MORIANITY PART 6, CHAPTER 13

*MORIANITY PART 6*

*****CHAPTER 13*****

2:38 POST MERIDIAN, 2 OCTOBER, 2013

This will be a very short blog, telling just what I wish to tell, and no fat on the bone at all will be there, it was all given to the hungry dogs.

First, the asshole that brings me the ROACHES is back the last 3 weeks after being away for a few weeks. Roaches are bad, doors are annoying all days and nights, and only this one dirt bag keeps leaving one unit and going into another unit, over and over. No one else on this west die of the floor number six, does this, not to my knowledge. The noisy uncaring bastard is one thing, but having him flooding my unit with pests each time he comes back; that's an entirely different matter, ONE FOR THE FLORIDA BOARD OF HEALTH AUTHORITIES and some other folks I'll be writing to as well.

The entire world has altered so much in the past 20 years, you can laugh all you want, but this is not even the same world that was here back then. I am not saying that the old one was beamed to another galaxy, and this fake job was sent here, but I AM SAYING, it may as well be AS IF THIS HAD BEEN WHAT HAPPENED. Re-read that last sentence 23 times if you need to, in order to get what I am saying. I don't believe any way out wild thing happened, but the folks, what did in fact altered the course of this world so immensely and so quickly, way off of the averaged 20 year time blocks that would precede this most current one, say 1993-2013, as opposed to say the 4 before this one, such as, 1973-1993, 1953-1973, and 1933-1953. When I was living as a female Native American in a tribe along the southern shores of the Delaware river and towards the Great Shellfish Hendershodt Bay, AKA the Chesapeake Bay; it took 1000 years to make the changes that are made now in 20, maybe even more. This was less than 400 years ago, when I lived my short Me-THEN life as a female squaw, and was shot to death wrongfully by a friend of my fiance', who believed that I was romantically cheating on him. When I found myself living as Benjamin Franklin, after the life and blood drained out of my frail four foot eight inch 75 pound 22 year old body on that tiny canoe on that autumn lovely afternoon with so much gorgeous foliage all over the river shores; I began to know I was a small boy, big for my ager, about seven or so in age, and was dreaming many times of my past life, and not knowing yet that it was me before, and then by about just past my eighth birthday, I totally remembered that this was not a dream the way folks would think of a dream, but memories. Memories of a life before the one you currently are in, can indeed come in a dream, and if it comes repeatedly and in serial fashion where more is added like a soap drama TV show of today; it actually is another YOU-SELF, a doppelganger that you are passively interacting inside of as a TYPE-1-EXPLORATRON traveler, or (normal-dreamer), and the hyperspace is very localized atomically, so that practically the same events are taking place; and thereby any differences would be as minute as perhaps a striped tablecloth on your dinner table, as opposed to a plain one; and along these lines. In neither of these lives, the squaw or Franklin, did I personally know or remember consciously as I lived out these waking lives (hyperspace-dreams), that I was Rick as well as Zeranniss, and was very special to the great Almighty Goddess, the Lordess, Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle. Even though I was fascinated with electricity as Franklin, it was not until I laid on my death bed that she appeared at the foot of my bed early in the morning, telling me this would be the day that I wake up and go into a room in the sun. She forgot to mention that if we are insisting on a linear time order, we cannot skip my life as Adolph Hitler, as well as the life in-between Franklin and Hitler, that we may or may not get into this year, on my blogs.

Now because things every twenty years, in block-time, are moving faster and faster in a rate of change, known mathematically as the ''delta''; this one situation of truth is creating a serious problem for me here in these most current times of my present perspective within conscious waking world illusion, or the ''here and the now''. Some things built inside of this 20-year time block situation, are for my good, while much of it is indeed working all toward my detriment. The PC, not the computer, but the way the entire world is, (political correctness) was all set up so that I would not last anywhere as long as I have, and the enemy, the WOMO made heavy book on this, and made powerful mover and shaker alterations, late in the twentieth century. They did not begin to realize just how totally 'kimelian', and adaptive, and resilient; I can be; when my back is the most pressed to the wall, as is possible. Spell Checker as always, totally fucking sucks. I don't know the proper way to spell the name of the stealthy color changing lizard; and I have attempted five different possible ways of spelling it, all wrong; so I know it is misspelled, Ed Lynch. Live with it, YO. Every day, I am getting shit attacks, very sore throats, wheezing and coughing, and numerous queasy weakness feelings; from the sky poisons, mostly not visible, but there all the same. I demand an autopsy, and I demand a full investigation, my blog is to be fully examined with a fucking OPEN MIND, and my body is to be matched to my claims that the Morianity story of total truth, so tells, on this dam internet. But back to the un-spellable dam lizards, and so on. The WOMO fully believed that they could finish me off with this PC thing for two reasons, and I simply adapted, and put away the things from days gone by, and did a real 1-2-3, © Office, as well as came quickly to the full realization of just what the deep sinister evil plot was with all of this, and making my mother beyond impossible to live with, causing what would result in domestic disputes and eruptions eventually, that no one would be able to endlessly hold back, and this set up was to get me jailed into their system, and under their power, forever. It didn't work, and I had to really hold on tight for dear life but I made it, and yes, ''it's now my time to be'', US Copyright Examiners, and so much dam ass more, too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I asked the GAWNUM four times, why the September siege was so bad, and every ding,e draw of the random cards while thinking hard on this question, resulted in the very same two draw, first the 3, then the 4, for the Root-Gawnum-341. The odds of randomly just picking out of 9 numbered cards, those two in that order once, is 81:1, but 4 times in a weeks time, well, that is 81 to the fourth power. You do th math. It is over 43 million to one, against this just randomly occurring. Yet the match list items tell a strange incomplete story, and so I am searching out many possible items that begin with the Gawnum-Root or GR 4, as once I get a big pile of anything that could remotely be why this all went down for me this September, I can weed out the 8 out of 9 items that do not produce the second RG digit of 4. Yes one is an obvious one, more history of MC and me, that we most certainly are not touching today; and some others that are on my 'private-list'. But the two that I have published and the private list as well, is not telling me anything yet that I need to know, so I need to keep persevering with new potential words and sentence descriptions that could possibly apply to the situation, and this could take a long time.

