JANUARY
20, 2014, DOCTOR M. L. KING DAY, MONDAY MORNING AT 9:57 A.M. AND 61
DEGREES.
PRIVATE
LIFE JOURNAL OF MARK WAYNE MOHR
THIS
IS CHAPTER PIECE AAAQ
Here
is the situation, Inspector Louigee Kent Henderson, and myself, and
anyone else who just may possibly be up here and interested in the
very tiny least little bit. Yesterday afternoon, there was some
continuous door activity ongoing around here for a while, but I got
through it, and watched a movie. Hay it is a weekend holiday, and so,
I am not expecting, to quote my father; 'mausoleum conditions'.
Still, it is all about how people are raised. On the other side of
the tracks which is nowhere near a PC thing to say, and has not been
even before PC, but ask me right about now if I could fucking care in
the least little bit; but the Huntington's raised up their children
with certain basic moral turpitude's and accepted sociological
degrees of politeness. Thinking of the other person was one thing,
and this died right around the time Mike McNulty buried the word
'groovy'. If company showed up unless it was literally some street
beggar or sales-person, radio went off, all was stopped that was
going on, and the focus was turned instantly to the guest. Most
people are giving me blank long stares right about now through
cyberspace, and perhaps with anger on their faces, but there really
was a day, and a better day, when basic non rude behavior was THE
NORM, and not the very rare EXCEPTIONS.
I
yearn for the past days when things were like this, and yes, BETTER.
Argue with me all you want, but you all know that kids could go off
fishing together at age ten in the park. They were not shot at in
school, or in drive-bys. The new world order is new all right, and is
quite awful. Put as politely as possible, a child can see it is
falling completely apart, and even without being old enough to
compare the world of today with the world of yesterday and see the
difference that would make them all go off and cry into their
pillows. All they have is this new technology. And what really does
this do other than to non-normalize everything basic and good.
Instead of being outdoors socializing with neighborhood peeps their
own age, they are making electronic-friends all over the planet with
all sorts of unsavory characters, no matter how hard the parents and
the police try to block it and even impersonate the weirdo pervs to
catch and prosecute them. Safety is more than keeping kids from being
abducted and worse. It is also a mental safety that is involved, and
this new age world in my opinion has literally turned normal young
folks into the weird things that in no time at all will grow up to be
the new generation of very weird techno-adults. Funny, someone like
me who for years and years, thought it so cool to technically make
reality up, way more than any average creator of stories or fiction
or any activity in Hollywood or in the circles of music. With one
little tone, I could bend and shape it into an equaled wave of sound
with any sampled source, and even equalize the created sound into
musically perfectly pitched tones of the twelve semitone octave
scale. Maybe it is not so filled with irony when I say, “gee, me of
all peeps, saying how technology is making the world so abnormal and
so surreal”.
My
simple point to all of the diatribe crap above is that it is hard to
know who to blame any more. Folks are all a combination for the very
most part, of their two parents. Biologically, this is exactly what
they are, half their mom, and half their dad, and no one needs be
back in sixth grad health or sex-ed class to know these very
rudimentary facts of life, I'm quite sure. What the great Kevin
Costner said, in that wonderful 1988 movie, '' Field of Dreams'',
about his being scared that he was turning into his father, I mean
really, how many people after age 40 cannot tell me straight faced,
that they cannot say these same things about one or both of their
parents, relative to their own lives and what they have grown into
over normal time spent living on this Earth? I was around my mom a
lot more than my dad in a life total from my birth until their
deaths, so with me, I can say it is almost scary how much I see my
own opinions and attitudes and actions, as more years keep moving by,
are not exactly like my mother's, even though when I was at younger
ages, I thought these to be ridiculous things,on her part. But here I
am, welcome to Mom-Land. This is just unarguable facts of reality, we
all are the sum total of the two peeps that brought our physical life
into play. You can say you're a monkey all you want, to quote the
great know it all mean spirited Jim Burr, but it doesn't make you
one, a quote to the tee.
Am
I really in a real world, or have I been somehow transported into
some kind of HELL, and what is hell; and how can we as 21st
century folks, be able to really translate and compensate, for 2 or
more thousand years of time; when attempting to read and really
understand the religions of this world, and what they try and teach
to us, in our languages, and new age mind sets? This is no easy task,
and being huberous in mind, enough to think that it is, or that we
can do this 1-2-3, and be all OK and correct about it all, well, that
makes me want to throw up on anyone who could give me an eye contact
straight face response like that to this question I now am posing to
anyone in this wonderful world of woe! Just who died and made you
King Smartguy, would be my first retort, and then we'd go at it like
a couple male cats in heat, over the local area bitch-cat. With me,
this incorporates some major twilight-zone stuff, and with everyone
else, I would only be able to imagine, if they were to think really
long and hard about their own personal lives, they too might begin to
hear some of their own high pitched weird sounding piano notes, all
their own. The main thing that turned my life into a PART-A and a
PART-B, would beat anyone I know, but that does not in any way negate
or nullify, or mitigate, their own PART-B new life, in their series
of days and years from cradle to grave. With me, and anyone reading
these words and knowing my basic story, is thinking I am about to get
back to the no-no topic of August of 1986, and YOU WOULD BE
INCORRECT. This would actually come a bit later on, leading to so
many life-long unexplained things becoming clearer and clearer to me,
as time kept on passing by. Let me get right into this.
