Thursday, January 9, 2014

MORIANITY PART 7, CHAPTER 0025
















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JANUARY 9, 2014,

THURSDAY EVENING, AT 9:25,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA

CURRENT TEMPERATURE 72 DEGREES FNHT.


















LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, you are reading: MORIANITY PART VII, CHAPTER XXV

























WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, LET ME SHRINK HALF A FOOT OR SO, AND THEN GO WASH UP, DAVIDRUGS.





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my pic photo MohrMark.jpg


WELCOME TO THE MORIANITY FOUNDATION, GOOD FOLKS. Anyone can join, and the price is FREE.




Here is a little bio information about the Head-Morian, as requested by the original blog website that I joined in 2006 to begin my blogs and the Morianity-Project:




NOW WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD WANT TO JOIN???



http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/






























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My blogs



About me


Gender
Male
Industry
Occupation
Location
Hammonton, New Jersey, United States
Introduction
Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with awareness.
Interests
Favorite Movies
Favorite Music
Favorite Books

You forgot your mom's birthday! What can you make out of super glue and olive pits?

An angry mother. Also, a little philosophy for you is as follows:

At the risk of sounding negative, the only thing one may be truly sure of, is that you cannot be sure of anything.







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PLEASE HELP ME, MIZZ BONDI, MY WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE ENEMIES ARE GOING TO KILL ME, THIS IS NOT A JOKE OR A HOAX, MY SEVEN YEARS OF BLOGS CONTAIN INDISPUTABLE MIRACLES THAT PROVE MY WORDS STAND TRUE AND HONEST, MAHM.







THANK YOU FOR DOING WHATEVER YOU CAN FOR ME, RON WIRTZ AT THE CCP OFFICE IN NEW JERSEY WASTED YEARS OF MY TIME AND MADE ME A LOT OF EMPTY PROMISES. MAYBE YOU WILL BE ABLE TO HELP ME TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF ALL OF THIS, MAYBE NOT. I HAVE PEOPLE AGAINST ME THAT ARE NOT COMPLETELY HUMAN, AND I EVEN HAD EVIDENCE ONCE WHERE A MAN WITH A REAL ESTATE LICENSE TOLD ME THIS WAS ALL TRUE AND HAPPENING TO ME BACK IN 1988, A MAN NAMED SCOTT RANSOM OF TODD REALITY BACK IN 1988, IN NEW JERSEY.







THANK YOU IN ADVANCE FOR ANYTHING YOU MAY BE ABLE TO FIND OUT AND HELP ME WITH, I AM NOT THE BAD GUY HERE, THEY ARE, AND HAVE DONE DISPICABLE AND INHUMAN EVIL THINGS TO ME SINCE THE EIGHTIES. THEY ARE TORTURING ME, THIS IS WORSE THAN BEING MURDERED, BECAUSE PEOPLE CAN ONLY KILL YOU ONCE, MIZZ ATTORNEY GENERAL, WHEREAS WITH ME, THEY GO ON PUTTING ME THROUGH A NEVER ENDING HELLFIRE THAT IS UNSPEAKABLE.







I GO BY THE BLOG NAME OF MOUNTAINPEN, A.G. BONDI, AND AM ON BLOGGER DOT COM. MY MUSIC ALSO TELLS MY LIFE STORY, A TINY BIT OF IT IS ON THE YOUTUBE CHANNEL paulaking2011, AND A LOT MORE OF IT IS COPYRIGHTED IN THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS UNDER MARK WAYNE MOHR, BORN 12/04/1954. I KNOW YOU WILL DO THE RIGHT THING HERE, MIZZ BONDI. AGAIN, THANK YOU.



















Folks, a fucking retarded moron can see what is going on if they have been reading and following my blogs and this MORIANITY for any length of time. I* did not say it makes sense, although it does to the forces doing this shit to me all these cunt eating years quite obviously, as why else would they be doing it? But anyone can see this is now TWO AUGUST'S, ONE IN 2013 AND ANOTHER ONE IN 1986, involving not only music but a particular connection through it. Long ago on the shores over Sicily, folks named this goddess, SCYLLA. When I went into a self-induced trance at the Cifaloglio guarding job late one night or really very early on a Sunday morning when and where nobody was anywhere around, to see the original way that in 1980, the song was sung to me by this SCYLLA GODDESS on the first week in June, while I lay physically asleep in my bed at 1802 Robin Hill Apartments, in Voorhees, New Jersey; as originally, I only remembered the line about ''Love is for carpenters, and the ending part that never made it into the original song done in 1980 about when I get home and see her on TV, making as much sense to me then in 1980, as a hamburger without the hamburger. Mashell Daniels and Dawn-Marie King would accuse me of being a ''smart-ass'' here, but I am being anything but, folks. You can wrap this up in the American flag, and take it straight to the TD Bank of Toronto, and give Mizz Rippa a big fat ass kiss on the mouth for me while there, Regis; and yes; stay away from this family and that radio station of theirs, if you want to remain healthy old pal, as they sure ended my mother fucking life as I knew it, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





Last year we began exploring in a deeper and more 'moaningful way', Professor Kaku old pal and others out here; the varying factions of the ESS, or the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I had totally planned by this time in early twenty-fourteen to have taken this way further, and the WOMO-MILI-2-FAWCES knew this quite well. To avoid me doing this and lots of things that they knew I was planning on doing such as that law suit and other shit all discussed back in the second half of last fucking cunt year good peeps; THEY POURED ON A MONSTER HYPERTIME DEATH SIEGE ON ME, as a major successful fucking distraction, and whopper plumber JOE, it worked!!!!!!!!!









