THE
2013 CHRISTMAS COMPILATION BLOG, A MUST READ.
***''THE
FASCITAR, THE JACOBSON, THE DONALD; AND THE WORLD OF THE
ELECTROMAGNETIC SPECTRUM''***
DECEMBER
25, 2013,
EARLY
WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON AT 12:24
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 73 DEGREES FNHT.
TITLE
OF THIS SERIES OF BLOGS:-------
“THE
MAGIC TOOL THAT CAN PREDICT DOW JONES
PRICES WITH 80%+ ACCURACY, ENDLESSLY, AND IS MY
PERSECUTION, IN THE UNITED STATES; SINCE THIS BEGAN
IN 1986”
In
blogs I have done over the past eight years now; quite a small feet
if I may say so myself, good folks; I have discussed the FASCITAR,
and told a small bit of this ancient ultra secret set of paranormal
instructions, for proving to anyone; that atheists are all wrong
about nothing being ''beyond'' this so called waking and mortal life.
I do not make this judgment call, so don't come at me with sticks and
stones and knives and guns, please. The Fascitar makes this claim,
and then goes on to verify its claim, to anyone who has the fucking
balls to properly use it, and thus see it all for themselves. I do
not plan on rehashing any of these instructions or even reiterating
what it is all about, not here on this blog, as that is not a part of
the point that this writing will be trying to make. All I want said
about it is that is more secret than anything else kept and called a
secret, and that if released into the general population, it would be
a matter of only a short space of time, that all of humankind and its
organized power structure large religions, would dissolve away and be
exposed for the total frauds they are, in a nutshell, being there to
give hope to those who fear death and hell, the hell part created by
them to generate that fear, and other things time prevents me from
detailing on this particular writing. But it is all there, if anyone
should have the desire and the time, to archive my blogs that show
up, these current ones, and then on this current one, on many of
these blogs, I show the BIO-PAGE, where you can click next to any of
five bullets that name my five original blogs, on BLOGGER DOT COM,
beginning in January of 2006. This appears right next to a normally
larger font made by me, area, saying' ''MY
BLOGS''. Now we move this along to part two of four which is
the JACOBSON, and also known in
my blog texts and writings since the near beginning of them, as SARAH
JACOBSON; from the New Jersey Rehab System
of Camden, New Jersey, and who attended the REHAB CLASS,
in the same special education school that I went to, on Hopkins Lane,
in Haddonfield, New Jersey; back as the nineteen-seventies began to
come into the scene, replacing the love/hate sixties' truly known in
all of its mysterious numerous ways, by only those who were there to
live and experience these wild times.
Sarah
Jacobson was not an ordinary girl by any stretch of anybody's
imagination. She was extremely lovely with long dark hair, extremely
tall, unfathomably physically strong, the coolest personality in the
world, and seemed to have advance knowledge of future events, as did
some others in this lace just a short while back, coming to mind
first and foremost, is Misses Marola, who knew the way the first ten
years of the following century were going to be pronounced, while
nobody else seemed to, and other stuff is just as suspect as well,
leading me to the conclusion that right after she was suddenly gone,
her replacement as a younger self was immediate, the JACOBSON.
Without boring anyone to tears and back, all the way to Christmas of
twenty-seventeen or so, I'll abridge, compress, and transform what
comes next, into a real short and sweet little ditty of words that
tell what needs to be told, without any of the fat or window
dressing. It will be thinned out to anorexic proportions, but you
will get the connections, if you want to, and if you really are
trying to, good peeps.
Misses
Marola insisted that I do something, not on school time, and where
she did not have the authority to be so ultimately relentless with me
against my will, but did it anyway, and it all led me to be at a
place at a totally different time on May the Thirtieth of 1969, in
Atlantic City, New Jersey, than would have been the case if she had
not forced this issue, and this event, altered the course of my life,
and many many lives around the world to this very day. All
major events that pertain to the story of Mountainpen and morianity,
and MARK WAYNE MOHR, seem to be on and occur on A
LEGAL UNITED STATES HOLIDAY. This goes quite a bit beyond
mere happenstance or coincidence. You may insist on disagreeing with
me, and as I said many times, I am willing to fight and die on any
battlefield in this world, for your right to indeed do so, stupid as
disagreeing with me about all these things possibly being
coincidental, may be.