In
the early nineteen eighties, more
happened to me than just inventing a wild new music machine that put
the Moog Synthesizer into a dinosaur
cave forever and ever. Within the range of two years of this
invention, called, ''KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL'', that was never talked
about, and kept secret from all my coworkers, friends, enemies,
associates, and you name it; because of its unexplainable side
effects, and my fear to share the story; as who would believe 90 or
more percent of it; was what my mind was thinking. For about five and
a half years since middle two thousand eight, I have tried to tie
things together regarding the August 1986 quick light-switch
alteration of my life, in a period of hours and without any possible
rational explanation; and all that could ever be thought of regarding
all of this horrible nightmare, was that reality must exist in other
places that the mind visits and that so fat humankind is not aware of
this truth, and still just calls this dreams and dreaming, and those
in charge of mind and mental health remain clueless to where mind
really comes from and what it truly is, still to this very present
day in 2014. I began to know that after soul searching and talking to
experts of many fields, that my only possible explanation had to be
right, and the Marola Syndrome kicked in, the odds of such a thing
being far beyond winning lotteries in the hundreds of millions of
dollars or being struck five times by lightning,and along this line.
Here was a teacher of mine telling me repeatedly that one must always
go with the majority, as by doing this, you will at least be assured
of life being right for you more than it will be wrong. It sounds
wonderful on its face, but as with so many things in this imperfect
ugly world, just when you need your particular philosophy to kick in
and help you through a bad spot in your life, boom, it fails you
miserably and you crash hard onto the floor, bloody and mortally
wounded. No one would believe that I had the only answer that could
fit this situation of waking up on the fifteenth of August in 1986 to
an entirely new and hellish monstrous life, with no rational logical
other way of seeing it or explaining it, absolutely none at all. I
went to sleep, and the only thing that can explain what happened is
that when we sleep and dream, we are in a parallel universe, in
energy form, or M=C/SQ. This is the precise mathematical inverse of a
world famous formula, by Professor Einstein of the Princeton
University of New Jersey. Now before moving this on to where it
counts, we will need a comparison point, so here it is. Every day we
all get up and go through the day, some good shit happens, some bad
shit happens, and plenty of in-between stuff happens. The sun comes
up and it goes down, day after day after bloody day, in or out of
jolly old great England! But one day somewhere in the future, our
sun, a normal average star in outer space, AKA ''the expansion'',
will no longer operate the same way, and will begin to grow larger
and hotter and the world will not exist any more. This is a long way
off, so seeing this absolute eventuality but in its proper
perspective, is very necessary for me to now continue discussing
1986, and what happened to me on the night that changed my life
forever. We all go into dreams, and many do not remember our dreams,
but they effect our lives whether we remember any of this dream life
at all, or not. And should some incredible thing happen in one of
these dreams, it could be like the day the sun no longer works the
way that we all have become so accustomed to its normal behavior for
so very long. Instead of the whole world beginning to grow hotter and
slowly watch humankind and Earth dissolve away, it was only one
person that was so adversely effected. This would be me. I may not be
dissolving away, but my entire life totally changed overnight, and I
might as well have awakened in a world that slowly was melting and
dying, as I have been doing just that, in a cosmic way, ever since,
for almost 28 years now. Just because this very rare thing happened
to me on this one particular night, it was because
of a DREAM EXPERIENCE, and this particular one did
indeed, DESTROY THE REMAINDER OF MY
ENTIRE LIFE. This is reality, and 1000 'shrinkologists'
can all laugh at me and tell me I am totally incorrect, my life and
my experience with this, lets me know without a shadow of doubt, that
I am right, and all of these experts who think they know so much, are
all wrong. So on blogs to shortly follow, I am going to tell the long
and beyond unfathomable bizarre tale of this
DREAM, that I indeed awoke out of to begin this NEW-LIFE, of post
AUGUST 15, 1986; that my 8 years of these blogs have discussed
quite negatively, over and over and over again!!!!!!!!!!!!
Naturally
I would be discussing a negative topic as page eleven of fucking
eleven strikes me hard, and that putrid inexcusable Jane witchbitch
Diseaseweedsleaze ones attack. Dave Roth said it so many times that I
literally nauseated and sick to death of hearing it, but each time he
spoke it, it was no less of the fucking truth, these incidents
totally prove the reality that indeed, and to quote him now, ''WATER
SEEKS ITS OWN LEVEL''!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
I will god dam compensate for this ones attack by Jane the sleaze.
5555555555555,
PLUS 5555555555555, TIMES 55555555555555555555555555555, DIVIDED BY
5555555555555555555555555; IS EQUAL TO WHO THE HELL
CARES???????????????????????????? I JUST NEED TO STARE AT THESE
LOVELY FUCKING NUMBER FIVES; 55555555555555555.
