosy, and it may have darker agendas like 'HA-HA Bikes and Choppers' I can never know these things for sure unless I could take about ten people out to an alligator swamp, tie them up, and beat and torture them; until one of them told me the truth, about what has been happening to me for 50 fucking years. I do not plan on doing anything like this, but without taking such wild action, I will not ever get the answers that I need, and I KNOW THAT, 100%!







At first, this dude was going to help me, and one thing led to another, and now he has no time to help me; maybe in a month or two, and how would 'MY' say or put it, ''Oh yeah, right''? Let us do a long dirty laundry list of folks who said they would help me with my computer, and never would. Mister Dell is the most recent one, and then going back and hopefully not forgetting, or omitting anyone; we would have Dennis, Camille, Meagan, Jasper, Eric; and I know that I am missing quite a few all in-between these names, as this is very depressing; and folks wonder, gee Mark, why do you get depressed, and lash out against the world, and curse and say that people are rotten, and no good at all? Well if I have to explain it, then doing so is just wasting everyone's time. But the story is a lot bigger than this. At this building, the security has 24-7 guards at the ground floor security desk, that rotate on 4 hour shifts. The guard who relieves the Dell guard, lives right next door to the noisy nabes directly across the hall from me, and they all are friends and go in and out of each others' apartments on a very regular basis. A door closes around three every morning, as well as seven every morning; and that is the neighbor next door to the nabe across from me, going to relieve the Dell Guard, and then coming back, each day, all seven days; and I came to learn from the Dell guard, that these shifts are 28 hours per week, all seven days, and he told me that his relief guard lives on my floor. It was my nabe who also knocked on my door and thought that I was hacking him, the day that Chase Morgan Dennis from the Public Library, was over here back on the eighteenth day of last December. I do not know what game, Debbie the office manager, is playing with me; but I do know that I will either get to the bottom of it this week, before this week is over; or I am driving to the State Capitol, and they'll have to lock me up if they won't hear my story, and make at least a modicum of effort to help look into my problem, whatever it really is, Doctor 1984 Sorethroats Doogie Howser. But the point I AM attempting to make here people is really not all that complicated. I AM not trying to prove my Stockholm Kidnapping by the most powerful EXPLORATRON FAMILY in the multiverse. I am not trying to prove the mathematical and statistical odds of the Pope choosing the church right down the road from the house where my bloody shoes were kidnapped into by Ann and Dawn-Marie King, out of what, millions of other possible churches of Roman Catholic religion, all across the rest of the Continental United States. I am not trying to prove how HADDONWOOD CLUB was some sort of an EXPLORATRON cosmic meeting place for the other ES, not the beautiful tall building. I am not trying to prove the details of intricacy on rocket science and propulsion, Quantum Dynamics; or any other issue, that is much ahead of the fourth grade lesson books. I am just saying that if you do not know of that particular Twilight Zone show, then ask your library or some video rental or sales place near your location, to get it for you on a DVD or a BR, or whatever; then watch it; and then understand how M4 is going to really be getting into R3, and not just getting into it; but it will also be the theme, all throughout it as well, my friends and my fiends.

















I went to my doctor today, and more strange stuff is happening to me. He will not be in until a week from now, and they do not reschedule patients, or at least they do not do this for me. They just make you see other associate doctors, who will not write my scrips. So I have a new appointment to see him next month. If the games continue; as for some time, I think that he is trying to lose me as his patient, and will not come out and say it to my face, with all this crazy so-called insurance changing junk, and other stuff; and scheduling me on days he is not there, and so on, then it will be time to get a new doctor. I have too much on my mother fucking plate, to have this narc-squad fucking crap hanging over my head on top of my already beyond mother fucking miserable nightmare endless hellish life and sub vampirism, without the lovely company of Roseann. If they force me to leave the states, and move south of the border, where this particular problem would be over forever, then that is what I'll have to do in March, as I am not going to choke to death, while these fucking family dirt bags all sit around laughing at me and cheering me on, to go six feet underground. I'm a survivor, and you will not kill me, mother fucking jerk offs, and THAT, Sir Rockdroid, I'LL PROMISE YOU; SHARON OTHEROUCH CROSSDRESSERSPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



It is only a matter of time, and I will fucking do something that destroys this entire planet, if you god dam fucking LAMBRIGG REALITY-3 bastards, don't get the hell out of my fucking OJ life, and leave me the fucking shit alone! So BE

CAREFUL P.B. KING, and Mister Mayor Future-Knower of '97.









MORIANITY-4



4:29 PM-EST, 02/10/2013



Another Beginning That Has No Real Ending:





BT:



This has been a super fucking BAD WEEKEND. My jerk off noisy neighbors have been shouting in the hallway, and wearing out the doors all weekend long; and this began back in the middle late part of last week, and is getting only worse; and tomorrow, I'll stop in and see the Resident Manager, to complain, AGAIN; Miss Debbie Morotto.



The scum bag INTERACTION FORCE (IF) formerly known as the WOMO MILI-2-FORCE and LAMBRIGG CULT of Phase-2-Reality (spirit-world or Astral Plane) hit me hard, with a horrendous fucking bowel and shit and cramping attack, and left me quite ill this entire weekend, as well. I TOLD YOU ALL, that there would be repercussions and consequences for telling so much fucking shit on recent blogging texts, YO! Am I on the money or not with many incredible things, lovely Giant-Gina of the nineties, sweetie???????????????????