Now
this was a teacher in this special education school, and she was my
teacher, from early middle February through late into June, back in
1969. Once she did her job, knowing already that my days with Sarah
on Tennessee Avenue were winding down on this last summer of running
into her, somehow, but she knew it, believe that; this is when on the
following spring in 1970, my encounter with the great next paranormal
person to come into my life, indeed happened, the JACOBSON. I am not
at liberty to tell all that I want to here. The world simply is not
ready to accept so much. After all I went through with all of this,
even I am light years away from understanding and appreciating the
full scope of this big-picture story happening all around me and even
still to this very day, so how the devil can I in good conscience
expect anyone else to GET IT?
Still,
SHE HAPPENED, and it was very major. She did things to me both while
I was awake and asleep, that both Sarah from Tennessee Avenue did to
me, and way up in my adult life, her newest persona has done,
beginning in 1997 and then going on a lull for a while until a full
11 years ticked by past then. Only so much more connects all of this
that volume sized encyclopedias would never contain it in proper
elucidated details that would not leave any kind of blanks or skips
in this awesome and inconceivable story. Now, and since 1980, I no
longer have one paranormal, but two paranormal ''people'' that mess
with me, when the mood strikes them, despite my recent best attempts
to distance myself totally away from them. And the coincidental thing
pops right up again, as when I get the next phase or 3 of 4, the
TRUMP, he does the very same
thing, by stuff he did and bought, that made the few things I used to
enjoy in my rotten life, all turn into total pig crap at the speed of
light, such as buying up all the pageants of beauty queens, and along
these lines, and there are many others, way too numerous to get into,
on this text here today. On top of these interconnecting items that
few have the psychic energy or PERCEPTION
to properly even begin to see, or 'spiritually
visualize' so to speak; is the way an entire life can be seen
if you stand back away from it as a totally neutral observing
outsider; and watch what I jokingly now call, ''HALLS FAWCES'',
working through an entire huge operation, that makes things all
happen, no matter how incredibly hard one might try and fight against
it, it is exactly like swimming against a rip tide on steroids, and
being four years old, and who had just been taught to swim a day or
two ago.
Now
speaking of invader Phase-4 entity TRUMP, not the brain or body; but
the 'HIM' that is inside of it, that no surgeon could ever cut open,
and then so much as hope to witness or observe or measure in any
meaningful way, not yet with today's teck, right Professor
SCI-CH-KAKU?, but yes, speaking of this wild dude who influenced me
to create him on a 1980 open reel semi-pro mastering machine called
the RS-1500-US tape recording machine, where would I even think of
starting? I could type for a year, and not tell it all, so why even
begin such a futile time wasting energy wasting endeavor? I won't.
BUTT, it is time to draw the connecting FAWCES of mister Hall, into
these three items, FASCITAR, JACOBSON, TRUMP. This item is called the
electromagnetic spectrum. Again, I will shorten a quick lecture about
all of this to get a few of my smarter readers really thinking and
maybe drooling on their shoes; but that is all I can do. It would
take lifetimes to try and explain the life that I have already lived,
and just as me, in three dimensions, as Mark Wayne Mohr. I could give
all of you the accepted scientific explanation first off of just what
really, this mysterious sounding item is all about, the EM spectrum,
but that is for the birds. That won't cut any mustard is so far as my
attempt to connect it up to these other three items, not that
anything will, but old gambler me, as many of you already know;
always plays the odds, or said perhaps somewhat more accurately,
tries to pick and choose the very best odds, in all of life's many
situations.