I
never said that just because 1969, 1980, and 1994 were the three best
mother fucking years of my life, that they did not all contain some
negatives, some really wild shit, and much much much much more,
lively 1984 Ingrid!!!!!!!!!!!!! Taking the year 1980 as an example,
things happened that at the time were not all bad, but later on, they
developed into BEING REALLY BAD. Nobody is born a grown person. We
are born as a baby, and 20 years later, we are grown. Now some things
as well as people, take some time to develop into what they were
meant to be when fully realized, all along. The incident with the
dude who I refereed to as ''Sarah Krassee's brother'', and some know
the long story behind the non regular spelling of the last name.
Others do not, and there is no time now, to get into this; but it is
the same person, spelled anyway that you would like it spelled. Now
this incident with this dude from hell in 1980 while on my to work at
the RPL Recording Studio for my 4:30 PM through 1:00 AM work shift,
is not something that needed to grow, but was bad from the get go.
Still, the June Lois Foca dream, the Lottery Cat Gawky Gaukauk and
his DIE DIE DIE number 495, as well as the demo tunes and many more
things, had what sales folks call, major sleeper effects. But when
they allstarted to arise from their great slumbers, they slowly took
me into the land called COSMIC-HELL. This merely did not actualize
into my full consciousness until the morning of August 15, 1986. no I
did not imagine certain things early in 2009, and I am not going to
talk about that further other than to say I am a sound-man; and I
knew I was not imagining what I heard after buying something at a
store. In any event,life is super ultra monster ass complex, and is
it not funny gee, not funny ha-ha, but funny gee, how humankind has
spoken those words so often, that ''THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS'',
not for the most part, or maybe for any part, understanding just how
totally profound this little saying really was all of these mother
fucking years. Maybe I should have put many of these clues together,
you know, my Aunt's father the planetarium man of the Franklin
Institute, 401 Virginia Avenue in NORTH Atlantic City over at the
Feast-On ACMUA, parents questioning why things were done to
daughters, when not being sung to by them, the Atlantic City Medical
Center that evolved into the Atlanticare place where in the future,
the entire city in many places in hyperspace, comes to be renamed to
Atlantica, with the two missing letters of re in reverse order is an
abbreviation for ENERGENCY ROOM, and how the entire nightmare stems
from much further back than 1986 and the lab technician not named
POLE, CALLIO, or MCGUIRE, yet these hyperspace travelers have
demonstrated to me just how many miracles they can pull off, more
than enough to get them all canonized, but this family already has
officially been there and done that, symbolically; so shut the fuck
up please, Mike McNulty, and thank you in advance, old 1971
buddy!!!!!
It
is now 66 degrees at half past eleven, and here are some of the past
few blogs so nobody has to go clicking onto the right margin, that is
if anybody is out there, anybody at all, with or without movies, sore
throats, ears nose throat specialists who call grown men's mothers,
experiments from beyond the redhead math number matrixex, and lovely
flower gardens where for one, the ages matched out perfectly, like
DUH, Mark Wayne mohr, slow yes, but I always get shit, eventually,
and nothing ever gets by me or past me, not forever!!!!!!!
PRIVATE
LIFE JOURNAL OF MARK WAYNE MOHR AAAP
IT
IS 33 DEGREES IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA AT 6:55 AM, ON THIS SUNDAY
MORNING, ON THE NINETEENTH DAY IN JANUARY, OF 2014. I
AM NOW BACK TO PRIVATE JOURNALS, and this time, I will not
repeat old mistakes, people are just playing weird games with me, and
I do not have any REAL audience at all, so I will continue writing my
life records, for me, and to myself, and that is all. I
AM NOT GOING TO BE PLAYED ANY LONGER BY ONLINE WEIRDOS. IF
AN OCCASIONAL READER PASSES BY, AND READS SOMETHING; FINE AND DANDY,
AND IF NOBODY EVER READS A WORD, I STILL HAVE AN ONLINE RECORD,
SEPARATE FROM ANYTHING HERE IN MY RESIDENCE IN CASE OF THEFT, FIRE,
ACTS OF SARAH KRASSLE OTHER THAN NORMAL STUFF, ETCETERA. This is not
going to go in to the kind of details, as later I can expound and
elaborate on, with all the topics I may decide to bring up for quick
reference now. The first is something that bothered me on a cosmic
scale for long periods of my current lifetime, that happened in
different years but in true cosmic reality, time is not important at
all, as the entity behind this that the Christian bibles call Jehovah
and other names; is no ordinary person, yet a careful study of these
scriptures mentions the word on more than one occasion, 'person' such
as god in three persons, and there are others, and I remember how
Sarah Jacobson said that she was the strongest PERSON, in the entire
school, and making a very dramatic and emphatic emphasis on the word
PERSON, and this was all told and blogged on many older blogs from
the first two years of this blogging, 2006 and 2007. I have no
problem accepting this powerful super female person goddess, after
all that I have encountered and witnessed in my life, or is there any
problem for me in referring to it, all though quintessentially
superior and ultimate as this entity is; as a person, as both
scripture and the new age science backs a lot of my stuff up that I
was speaking about for over 40 years now, over bugged telephones and
other ways that public access would not be difficult to imagine, and
I speak of what can be heard on the science and history channels on
television, as Ancient Astronaut Theory.