I am going to be asking the Gawnum who and or what exactly injured my health recently, as this was not yet queried of the system. I want to come out and tell you what happened about 4 nights ago, don't ask the exact time, it was scary and unplesant and I just wanted to forget it, but I feel compelled for sake of morianity to muster up some fucking courage, and tell you all about this powerful dream that awakened me around ten at night, shortly after going to bed early on that particular day, a rare event for me, but as I said, lately, I have been feeling as crumby as a smashed box of cookies. Suddenly, I was in where else but ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USAESMWG; and near what else but an on-ramp near the boardwalk. It was to the south of Tennessee Avenue in mid town somewhere, and Frank Sinatra Senior was waiting for me on the street as I exited a vehicle that I have no waking memory of driving, so I could have been, or, it may have had another person driving it. When I got out, no one was around, yet the weather was pleasant, it was evening, almost dark, already past sunset, yet with a small remaining memory of small sparks of distant daylight fading at the horizon. He had a recording machine with him and was holding onto it and singing his big hit song, ''A Summer wind''. After it was done, he showed me that he did not have to sing it, he could have just spoken or sung a few of the words, and the machine software was then able to extract a pattern of the exact way that he sings, as many complicated systems go into play when you attempt to have a machine sing from a sampled source. The best stuff out there today falls short of the mark, sounding robotic an mechanical, as well as until a much lengthier program is written that tells the system not to just pitch a word spoken or even a singing part, but to analyze the entire vocalist, and then from a much more detailed and complex program, the machine becomes able to do more than just pitch words into notes. Without this improvement, this great new technology is still sandbox ameturish, as there is no real way to put talent into the extraction. When the parts of the music are closest to the pitch of the vocalist's normal ranges, it sounds the most like their real and true voice, but as you go anywhere outside this Goldilocks pitch range of maybe 4 notes up or down, the more off, the more it is just a spoken voice on a wrong key, sounding almost nothing like the vocalist. He had told me he and his friends had completed this program that I was working on, and am even here where I am now typing this message onto my blogs. He showed me how three stages of the program were all dramatic improvements, until the third version was ear-impossible to distinguish between him and the machine, doing that great song, ''a summer wind''. I awakened in a cold sweat boiling hot despite being in a nice dark cool room. The realness of the experience in hyperspace was so powerful. Normally old blue Eyes and I do not get along when we meet up in parallel universes, and have even engaged in fist fights, but this time, we had made up, and were working on this project mutually. We were in a legal contract to split our invention 50-50, and some music store chain wanted to buy us outright, and he was telling me not to, that we needed to keep a percentage of their operation. Everything in programming is just the long tedious process of writing tons of software, but with a big enough computer and this software mission accomplished, all the discs can indeed be made to fit into 3 or 4 or maybe 5 inserts on the keyboard, and literally, all possible sound can be created and recorded digitally, as all standard keyboards already do the second part of that and have been doing for many years.

Getting away from music now, when I was in the Walmart Store the other day, a lot of gorgeous young aggressive pussy was staring abnd chasing me, and as usual, I just ignored them all, and only had buying my microwave oven on my tiny little pathetic mind. Still, when pussy is all over me, the aerial attacks are never far behind, and sure enough, I did not get a mile away from the store and POW, there it was. This has been going on for 20 mother fucking years. I only know it is real and not imagined. I have n o idea why, or any details regarding this wild nutty phenomenon whatsoever. I simply go on reporting the news around me, I DO NOT CREATE ANY OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!