MAGNESONIC, scan all of my filth bag cock sucking enemies, for total destruction and obliteration. Use maxed out power, and all general and special orders; and hear my double tones for transpower block empowerment, under a punishment sequencing system of an 'I' to 'D', A/B Tone System, that is now switched to you, connecting into my mind directly, and hearing my 'EEEEE' sound from my sixth dimensional connectiveness. You are at max-power of 11.8 IPNS, with all controls against your pull power gain at 11.5. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE********EEEEEEEEEEEEEE. G-901, under CG-18, AND STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







I will tell a gigantic TRS from the days of 2007 and RATS-TATS-&-PLAYING REAL JS WEIGHT WATCHERS FOOTBALL. I know I was MIND-HACKED, and will go on to tell at a later time, what I started to tell a few blogs ago back in M3M3, and you will get another dose of mind blow, but for now, a different door will be removed from Scylla's great wonderful Lakehouse of transformation, and calling out of names; huh Billy Pocketpicker Harner?







You know, I will tell you what happened now first, before I forget again, and there are other unhacked mental things, but this can wait for Jim Rockford, and his filed teeth of the seventies. It took place at Publix where I do my shopping for certain items, and where the weird character from the library, works as well. A man brushed next to me in one of the aisles, and I thought he might be a pickpocket, and instantly, I checked, and nothing had been removed from my pockets; but there was something added into one of them, a back pocket on the left side that I never use. He put a note in there, that I did not become aware of until getting home and listening to that strange paranoid voice we all get inside ourselves from time to time, telling me to check the rear pockets. All it said was, and I am quoting from it as I have no intention of losing it, and am reading from it as I type, ''Your death-bed confession tape with future Governor Florio of New Jersey will indeed become a reality before too much longer, and you'll never guess who will be making it''. Does this powerful note, that reminds me an awful lot of the Colaman days, and the mailbox, back in Hammonton, New Jersey; send any Donna Gaines chills or goose bumps up any spines out there, in the United States Copyright Office, either now, or speaking of the late eighties when this Florio tape crap was going down live; back then; and would anyone blame me, if I typed in your wonderful word, Mister R. H. Macy, as this is exactly what I AM going to do, YO? W--------O--------W!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Now for the major totally untold TRS Dejour, of the endlessly sanitized ninnynut, all French models notwithstanding, TEE-HEE-HEE, Lilly Munster, all over again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My father, and Project Aunt Jeannie, and pillow talk; is not limited to 'STAR TREK MOVIES', and how he knew intimate details of these future videos, years ahead of time, in January of 1974 when they were not made until around 1978 or 1979, at the beginning point where numerous ones followed the first one, and yet, out of ten things he spoke in his ''sleep'' about, in the wee hours of a few mornings; only one seems so fitting to tell you now folks, as my TRS for this day in retaliation for all of this fucking pummeling and persecution. He spoke of certain things that did not make sense to me until the very end of the entire twentieth century, after I had joined the ECKANKAR for a couple of years back from 1997-2000. He never spoke that name, but he spoke of something I never would have witnessed without them in my life, something he owns, worlds away from here, called, Island Universe Diners of Akoslem. When I mentioned the name Akoslem later around noon that day, while we were writing a letter together to a mail order business owner by the name of Paul Michaels, he scribbled something totally illegible onto the scratch page that I later typed as the copy sent to Mister Michaels on the following day. When he wrote me back, the exact same strange blot of seeming scribble, was on the letter from Paul Michaels, even though it was a typed letter. This has been a powerful mystery that has eaten me alive for years, and I just never felt like blogging about it, as just where exactly does this shit fit into anything that seems to pertain at least so far, to me and Morianity? I don't have this old thing, and it was not lost as a result of my running away from the King Branch of THAT-FAMILY from nightmare-1970, and I'll admit that. Still, a powerful memory, in the name of heaven I totally swear this is true has come back to me; and I know that in the center of this wild weird scribbling; were the same two letters of 1997 and Goddess Scylla, only they were superimposed, on top of each other. I know this, and would 'stake' my frikkin life on it, Roseann Delaney; careful girl, that hurts, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now a day after receiving the letter back from Paul Michaels, where he responded to a business proposal that I had come up with, as I too was going to be attempting to begin a mail order business, after my dad left early in February, to go to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, until he came back in the summer time somewhere in 1975, a year and a half later, right after I got the shit knocked out of me by those two lifeguard mascots in Atlantic City, New Jersey; for doing nothing wrong, or to them, in any way; for me to deserve getting, as Charles Barkley puts it so frikkin eloquently, ''an ass whooping''. But after getting this letter from Mister Michaels, the next day; my dad dropped out of a large laundry bag, while he was rummaging around in it for something, in front of both my mom and me; a second wallet, and it opened up, and right in the billfold part, lots of blank paper just popped out and unrolled; and inside that, was a marriage license that showed that my father had married a woman named Monica. My mom grabbed it, and handed it to me, and then my dad just stood there not quite knowing what to do. Now bear in mind, that my mother initiated a divorce, years back in the late sixties; on the grounds of desertion. There is a lot to discuss about all of this, and many enemies in the 'WOMO', know a lot as well, as does the Fisher family of treasure salvers, right here in the Saint Lucie County's world famous Treasure Coast. I will tell a lot more about this, and other pillow talk that proves my dad, along with his great Princeton Park pal, the one and only Albert Einstein, a long time ago during the great World War 2; also interconnected this mind blowing family of mysterious dreams, washcloths, intrigue, and disaster. The story has not yet unfolded to its final conclusion, yet I will tell it as it continues to go down. And why will I do this, oh great Swami of Egg Harbor City, Terry Scatterbrain Glasseshater? Well, because, as with Mount Everest, it's there; only unlike the mountain and many other fantastically named mountains far away; it needs to become known about by the waking world, and without my telling it, the great 'Sanitation Ops' will prevail. For now, ET.













WHAAAAAAAAA

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