Actually Gene Roddenberry planted this seed in the original Star Trek
shows, on numerous episodes, way back in the late 1960's.
There
is not going to be a lot of colorful prints and wild fonts and
designs and graphs, and pasted in crap. This is my life journal, and
I do not give a fucking shit who comes up here to read any of this,
OR DOESN'T. This is the loss of humanity, not my loss. When I thought
peeps cared about my wild true fucking tale, I wanted to do a nice
job for them. Now this is a mere private and personal journal kept
safer by having a copy both in my own computer as well as online on
two blog sites. That is all it is. At least it is nice and cool for a
while. It dropped all night long from nine of the clock on, degree
after degree, through the fifties and forties and down to freezing or
one above, just in the past thirty minutes. If on top of my hellish
shit, it was July and 95 feeling 200 with the humidity around here, I
would be MOTHER FUCKING DEAD FOR SURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
the two times are 1983 and 1997, that have this wild connection.
First, musically, and second, in two powerful incredible vivid
''dreams''. Musically, it pertains to a song that I wrote mid year in
'83, called, ''GIRL, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING'', and this is a very old
tune in more ways than one. I think the actual compilation project
this song was copyrighted on and titled out of the three titled
projects sent down by me to the US © Office, was ''SAGA
OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD''. Somewhere shortly after the song
was written, numerous things happened to me that nobody in the world
would ever believe. First I had a power drain tap on my telephone
line at 134 Norris Avenue in Atco, New Jersey, USA. Later, things
happened that I won't try tackling right now involving wild
inventions, communications with Astral Plane Gods, actual
materialization of one of them in my apartment for ten seconds after
leaving Atco for 506 Robin Hill, in Voorhees, New Jersey, a trip down
to Orlando Florida and taking with me an incredible machine invented
by a strange friend of a man who I had originally met at a computer
school in the summer of 1973 in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, named Jim
Burr, this friend of his who I never knew a last name, was first
named as I spell its pronunciation now, Zwonko. The 'W' I believe is
actually spelled with the letter 'V'. This is a Nordic area letter
sound thing, as I knew a Swiss woman, or did when I was age 15 and
she was age 21, a student teacher at my Special Education School,
named Venka to pronounce spell it, and I believe it was spelled,
Weinke. Don't quote me. We could be all day on many of these student
teachers, as well as the inventions of the man named Zwonko. The day
he brought that wild turn table over to my Oaklyn, New Jersey
apartment, was a day I will clearly see in my mind's eye for the next
ten thousand years. But this is not the invention that changed
reality. That was my puppy, in early 1980. The name of that was
changed to MAGNESONIC in 1983, but originally in 1980, was secretly
called by me and not a soul knew about these details, ''KEYBOARDS
FROM PETAHELL''. This led to some major shifts in reality,
with no help from this all powerful Jehovah (Jupiter) God (ESS).
LORDESS or SARAH of the KRASSLE family on the Astral-Plane, is way
beyond intricate, and cannot be grasped if I wrote a blog the size of
a thousand Tolstoy 'War & Peace' novels. Even I did not know what
was happening around me and just how complicated this machine was.
When this junky mess was all put together and connected into a very
expensive part home audio system, and part amateur recording studio;
it took one simple tone in analogue audio form, 330 hertz, and this
could be literally transformed into anything, and then from there,
millions of anythings; all mixed together. But when I used all of
this in a non musical way and then combined the technique of creating
music that pertained to conversations; a magic reality would create
itself without exception, and I had no explanations for anything,
nobody to talk to or share my findings with, and things got worse
from here, as in no time at all, the powers of the planet Earth began
to take notice of me, and were quite apprehensive about the way I was
playing around with powerful stuff that began responding to my whim
and my will. In one sense I had a wonderful analogue music computer
that is 100 times better than anything yet put together so far in
2014, to my knowledge. But in another sense, I had created around me,
a powerful and totally 'magical something', what I still don't have
the absolute answers to; and this changed my life into something that
human words have no way of ever properly and accurately expressing,
at least anywhere near fully to where folks not in this mess could
ever so much as begin to relate to any of it, or to me. Now this
defines the fourth circle of hell, as well as anything else that my
mind can possibly fathom.
