MORIANITY
PART FIVE, CHAPTER 00159
7:58
AM-EDST, TUESDAY, 13 AUGUST,
2013
A
lot of shit is happening, both in real time, as well as inside of my
own self. I have come to remember a few things that I've been
suppressing for a very long time.
I
was awakened to a very sore throat a little while ago and along with
this, began to uncover some powerful memories about Roseann Delaney.
But that can wait for right now. She is the reason that I tried to
hatch a plan to construct something that I labeled as 'Timeless
Satellite' right shortly after my first encounter with this extremely
beautiful teenaged girl, right around my age at least in appearance,
and again, Jim Rockford, we can back around to all of this later on
as it does indeed fit quite perfectly into all of that is going on
both now and for decades of time as well, but I'm moving this on for
now and we will come back t all of these topics.
The
majority of my audience has left me. I was getting an average of 130
daily page hits for much of this year of 2013, up until the summer
time came in, when it started to suddenly slow down and down and
down, and right at a time where I am able to tie stuff together and
prove all of the claims made all these years now in my Morianity.
Also, my asshole nabes slammed in late, after 11, but were quiet
after that, and now this morning, a few doors are banging out over
the past twenty minutes from now, give or take, at 8:10 this morning.
I'll get days of totally one thing and then days of totally another
thing around here, there is absolutely no way to predict or get any
kind of a handle on the activities that go on around this crapper
hole, passing for a life dwelling. So, my computer is about to get
packed up and stored along the wall with much of my other stuff, and
I will just be taking off into the night and vanishing out of view
with nobody the wiser, at least around here. It will all go down when
all of you, here and there, least expect it. I will not tell any of
my plans, as it only serves to weaken my position with my
WOMO-MILITUFORCE
ENEMIES.
What
I will say is that the answer to all my searching for truth about so
many things all of my adult life now, and especially since my
mid-life began at around age forty; was as most powerful things
always are; right in front of the nose on my face. It has always been
around the great one and only Irish teenaged love of my life, ROSEANN
DELANEY. All her type, and we certainly are not speaking of national
origin here folks, in legend anyway, have this strange and peculiar
power, to make other peeps forget things. I, unlike any or at least
the great majority of any of you, have not received my information
second hand, I was right there. But since peeps do not understand,
nor can they seemingly reach an enlightened enough point so as to
properly believe in, the truths of exploratronics and hyperspace;
would instantly ask me such things as, I thought Paula king rang your
doorbell in the daytime. She did. That does not mean, Roseann
Delaney, dead and asleep to the world, cannot be inside of her and in
a domination mode as opposed to a recessant mode of dream-control.
Even 'this type' entity, has exploratronic capabilities, perhaps,
their abilities are tuned far greater and higher than those unlike
themselves. So if I say that an exploratron traveler did such and
such, the actual physical person may be anyone from Joe doe to Jane
Payne to Mark Bark to Joan Bone. They are not even aware for the most
part that they are doing something. Ed Lynch and myself certainly
were not aware that Bob McGuire was standing right outside our
automobile, that he had crossed over Tennessee Avenue from the north
side over to the south side where his hotel and bar was back in 2006,
and had approached my automobile at the side where Ed was sitting,
the front passenger's seat. We never ever knew that he was there, our
memories had been blotted out entirely. Yet we had been photographing
the area that day for the website called morianity-foundation, and
when we went to get the CD print out of those photos, at the Eckert
Pharmacy in Berlin, New Jersey a short time later, and examined them,
there he was, just as plain as day, that look of Irish anger in his
face, his fists all clinched up in fight mode, yet for what reason,
as we could not even see him there. He knew our photographs would
reveal all of this, and obviously this was another THAT-FAMILY tactic
of scaring us off, with this wild esoteric parlor trick, only one in
the family bag of so many. Roseann is family also. The Delaney
branch has two possible close-in relations to the cousins of a cousin
in the family of actress Maria Shriver, family through marriage,
which a lot of these peeps are, and no ancestry dot com is going to
ever know all these details, only the great Mormon Church has all of
these secrets, and only if you personally are pals with Elder Hair,
will you stand a prayer of learning all of these things.
Now
for an opening about Roseann Delaney. I met her in 1967, at the very
next week, after a lot of her friends from Atlantic City, all decided
to gang rape me. I was only twelve and a half years of age, and old
enough to appreciate that these were ravishing lovely teenaged girls
of about the age of sixteen, back in late June in 1967, and had
become friends of my first cousin, Sandy. This is the real hurricane
that blew my life into the hellish situation that it later all
became, and was every bit as destructive. Also, my cousin Sandy was
only there at the great Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, because
her mother insisted that her sister in law who was my mother, take
her along with us that one time out of the eight times that we
vacationed there, from the summers of 1965 and 1968 inclusive, twice
per season. There were 4 prior stays and 3 after stays, from this one
time with cousin Sandy. She had a boyfriend named David at the time,
right before she met her later to follow fiance' and husband of the
future, named Timothy Letterman. Also, her mother, my aunt Geraldine
Snow Mason, was personal friends with the Shah of Iran at the time
back in 1967, very good friends, may I add. For reasons way to
complicated to even try getting into on any one blog, I came to learn
in the 21st century, that all of this was part of a global
plot to plant me smack dab in the middle of this family, way back
then, so that many monstrous things could then happen. I don't trust
any of these dam lizards, but hay, I could be wrong, and maybe there
is indeed some great and wonderful outcome that sprouts out of all of
this someday, and I am just to limited in my horizon vantage point to
see it, unlike the Almighty Goddess, SSJK.