Yes
there is a line that stretches very far to the left and to the right,
and has a speck in the middle called VL (Visible Light). It is just a
fancy scale that measures how quickly things vibrate. Vibration gives
off heat, more of it gives off light, still more gives off many types
of invisible light rays and waves. But telling you this would get me
an A on a term paper in college, for the best down to Earth and
compressed explanation of this subject, and getting an a in some
hypothetical college, is not what this blog is about by a long shot
and a half, so I'll move on and finish my dissertation. Folks, in the
world of the subatomic where nothing is anywhere near the size of an
atom, the rules that govern the physicality of things also are not
the same as those that govern in post atom sized realities. These
rules, laws, or anything you wish to think of them as, are very real,
and they do not bend and are indeed inviolate. Nobody breaks the laws
of anything, from all the basic engineering principles, to
hydrodynamics to aerodynamics, and on and on, it is not going to
happen. As technology improves, and life appears to be breaking the
laws of physics to some degree here and there, you need to see this
as another one of life's so many great parlor illusions. In truth an
honesty, when things around us advance and improve, it is because the
collective mind has not figured out ways to BREAK the LAWS that
govern our world, but because it has figured out ways to interact
MORE EFFICIENTLY within these laws that govern our world. In a real
nutshell with volumes of potential text removed; all I'm saying my
peeps, is this. This smaller realm of what the men and women of
science call ''sub-atomic', or the ASTRAL PLANE, is a reflectional
image of what this realm then goes onto create. It does this creating
by a process that is quite natural, but not to the scientist. The
entities of this realm, DREAM-DOWN into hyperspace mortal world
existences. They lose energy through numerous interactions, and the
way it is regenerated is to sleep and dream, the very opposite of how
humans on Earth think of their human lives and falling asleep and
dreaming every so many hours when they wear out for the day, and need
a recharge. But coming from this realm, where forces are beyond
mysterious; and where there is no space-time-mind as there is here in
the fifth dimensional hyperspace, of all these many parallel
universes, such as the one we live in right now and I am blogging
this message out to all of you; is the true magic of every single
thing that happens while here and supposedly awake in this mortal
realm on the planet called Earth. All the connections to all the
things in my life, your life, our lives, the whole Mexican 27 foot
Pizza pie; is because of very strange and
spooky forces; to quote the great pal of my dad, sir
Professor Einstein of Princeton university in a place called
Roddenberry New Jersey McNulty Laugh time; and to give you all the
grand finale' here, parallel universes indeed can effect and rub into
each other electromagnetically, and do; every time electrical energy
and humans connect together; but there is no way in these hyperspace
dream-downs, to effect the locale where we dream off of or FROM, the
subatomic reflections of us, AKA the ASTRAL PLANE. If you are looking
for details of just what happened on the Astral plane, that caused
the Briggbase to all get together in an unconscious way and do all
the stuff that they do, or even for me to quickly sum up an
intelligible way for you to understand powerful wild things in my
human current lifetime (dream-down) resulting from Astral-Plane or
subatomic interactions, well; you sadly deluded yourself at the
beginning of my blog. Common sense tells you that I can open doors
and walk you through a million trillion things and endlessly expand
and tell infinitely more stuff, but those looking for a worldly type
of accurate Google-road-map to pop up somewhere, in any way, shape,
or form, is most likely the King or the Queen of the Eternal Optimist
Club of the World (EOCW), and would be loved madly, by the girl who
in 2008, I nicknamed, ''TWINBAY'',
from where else but Egg Harbor Township.
I
will keep telling stuff, there is an infinite supply. Just don't
expect a perfect wonderful Google Map, hell, I could have used one
that day that I took Chicky's dam brothers to the JFK Airport.
****''And
A Rotten Christmas To Us All''****
DECEMBER
24, 2013,
TUESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 2:22
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 64 DEGREES FNHT.