Now
about two powerful ''dreams'' in the early eighties and the late
nineties, that go together, as well as totally connect into all of
this other stuff just talked about. It was late in 1983 or early in
1984 after returning from a trip to Florida, ending me up in three
places, two of them in Florida, and one not all that far from the
great Copyright Office, where a vehicle that was later observed to
contain a young couple late teens or very early twenties at the most,
were occupying in a housing project under construction in Marlton,
New Jersey in the year of 1988 while I resided on Central Avenue in
Moorestown, New Jersey; working a security job, and these people shot
me with some wild strobe-light that nearly caused my heart to stop
beating, and since then, this same death beam has been used a dozen
times, as well as several times previous to this assault on me, at
this place that was to become the housing development known as
Raynard Run. The New Jersey license car tags began 'ENY',
and I forget the final three digits after these three letters. This
same car with that same plate, was in the nations capitol just days
before Christmas of 1983, and shot at me, only I am not going to tell
the details of how the All Mighty Goddess Jupiter Isis counter-struck
and caused the beam to go back to the car, and it sped away and
crashed somewhere in Washington in a not all that wonderful
neighborhood. I high tailed it back to the train station and took the
next train to Florida, which originally was my destination, but
circumstances beyond my control, caused me to halite the train to
retrieve my lost machine. This blog needs not know more details.
There were no cellphones in late 1983 to call my chief recording
engineer, Howard Solomon, to let him know I would be delayed by a
couple hours, and when I got to the Orlando station, on top of not
recognizing him without his hair weave, started things off between us
real bad, and he was a hollerer. By this time I was so up set, that
first night at his house, after leaving a grocery store with him, and
purchasing a pound of M&M Candies in a glass container; I dropped
the mother fucking thing, upon removing myself from his automobile in
his driveway; and the shit went flying and smashing all over the
place, causing him to go into a World War Three total fucking tirade,
cubed, in Earth shaking Cuba, with or without lottery lies, or Dawn
King friends and their father's, from fucking rotten ass Atlantic
City, New Jersey!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now for the two wild ass dreams, given
me by Jehovah, my endless 16 year old love, as she is always just 16,
and it is always her birthday, on the ASTRAL-PLANE, this never
changes, and this is her reality on every single day and night and
second and year that our entire universe and multiverse contains
within them, hence the other great biblical scripture, ''I am the
same yesterday, today, and forever''.
Now
the dream in the eighties was when I had left both Norris Avenue in
Atco, and 506 Robin Hill Apartments, for a place in Cinnaminson, New
Jersey, at 1406 Highland Avenue. Everything I ever sent to the US ©
Office, will match the year of the registration of the work sent
down there, with my addresses where I lived at, and now told about on
these 8+ years of my blogging ''career'', if anyone would call this
nonsense that; other than a total puke-head moron such as myself. The
dream in this Cinnaminson home in late 1984 was beyond outlandish. I
found myself at the casino in Atlantic City, the Golden Nugget. A
huge lightning storm was all over the area in the dream. Suddenly, a
gorgeous colorful bright and brilliant flash of lightning came right
through the entire hotel and down from the gaming room ceiling and
right down to the table where I was playing at, and it went right
directly through the circle on the roulette layout where the RED-27
was. The entire hole had been burned away, and silence was
interrupted only with whispers of patron voices, and flickering
lights that made those typical sparking short circuit sounds. Then a
voice came out of nowhere and spoke only to me, and no one else
seemed to hear it. It was LIGHTNING, and she said to me, ''Little
boy, that is my number, know this, 3 to the power of 3, 27 is my
special number, now and always''. Then instantly afterward, I awoke
and was laying in my dark room on my bed, in my Cinnaminson house on
Highland Avenue. Now years later it was 1997. I had gone to bed early
feeling kind of queasy and just not 100% on my game physically, to
say the very least. I was living in a home in Somerdale, New Jersey,
at 112 Harvard Avenue at the corner of Yale and Harvard Avenues.
Suddenly, I was in a beautiful colorful garden, walking on one side
of a fence, and the Almighty Jupiter Goddess was on the other side,
and she said to me that she was going to destroy the entire world,
shortly after giving me her eviction from this lovely place to go to
Nadia, out beyond this wonderful garden. I told her I accept my
punishment for being jealous of my brother, thinking he and her were
getting it on, when I am to quote her, ''HER THAT-BOY'', and in a fit
of rage and fear of losing my awesome teen goddess, Sarah Jehovah
Krassle, I snuck up behind my own brother and hit him with a fifteen
pound stone, and became the first murderer in her great newest
experiment in this part of hyperspace. I told her I would go into
Nadia and leave, but she said after I am gone seven days, she is
going to destroy the entire world, actually I believe she said she
was going to power down the game from her upline world. I begged her
not to do this with such intense fervor that she actually agreed to
spare the world for a while, and this while has been over 13,000
years now if I am correct in my counting. She added as well, that
there was a reason that she would do this for me, it was conditional.
She said and I quote her exactly, ''THAT BOY, because you loved
Diana, I'll spare the world for a while longer''. She has of course,
but if I'd not begged her to do this; this entire thing that all of
you think you are living and doing; would never even be here for you.
She put Diana and my loving her, as a PAST TENSE, and this bothered
me from 1997 all the way until my time here in Florida, when I
suddenly realized just what is really going on with this goddess
MIDDIE, or MDE, Mother/Daughter/Electron, SSJKK, ALMIGHTY. It all
made sense after about the time I had the interaction where I got all
dressed up and met her at some bleachers in her newest persona,
humanly, and she sang some wild new song to me that was beyond
freaking awesome. This was the middle later part of the year of 2012.