All
I can say for sure right now, are a few simple facts. My life is on
some wild course that all the power in the world seems unable to
interrupt. Also, it is physically impossible for me to ever take a
clear photo and in its entirety, of the magical home at 30 South
Plaza Place, in south Atlantic City, New Jersey; and that there are
members in this wild family who have the power to totally wipe out
your memories of recent events about them or things that they may
have just done to you or told you, as this has happened to both me
and others with me, on numerous occasions.
In
my opinion, Roseann Delaney is the one who has done all of this to
me, and even peeps like my daughter and others close within my family
and her family, may have had their memories all blotted out, or at
least scrambled in various amounts and degrees. As for my rape in the
hotel while my cousin acted as the lookout and my mother was up on
the boardwalk getting them all some drinks at the salt water taffy
place known as Frailenger's, it was half past nine at night around
the 27th of June of 1967, and all that Roseann would have
had to do, was to influence these girls to all do this to me, from
some place nearby, possibly right there at the Trinidad Hotel
(Trinity) if this had all taken place in South America. I realize
that lots of events seem jumbled and ridiculous, but the entire truth
would take me a million long pages to write in some kind of a perfect
order, so don't expect that any time soon, good folks. I have not
heard this many early morning slamming fucking doors now for ages.
Between this and the terrible throat attack, I know I am under a real
problem here, AG of Florida, mahm, Mizz Bondi.
Also,
my Channel-12-Weather-Bug has been totally hacked now for a week. The
camera shot is stuck at one time and location, and the weather map
never shows any color-key conditions, and the lightning position
system appears down as well, FCC, BOB MCDOWELL, sir, and old pal from
1972. For those who are fans of the Chris Bennett/Chester Perkowski
Comic-Hero World of so-called fiction characters even including those
supernatural beings, many do exist, and I realize that, Roseann being
definitely one of them, yes this is true, despite the poo-pooing of
Sally Starr and her friend the professor back in freaking 1998. How
we both were wrecked and ruined for messing with any of these
powerful Scott Ransom people back in that time, some ten years after
the comment made to me indeed, by the illustrious Mister Scott Ransom
about my powerful angry enemies, the 'Disgruntled Ones', the day that
I bugged up my automobile and got him talking about him and his boss
Kelly Jackson, of Jackson and Jackson Realty. Originally in 1983,
Kelly was employed as a real estate agent at the offices of Dixon and
Dixon. The reason they are disgruntled is because I made a stink
about Marcy Levy and Robin Gibb ripping off my music arrangement on a
1980 song I had written called, ''LOST LOVE''. They even got the
Copyright Office in on their little scam somehow, changing the date
from 1980 to 1980 on my stuff that I sent down there as one package
and one musical project. You all have seen the paste in of my
copyrights page. No need for posting it again now. Rapping this up,
the Delaney types, do not bite outside on the neck, and the one time
my lovely Roseann did this to me on the night of the fourth of June,
Wednesday, back in 1969, outside my apartment on Pyle Avenue without
any space journeys or saluting going on in the mix of all this
horrendous garbage; this was just a big 'hickey', no not a hockey,
nor were the Philly Flyers involved, although folks, the Jersey
Devils used to practice just out beyond this area that is being
discussed, and then moved up north into the Meadowland-Area, and the
newly formed Flyers came over to us; but more importantly, maiden
names and symbolism, tell me that Yogi Berra said it better than all
of us, ''Some things are too coincidental to be a coincidence''. Now
you see why I needed to be stopped and blocked and sanctioned or said
differently, ''made to go anti-viral'', by the World Owners, on my
Youtube Account. Still, an interesting PCN for MY
YOUTUBE MUSIC, right, number 550, as in 'December-2009',
as well as 'Mark Mohr escapes Dawn King', and yes; many many many
others, lovely Ingrid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes
this was one big painful bite in the neck, but that was all it was.
When Mizz Delaney wants to really do her thing, to put it sixties
style; she is like a lizard. You get this lovely wonderful awesome
French-kiss. Then when her tongue is in the back of your throat, like
jelly fish, she has a special tongue that sucks blood right out of
your capillaries that are all over that deep area in the throat. You
have no memory of it or very little, and also, she has been doing all
of this all of this time, and is why this all happened in 1969 first,
then later on when she came to me in 1983 one night while I was
watching a movie in my living room about some kids trying to make a
recording of a song they had written, calling it a real monster tune,
I remember that night with full clarity, despite this being over
thirty years ago; only I do not remember anything other than a hazy
quick appearance of Roseann while my mom went to the toilet to help
stink up the Septic plant, just long enough to take care of bizz.
Only this attack left me damaged forever, in more ways than one, and
only one doctor and one great lab technician know, but will never
tell. A child can see what all the implications would be for finking
on this just to help pathetic little me out. So of course, that will
never happen. Yeah, I don't know either, great wonderful Lab
Technician Scylla. Oh my poor poor pitiful lymph glands, from here to
Lake Champlain, Louisiana, huh Katrina. Yes, they have built their
own Magnesonic and totally stopped all my lovely great storms!
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