What I am going to get into soon folks, is a comparison chart of how things were going from New Years Day just over a year ago in 2013, up through the 27 day in August, and then from 28 August of 2013, right up to the present day in 2014. This is when I added some techno-pop vocal talent into the harmony track on the 1983 re-written tune owned legally by me and 100% legally copyrighted in all of its forms, ''YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All that I did was take the last word ''OVER'' in its two syllables, and square wave it to a greater match to the sourced intro sampling itself, and then re-pitch it to go to six harmonic notes, and layer the entire thing four times with slightly lower and higher volumes mixed in as well as slightly more distance perceptions, and then layer the entire harmony 4 word part, and then brighten it with extreme bias, so when it is mixed into the normal sonic blend again, it is not mechanical sounding, nor is it excessively bright, but perfectly blended for realism, and done just the way my daughter used to love to do her great stuff in the nineties. I know they hear through the headphone somehow, whoever THEY are, because ever since I did this, back on the 28 August day last fucking summer, my magnetic attack of botbar days went from mildly annoying as hell, to off the fucking scale monstrously inconceivable, just as it all began back in late 1986 and into 1987 when this shit did a Sabrina Collins, and all began. Looking back at all my shit over at Bonjovi's place when this was all originally worked on; I can see the entire thing now for what it all was. They tried to give me crappy product and were not trying to help me one bit, to get my story out. They in other wirds, WERE IN ON IT WITH EVERYONE ELSE, AS SOON AS I MADE CONTACT WITH THEM AND BEGAN WORKING ON MY MUSICAL PROJECTS THERE. Even my old ex-bizz partner Paul Pedersen, said, ''the work is shotty for a professional studio'', and sounds more like, and I quote him, so sue him and not me if you want to; ''a glorified Casio production''. I WILL AGREE. I asked over and over for them to do things differently, and they said they will, they will, they will, and they wouldn't. Talk is cheap. The letters are spaced three apart on the top alpha-row on all keyboards, the 'W' and the 'T', but wow what a difference these letters make when the letters of ALK follow them. Anyone can talk. I have yet to find anyone who can WALK!!!!!!!!!!!



This fucking goddess and this problem with music does not go back to 2013, 1997, 1980, 1966, 1954, or 1800. It goes all the way back to a powerful situation where I was standing on one side of a fence about a meter high, made of a lovely colored wood of some type. There was a path on my side where I was, and a path on the other side, but over there, it was about seven yards from this fence where my path was right along the fence-line. Beyond the path on the other side from me was a structure about 50 yards to my left and up a small incline. It was cottage-like in appearance, and was of a lovely subtle color. Suddenly, Scylla began walking out of this cottage down a little lane that led to the path that was on her side of the fence-line. When she came to approximately where I was n the other side, I starred at her. She is more beautiful than five million top Manhattan fashion models if you could literally force them all together into one unfathomable woman. She was in her middle late twenties, and not usually the way she came to me in ''visions'' in other times in my current lifetime or dream-downs off of the Astral-Plane, as usually she appears at the age she really eternally exists at, sixteen years to the day, and it always her birthday. It was the year 1997, and I was sound asleep in bed in my home at Harvard and Yale Avenues at 112 Harvard, in Somerdale, New Jersey. This was somewhere late in the summer time, and about four months before my mother was suddenly struck down at 4 or 5 in the morning with an unknown medical catastrophe that no medical expert in any field ever could get to the bottom of, the day after Christmas of that 1997 year. She said hello to me and I knew we had always known each other, forever and ever and ever, there was no time when we did not. She blurted out to me that she was going to end the world, quote end of quote. I was shocked and appalled, and begged her not to. She looked at me for a minute with those huge lovely brown eyes of here, chocolate brown, with her long hair dangling down from her head at 6'7'', down to past her knees, and she replied to me, and I quote this verbatim, ''BECAUSE YOU LOVED DIANA, I WILL SPARE THE WORLD FOR A WHILE''. Then she was just gone, and then I suddenly just, ''WOKE UP''. This of course stayed with me huge mother fucking time ever since. Why did she put my love for Diana in a past-tense, and why did she care whether I loved Diana, I wondered so hard for so many years. Of course now, I have all the answers, maybe, the fucking gods, and goddesses, I WISH THAT I DID NOT, Mister President Obama, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tell that to the fucking National Security Agency for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!





If anyone out here thinks you have figured out anything here, don't god dam fool yourself, YO. Even I am light mother fucking years from figuring out the great SARAH-STACEY JUPITER ISIS KRASSLE (SSJKK-PIMC)!!!!!!!! Relax Aunt Geraldine and Cuzz Donald!









THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
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