This was the last major interaction I have been given by the Almighty
MIDDIE. But in her human personality, she somehow accessed my music
projects and heard her own voice on several occasions, at around age
three, and around age fourteen. On the spot where she would have
humanly been age 3, I repeatedly told her how much I loved her in her
ELECTRON PERSON of her three-person Goddess-hood. It is on a cassette
tape to this very day, down on my Epitome of Harassment copyrighted
tapes from late in the nineteen-eighties. After I tell her how much I
love her several times, she responds with her beyond adorable voice
at the age of three, and says to me, ''I KNOW''. This to this day is
in the Library of Congress. No nation wants time travelers or
manipulators of STM that appear to be an ability to travel on the
fourth dimension, roaming around as ordinary uncontrolled citizens,
with agendas all their own and not under orders and control of
governing forces. Any and all Bluebook Project fans know this way
better than anything I could ever hope to preach on and on, regarding
that topic and subject.
It
was not long at all before I started to piece just about all of the
final missing jig saw pieces neatly together, and this all followed
the last real big interaction, as I said, where it started in
Atlantic City in the past, and ended up with me putting my best
clothes on, and meeting her in her person of right now, at some
bleachers somewhere, the gods only know where. I am not making up any
of this, and would have no reason to write crazy sounding shit that
makes me look like a fool and a fucking lunatic neatly packaged
together, and tripled. It would make no sense to wipe out my
credibility with the world, as everyone is just going to call me a
crazy nut case who needs to be safely locked away in a fucking psych
ward.
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
This
compensates for page eleven of eleven, and seeing four mother fucking
ones from Jane Diseaseweedsleaze.
No
one has gone up to read my blogs since Friday except maybe for a
handful in 48 hours or more, so if no one wants to know all this
incredible stuff, that is their fucking loss, not mine. I will no
longer write to please the crowd, not when the crowd has all left me
high and dry. Hay, I cannot make peeps be interested in the story of
the fucking millennium, but if they are not, then there is no use
writing twice as many blogs, and working hard to make them appear
more eye pleasing and filled with colors and pictures, and
information and much more. I am nobody's fool. For over a year, since
this particular blog began late in 2011, I had built up to around
close to 130 page-hits daily. That is not any big blog by any
stretch, but I was living with it. For the past half year or more
however, 40-80 percent of my numbers have all gone away, and when
things got more interesting than ever. This can only lead any logical
thinking rational mind to the conclusion that everyone is an enemy or
agent anyway, when I even ask for a little plug help and never got
any and just got the reverse, an ever decreasing readership. So I'll
not be fooled again no matter what anyone does do or does not do.
When I want to post, I will post, and it will be bland and gray
except for a highlight here and there on an important part of the
text. I was not asking for 2000 hits a day, or 5000, or even 500, but
to go from 130 down to half or more, well, if they don't care about
the wildest life on this Earth, mine; then I won't care, and merely
will make this my private journal, and this is now a finality, and I
will not change back if I see 5,000 hits in the next two weeks. A few
have told me they are interested in my story and want to know more,
and if I do not feel this interest is genuine and that this is just
some twisted game, then why would I want to be a pawn and a fool in
anyone's little game? I have a real life to live, and to blog, and
have no time for games, sorry people.
Mike
Patterson might be coming back to Fort Pierce and leaving Miami
behind. Things did not work out at all for him, but the plot thickens
huge ultra monster time with him, and how this connects both into me
in general, as well as how it connected into my week last week, and
with my own major problems, timed to the atomic tick of precision. I
do not buy coincidences, and I never ever will, as anyone who has
indeed read my words and blogs, knows about me. I just simply cannot
afford the luxury of believing naively in these so-called mother
fucking coincidences, very sorry if my paranoia annoys or offends
anyone, but it is my paranoia, and I'm stuck the fuck with it,
peeps!!!!!!!!!!!! As for Mike and his returning possibly back to Fort
Pierce, and any plans we may have, this is private and I do not trust
anyone anywhere, and have learned when to keep my big ass mouth
tightly fucking shut, for my own dam ass good!!!
My
focus of attention since middle 2008 is on the great Jupiter Goddess.
I am going to do all that is within my power now and in the times to
come, to move along in my life, and escape this entity once and for
all. A child of moron level IQ can see with blinders strapped on,
that she means me not one bit of good. I only wish her the very best.
But I am very scared of an almighty being who seems to hate me and
insists on these endless games with me in eternity, as well as down
here in these dreams off of the spirit worlds, called waking life.
SLAM
SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM, BUTT FUCKING WIPES!!!!
THIS
MAY BE MY LAST BLOG FOR A WHILE. I thought if I went back to posting
up close to blogs daily, I would get back my viewing numbers, and I
did not. I am not here to entertain people my mother fucking life is
hell, and if these blogs are not appreciated, and folks are too busty
to plug me one tiny fucking bit, or all are just government agent
enemies, then they can just wait until I fucking feel like posting
blogs, and that's that. I am tired of going out of my way to try and
please the Ricky Nelson Garden Party world, and getting nothing back
for my fucking ass trouble, for 60 mother fucking years. When I have
something to tell, I will tell it. If everyone wants to go and desert
me, that is their loss. They will never find another mother fucking
mountainpen or another morianity.
