Friday, March 21, 2014

TAPE 25,748


Water-witch, CALLI-KALI-CALL TEN CALLIO, and your wonderful pal Bob McGuire, controllers of one third of the triangulation; I know you are always there, and only care about destroying everything totally and absolutely that is any part of me and my life. The why to this is the same why to anything and everything, even hand washing David and his relatives from Smithtown, New York on their worst weekend ever on 11 May of crummy '95, a year I relate quite well to myself, and every weekend was lousy. As for John and Nick, and lovely sis, this is a lot like colony 256 and other colonies when cosmanet is operational, or as Lieutenant Ouhora puts it quite well in the original Star Trek shows, ''subspace chatter'', first popping into reality as chat rooms on the world wide web, later to become the Swis System, and still later, President Lincoln sir, taped or digital music being recreated and not live; comes the Pratt Cloud. What I do not understand is why two things I am unable to find in Washington in my files. One is Dancing in the Ocean or the original part one epitome Of Harassment project, and the other is THE PERMISSION BARRIER. Hopefully, these projects have not gone the way of Summer of Love 2000 or billy Harner 2000 or whatever the dumb thing was called before it was made to go away, right Mister McCoy? Let me take a quick hand wash break now folks, and I'll be back. SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!

COURTESY OF THE WEATHER BUG!!!

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**JOURNAL TAPE 25,748**







DUH, I wonder why my hands are still unclean, Jesus Carpenter. Oh that's right, it is the inside of humankind that needs the cleansing, as you said, oh great uncle-63!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







As for Colony Quna, and Colony 256, and disability, and psychiatrists who heard some small bit of my story back in 1994, you're not the only one depressed Nick. That's one hell of a monster stereo, you and wall banger Frank Callio have put together. Jesus Christmas Trees.





Now coming down to Earth and landing for a little while, Misses Estelle Anderson Bassler of Ormond Beach, Florida, USA-ESMWG; thank you for expanding my horizons in 1997 about State College, Pennsylvania. Did you all ready Lenny McKinnon know, that all those troubles were going to follow, and if so, where was your wonderful transdimensional bulldozer machine, when Walmart and all voice-mails and all Andres-whatever's, really needed you, sweetie pie????????????????? WHAAAAAA!













GET OUT OF MY MOTHER FUCKING MOUSE, OR I'll BLOW UP YOUR HOUSE, HACKER. I MAY BNOT KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, BUT MAGGIE KFP DOES, AND ASK SCARED LENNY ABOUT JAMMED GATES AND MY LIZ MONTGOMERY POP IN POWERS, YO YO YO YO YO, HELL CHRIST WONDER AVENUE OF BLACKWEIRD, NEW JERSEY.





Sat Nurine of wide taxi turns, and special friendships with magical exploring ladies, whose street name I only knew as PAULA KING, let me advise you that I accept your offer to join the ESS. The next move is yours.





Shades of my Echelon-Towers Building, or Ventnor dreams, and other ''alien abduction experiences'' shared around the planet''???WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh the gods, my message would be heard the loudest and remembered the longest, if told through music, right old pal Mister Plato? I suppose they had to beware the tide that brought that message. Now stuff is beginning to pop into freaking place as days go by. TIME TRAVEL IS 100% GOING ON! Oh by gash by golly, what did you do to me, Misses gorgeous Marola? Yes shortly after meeting the great one, Sarah Jacobson, at Cooley-Wormhole Hall in the very early nineteen- seventies; came the parallel universe experience where I saw the great awesome Christmas Tree Angel in the lobby of the building, singing the song we all know and love, that is aired by her still every holiday season. The problem is she was two years old then. This is why the government knows it is better for the general population to just go and wash their hands of all of this stuff and live regular normal lives and let them handle the situation. Actually, this is not something that this blogger disagrees with one bit, President Obama, kind sir. Just in case you wanted to know where I stood, sir. Yes dear world, we all have opinions and this makes the world go round, or so they say, and on top of that, here is the opinion of the WFMU’s Beware of the Blog. OH YES, BY ALL MEANS, WATCH OUT FOR THAT HORRIBLE MARK WAYNE MOHR. WHAT A MONSTER.






Mark_from_nj

At the risk of being pigeonholed as the Girl Who Writes About Crazy Cursing Dudes, I bring you Mark from New Jersey. Mark has far-ranging theories on time travel, Armageddon, roulette and Donna Summer (the DEVIL!), which he angrily discusses in various telephone conversations. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, whatever you say, darlin'.































































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Photo: Full moon and Earth

















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Photo: Lateral view of human brain

(PHOTOS) Human Brain, courtesy of the National Geographic Society.






IT DOES NOT TAKE A REAL BIG ONE OF THOSE TO KNOW THAT MARK WAYNE MOHR HAS SUFFERED THROUGH A NIGHTMARE FOR A VERY VERY VERY LONG TIME, LOVELY INGRID FROM GOOD OLD 1984!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!















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. *****THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:*****











AHA AHA AH AHA MIKE MCNULTY, YEAH, DEAL WITH IT, YOU KNOW WHAT'S GETTING SAID PARTNER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DID A FEW MEASLEY DECADES WIPE YOUR MEMORIES OUT LIKE A MCGUIRE MAGIC LEPRAWAND?????????















''THE FASCITAR, THE JACOBSON, THE DONALD; AND THE WORLD OF THE ELECTROMAGNETIC SPECTRUM'', AND THEN THERE CAME MY INVITE TO JOIN THE ESS ON THE FINAL 2014 DAY OF WINTER, BIG ASS WOW, JOANNE, FROM 1979. Before I remembered it all, you were my first. Then came the memories, Barbara, both Barbara's, no electric shocks dock!





RIGHT TAXI DRIVER KAREN GRASSI?”



SUBTITLED, PART TWO OF DA CONTRASTS BLOG, MMCN-71





Well peeps, TODAY WAS A NICE MOTHER FUCKING BOTBAR, but not just any fucking botbar. IT WAS MY 100TH BOTBAR FOR 2013, AND BILLY AND SALLY, YO; “THAT'S SAYIN' SOMETHING”. I won't lie and say I have not been given my share of good advice from the rock stars of the world because I am not a fucking liar, Captain 1981 Crawford, sir. Billy's advice to me about staying to myself, was pitch fucking ass perfect, 100% of the cent, speaking of vocalists such as him and a slew of others along my great lengthy pathway through STM!











Peeps, before I move along, I will draw you an updated fucking picture of November-2013 MPB remember this is short abbreviated for MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE BOTBAR!!!!!!!!!!!!! REMEMBER THOSE HORRIBLE TIMES, GOOD PEEPS???????????????????









Where this blog takes us next will be something ENEMIES do not want to fucking deal fucking with, I promise, lovely MO. Hacking is getting worse, Bob. I was never planning to go to places I now will be going, because my mother fucking life is totally on the cock sucking line with these horrible monster fucking bastards. They leave me no choice, as Barney said to that lovely blond on that great TV show from long back, ''DARK SHADOWS''. And then the clock went tickatee-tock, and now we are here with a jeer and a sneer. I did not want to get this far into my life, and there is so much yet to tell, because time is moving along with me telling my past. Theoretically, it never ever ends!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAA.









Yes, I officially accept the invite for membership in the ESS. When finalized, I'll be subject to your regulations and will not do anything to compromise my situation. I await your response.

































MARCH 21, 2014

FRIDAY MORNING AT 4:29,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 67 DEGREES FNHT.

















THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:
















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