PLEASE
GOOD FOLKS, I REALLY DO THINK THAT YOU SHOULD ALL BE WILLING TO GIVE
ME MY PROPHET PROPS MANY TIMES OVER, OR TO PUT IT LIKE THIS FOLKS;
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
MY
P---R---O---P---S
And
we thank you, Mister Cohan!!!
PLEASE
JUST TELL ME WHY ANYONE THINKS THAT I AM ASKING TOO MUCH
HERE!!!!!!!!!
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SLAM
SLAM SLAM.
FUCKING
TOTAL ASSHOLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HALLS
FAWCES
have everything in the dam
universe to do with everything, in these eight fucking years of my
blogs, EVERYTHING. ''YOU MUST BE IN WITH THE FAWCES'', yeah; I don't
know about your buddy there, Mister Hall, but I know that I sure
mother fucking am; so merry mother fucking Christmas to you, Mister
Hall!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
am damned if I DO, and damned if I DON'T.
This
is the HUNTINGTON-CURSE!!!
I
HAVE BEEN DEATHLY FUCKED WITH BY THESE MONSTERS.
Need
I say anything more, Mister CV George Straight?
Why
did I begin playing with voices and tape recorders, and how does Bob
McDowell and Bruce Pennock fit into all of it; and how does another
powerful truth totally surround this wild circle, whose name was, and
is; Sarah Jacobson? Well, this began in the autumn of
1972!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001148157
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1988
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Mohr,
Mark Wayne, 1954-
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PAu001189027
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1989
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AS I SAID
TO YOU ON THE TELEPHONE IN APRIL OR MAY SOMEWHERE IN TWENTY ELEVEN,
LEE BAILEY; 'YOU DON'T KNOW ME', AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCKING TOILET
WATER DRINKING SHIT, HOW MANY EXTENTION PHONES YOU ALL ARE ON; SO PUT
THAT IN YOUR HOLIDAY FUCKING SHOES!!!!!!!!
2:00
PM CHRISTMAS-HELL-EVE-DAY
24
DECEMBER, 2013, A YEAR OF FUCKING HELL!!!
OR
WAS IT, UNTIL THE FINAL THIRD OF IT BEGAN?
Roseann,
I should have shot you in the woods and left both you and all those
electronics just rotting away forever. This all cost me more than a
throat bite out, and lots of Marcucci stare downs, or daughter stair
ups!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU,
I TOLD YOU, I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU!!!!!
SO
JUST EXACTLY WHY DID AUGUST 28, 2013, START ALL THIS FUCKING SHIT?
YOU ALL KNOW, DON'T INSULT MY INTELLIGENCE BY PLAYING BRAIN DEAD!!!
LET
ME COMPENSATE FOR JANE WEEDSLEAZEDISEASE:
55555555555555555555555555555
JUST
TO KEEP LENNY HAPPY, AND WHY I CARE IS BEYOND MY MENTAL ABILITY TO
GRASP; THIS IS MY CB-601, CCB. SO BEFORE YOU SAY WHAT THE FUCK IS
THIS ALL ABOUT MOUNTAINPEN, LET ME EXPLAIN IT A LITTLE BETTER, MY
GREAT PEEPS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
His
friend Miss Chillie
was a cool lady, back when I heard them squawking, on Lenny's CB
radio handle number of ''601'', in 1981 somewhere thereabout; while I
was on my job on Supergirl
Jefferson Street,
of Camden, New Jersey; 8 or 9 years before I was fucking ever
destined to meet the ADA at the prosecutor's Office, Mister Ron
Wirtz, and his then sidekick, in December of LOIS
FOCA 1989; Mizz Donna Spitnose Spinosi.
But Miss Chillie and his other lady radio-pal of the early eighties,
were quite a bit more in true reality, then what they seemed. I told
him something over this radio that frightened him so badly, I thought
he would shit himself and I'd be soon able to smell it right through
my CB system at the licorice plant called McAndrews & Forbes.
Praise the gods of the subatomic realms, I did not.