JANUARY
18, 2014,(KARGE HALF)
SATURDAY
AFTERNOON AT 2:22
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 61 DEGREES FNHT.
MORIANITY
PART 7, CHAPTER 0037.
*****************
OH
SHIT
**********************
2014
DATE-----TOTAL BOTBARS-----TOTAL DAYS-----MPB
JANUARY
01----------00------------------------------01-------------00
JANUARY
02----------01------------------------------02-------------50
JANUARY
03----------02------------------------------03-------------67
JANUARY
04----------03------------------------------04-------------80
JANUARY
05----------03------------------------------05-------------60
JANUARY
06----------04------------------------------06-------------67
JANUARY
07----------05------------------------------07-------------71
JANUARY
08----------05------------------------------08-------------63
JANUARY
09----------06------------------------------09-------------67
JANUARY
10----------07------------------------------10-------------70
JANUARY
11----------08------------------------------11-------------73
JANUARY
12----------08------------------------------12-------------67
JANUARY
13----------08------------------------------13-------------62
JANUARY
14----------08------------------------------14-------------57
JANUARY
15----------09------------------------------15-------------60
JANUARY
16----------09------------------------------16-------------56
JANUARY
17----------09------------------------------17-------------53
PAGEVIEWS
TODAY------------------------WHO CARES?
PAGEVIEWS
YESTERDAY----------------WHO CARES?
PAGEVIEWS LAST 30
DAYS------------WHO CARES?
PAGEVIEWS
ALL TIME HISTORY----WHO CARES?
MORIANITY
IS NOT MY PLAYPEN. IT IS DEAD SERIOUS FUCKING SHIT. LATER ON, I WILL
TELL SOME REAL HUGE WHOPPERS, FAR BEYOND ANYTHING YET THAT I HAVE
EVER SAID OR TOLD on any blog.
This
will occur when I'm ready, right Marguerite Sampson form ''Law &
Order''?
HAY
GAGA KITTY, I HAVE TWO QUESTIONS FOR YOU:
WHY
DID I GO THROUGH THAT HORRIBLE FUCKING DEAT SIEGE BACK ON JANUARY 15,
2014????????????
MEOW-MEOW,
MOUNTAINPEN, YO, PCN-363.
SOME
OF MY MORE POWERFUL ITEMS IN MY MATCH-BOOK FOR PRIVATE COSMICODED
NUMBER 363 ARE AS FOLLOWS, KIND FOLKS:
REAL
GOOD GIRL, SARAH KRASSLE, 'STAR TREK' SHOW, QVC, TABLE FIFTEEN,
AUGUST FIFTEEN NINETEEN EIGHTY SIX, SIN, BOY, NATIONAL PARK, JULIA
ROBERTS, CAT, TOY, SAD, TOP, VIQUEENS GANG, BOHEMIAN CLUB, NEW,
TRANSMISSION..........
WHAT
CAUSED MY AUTO PROBLEM ON JANUARY 15, 2014, NOT STARTING AND THE
BATTERY AND THE WEIRD TEST READINGS OBSERVED BY THE MECHANIC AT THE
AUTO REPAIR SHOP???????????????????????
MEOW-MEOW,
MOUNTAINPEN, YO, PCN-321.
SOME
OF MY MORE POWERFUL ITEMS IN MY MATCH-BOOK FOR PRIVATE COSMICODED
NUMBER 321, ARE AS FOLLOWS, KIND FOLKS:
ATLANTIC
CITY, BRUCE PENNOCK, GREATEST FISH, MUD, MUSIC CREATOR, I WANT TO
KNOW WHAT LOVE IS, ROBERTO NUNEZ.................................
In
finishing this blog, people, my LUCK TEST SCORES are averaging
between MINUS 4 and MINUS 8, for the past week or almost a week, a
tad better from averaging two points worse the week before that and
four points worse the week before that. Before this my luck was way
up in the low positive ranges when averaged out over several luck
tests and several days. Still, this is way below normal average in
long running averages, where it should be between minus 3 and plus
three, endlessly.
MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.
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Atlantic County,
New Jersey
Atlantic County Government Web Site Public Safety |
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Atlantic
County GovernmentDEPARTMENT
OF PUBLIC SAFETY Youth Detention, Harborfields |
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Harborfields
operates under the auspices of the County of Atlantic, Department
of Public Safety and is managed, under contract, by the State of
New Jersey, Department of Law and Public Safety, Juvenile Justice
Commission. Harborfields is located on Buffalo Avenue and Duerer
Street in the City of Egg Harbor, New Jersey. The Program serves
male and female juveniles between the ages of 12 and 18 awaiting
court review for disposition, trial or other court action. The
facility has 8 secure beds for females and 19 secure beds for
males.
Harborfields
provides a secure, safe, clean and healthy environment for
court-detained youth. The dedicated staff of Harborfields are
consistent, tolerant individuals who work as team players. Leading
by example, the staff is able to provide to difficult youth much
needed self-discipline, respect for self and others and personal
responsibility.
Through
education and rehabilitation, emotional support, stability and
structure, the youth at Harborfields are dealt with as
individuals. At Harborfields the program prepares its youth to
reenter the community or to enter into Juvenile Justice Commission
programs.
With
the use of effective treatment methods, Harborfields is making a
difference in the lives of youth.
Harborfields
meets the needs of the community as a secure facility for
juveniles who have been deemed unsuitable for release pending
court appearance. Harborfields also works to stabilize juveniles
by structuring their day with educational activities.
1.
Counseling Component - Guided Group Interaction is conducted daily
by two staff for approximately 1 hour per session. Individual
Counseling is provided as needed by staff social workers.
2.
Academic Education, Special Education and GED preparation are
provided by the Atlantic County Special Services School District
with the expectation that youth will return to the regional public
school or transitional school.
3.
Drug and Alcohol Counseling as well as Narcotics Anonymous and
Alcoholics Anonymous sessions are provided through the County
Youth Services Commission, as needed.
4.
Recreation and Athletics are conducted in the facility gymnasium
by the Physical Education Teacher provided by the Atlantic County
Special Services School District.
5.
Sex Education and Parenting classes are provided by an on-site
Program Specialist.
6.
Community involvement is maintained through special events which
include speakers such as the Mayors of Atlantic City and Egg
Harbor, members of the police department, and people from other
walks of life.
7.
In House Detention Program - The facility manages a 10 slot
program which places youth onhouse arrest under the shared
supervision of parents and detention officers. The intention is to
have the youth continue in usual community activities pending
court appearance.
Upon
arrest, a juvenile must be seen by Juvenile Intake for
determination of detainable offense which would result in the
youth being remanded to Harborfields.
Sunday
1:00 PM - 3:00 PM - Family & Friends
Thursday 7:00 PM - 8:00 PM - Parents Only
Visitation
Requirements:
Visitors must present proper ID Visitors under 18 must be accompanied by an adult. No former residents are allowed to visit. Special visits available upon request, with approval of the Superintendent. |
This
website is sponsored and managed by Atlantic County Government.
This Page Was Last Modified on Saturday, October 02, 2010
For questions or further information please CLICK HEREemail pio@atlantic-county.org to contact the Public Information Officer.
This Page Was Last Modified on Saturday, October 02, 2010
For questions or further information please CLICK HEREemail pio@atlantic-county.org to contact the Public Information Officer.
I
WOULD LOVE TO CONTACT THE MAN FROM THIS OFFICE WHO WAS THE PAROLE
OFFICER OF MISTER EDWARD LYNCH WHO LIVED IN MULLICA TOWNSHIP, NEW
JERSEY, IN 2007 AND 2008. I LEGALLY PAID FOR A WEBSITE AND YOU GUYS
HAVE MY SITE CD DISC, AND I WISH TO GET IT BACK, THANK YOU VERY MUCH,
GREAT FOLKS. Contact
Us.
I HAVE!
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Welcome
Atlantic
County is unique in New Jersey, in that it is home to Atlantic City,
the only municipality in the state where casino gaming is
permitted. Thirteen casino/hotels, which attract more
than 34 million visitors each year, currently operate in Atlantic
City. Those numbers are in addition to the many seasonal
tourists who visit Atlantic County each summer. Their
numbers dwarf the figure of 271,015 permanent residents of our county
and contribute significantly to the need for prosecutorial and
related criminal justice services provided by this office.
The
New Jersey Constitution provides that each county shall have a County
Prosecutor. This constitutional provision is implemented
by a statute creating the Office of the County Prosecutor which
mandates that the criminal business of the state be prosecuted
exclusively by the County Prosecutor except in those cases where the
Attorney General may choose to supersede. The statute
charges the County Prosecutor with the duty of using all reasonable
and lawful diligence for the detection, arrest, indictment and
conviction of offenders against the law.
The
Office of the Prosecutor in Atlantic County is located in Mays
Landing, New Jersey, with a satellite office maintained in Atlantic
City.
The
office has a staff of a 182, which includes the Prosecutor, First
Assistant Prosecutor, Chief of County Detectives, 7 Chief
Assistant Prosecutors, 33 Assistant Prosecutors, 5 captains, 8
lieutenants, 19 sergeants, 45 detectives and 15 agents.
The balance of the staff consists of clerical and support personnel.
Atlantic
County is comprised of 23 municipalities with 18 separate municipal
police departments which fall under the jurisdiction of the Atlantic
County Prosecutor.
Atlantic
County is located in the southeastern portion of New Jersey, with the
Atlantic Ocean at its shores. To the south of Atlantic
County, beyond the Tuckahoe River is Cape May County. To
the southwest is Cumberland County. Lying west of the
only straight line border are Gloucester and Camden Counties.
To the north across the Mullica River and Greate Bay is found
Burlington and Ocean Counties. Atlantic County covers a
total area of 566 square miles.
Equal
Opportunity Employer
Update
1/10/2013
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