Soon
after this, from a home I rented from a man named Gerald Pliner, at
134 Norris Avenue, in Atco, New Jersey, I wrote, recorded, and sent
a song, to the US Copyright Office, and went onto include this small
part of their conversation, edited by the mindless tape recorder of
Philly, me, as the AM disc jockeys all once knew me and some of my
pals as, as we harassed the hell out of them just for the fun of it,
even though, lovely Melanie Many Licenses, GOD LATER GOT ME FOR ALL
OF THIS, just as you told me, hay, at least you didn't break my arm
like lovely giant Gina did in 1997, in my bedroom in Somerdale, New
Jersey Rottenberry. The song told how scared he was, and how he
locked and jammed his gate around his house, with the old GENIE
JAMMER of future Misses Meeker and Gibbsboro, also in NEW JERSEY, or
as Tom Kean might say it so much cooler, New Juersee, but Lenny
deserved my putting the fear of Christ-Almighty into him after a lot
of shit that he had done to me, back in recent prior fucking years.
The thing that I never ever told, and now will tell, as sort of as MY
SNOWLESS CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO THE WORLD,
with or without highview, cheering, or Disney Tooth Fairies; is what
the mighty wonderful self absorbed Rap-Crap music creator said to me
over the telephone, just 2 years or less back in fucking time, while
I resided at 1802 Robin Hill in Voorhees, New Jersey, on a hot bright
1980 mid-late summer day, YO. I will quote this ugly thing this
rotten BMF said to me, I never ever forgot it, US © Office. QUOTE,
YO: ''I
OWN YOU HONKY. YOUR WHITE ASS BELONGS TO ME AND YOU'LL DO WHAT I SAY
FOREVER, AND YOU'LL WRITE SONGS FOR ME FOREVER, AND THERE IS NOWHERE
TO RUN TO AS WE'LL FIND YOUR ASS. ALSO IF YOU EVER DO ANYTHING TO
UPSET ME OR YOU DON'T START GETTING A LOT NICER, NOT ONLY WON'T I
EVER LET YOU MEET PATTY, BUT I WILL TAKE FROM YOU, EVERYTHING YOU
EVER COULD CARE ABOUT OR LOVE''
Now
Trump takes away my pageants, this shit head takes away my happy
network, and my kid; and I am left unbelieved in this wild story,
laughed at and mocked. I think at this exact second, my hatred for
the one place that could have told the correct authorities just what
I was being put through all these mother fucking years, is the god
dam fucking copyright peeps. THEY KNOW. Don't even think about
telling me they don't know. That's a fucking insult I am not willing
to bear. I am not hearing it, Detective Ed Green. Losing a dam job
was only part of it, this goes way fucking deeper, and I know who
really truly Oprah-Owns the BRIGGBASE, and they and my kid got
together and did something so horrible in 2008, I dare not blog the
details. It sprang Dawn from the clinic and her prison sentence
hanging over her head, via the most incredible plan in the world that
Einstein could not have hatched, AND IF I AM SO WRONG, WHY RIGHT
AFTER THAT DID THAT COMMERCIAL GET PULLED OFF OF THE FUCKING
TV????????????????? Give me an almighty answer to that one, JAMES T.
BURR of Gloucester, New Jersey, oh wise oracle and guru, and lover of
dirt-bag whore Connie C!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You
Buddhists out here, I KNOW YOUR BELIEF SYSTEM IS THE ONLY ONE THAT IS
ACCURATE AND TRUE, AND YYYYYYYYY I KNOW IT IS THE HELL I HAVE
SUFFERED THROUGHM, AND IT HAS ZERO-NADA-ZILCH OTHER POSSIBLE EXPLAN
ATION for all being and happening. Only your religion works in all of
this, your and yours alone, so go BUDDHA, and say hi to the great
TRIPLE GODDESS for me, or on second thought, I'm hiding from her now,
so PLEASE DON'T, TANKS, BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
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