Saturday, August 31, 2019

NUMDWATATES NOTE G1


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NUMDWATATES NOTE G1

1:09 ANTE' MERIDIAN

SATURDAY MORNING

31 AUGUST, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG





Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

© 2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs Of Mountainpen)








THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.




THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE












Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
PAu000501582
1983



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To access the first part of Morianity, where to quote lovely 'Dark Shadows' Mizz Sabrina Collins can be absolutely and perfectly quoted here, “It all began”;

MERELY CLICK THE LINKS, YO!




















Mountainpen's LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:



August 31, 2019



CURRENT PHASE IS: WAXING CRESCENT 1:5





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Since the near future is totally uncertain as to whether or not I will be leaving Florida forever, after nearly ten years here, and is dependent on how much if any significant damage is done to my dwelling with the approaching HURRICANE DORIAN; I feel quite compelled to tell you all a story about Mizz DAWN-MARIE KING, as it relates to me the Mountainpen, and my family curse, sometimes refered to me on these 'BOM' blogs, as the HUNTINGTON-CURSE! Dawn changed completely once she had me in her grip, and living with her and her illegal hubby Chicky from Guatemala, and her mom, Mizz Ann King Silva, of Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. I came up with a mortal world explanation that she did not like some of my dirty videotapes and the nasty things that I had written on the back of the boxes that they were in. I seriously doubt that this had a whole damn lot to do with her total change of intense hatred of me, once she and her family had me in their DEATH GRIP, leading to my demise and eventuality of becoming a resident of this Florida-Hellhole, as well as losing every important and dear possession that meant so much to me, and accumulated over four plus decades of time. So I think it is quite prudent and wise right about now, since this may be the temporary ending of my blogs for a month or whatever; to delve more deeply into the wild story that brought my New Jersey life into a sudden and horrendous termination, and with absolutely no tiny bit of help from the great ex-governor of Cali, known to all who love him, and his great movies; as sir 'Arnold I'll-Bebachhhhhk'! Dawn said some unthinkable things to me just hours before we departed ways forever that fateful day in the early second week of cold gray dark December of 2009 days, and without any great old songs being played, darling, or 'loving anyone even now'. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Allow me to go on a bit with this, peeps, if ye pweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeezw!!!!!!!!!! TANKS, and a great big non HARRAH'S CASINO COSMOS ENDING LAZARUS BOOM!!!!























Dawn spent most of her life in and out of jail, that is until I came along, and then like TRUMP-MAGIC, she somehow vely vely vely non-McDowell Cooley Hall mysteriously managed to STAY OUT OF THE LOCAL COUNTY JAIL SYSTEM. Towards the end when I knew my position was very hopeless there at the FBI agent's rented home on Thirteenth Street in Hammonton hanging in there DJ-Paula Forest-Fires, New Jersey; I did all that I could safely do to get her put back into jail, since she was in violation of her probation in ten major ways, the least of which was her incessant monstrous drinking and violent frightening temper tantrums. But I failed to do so, and even when her mother Ann who sided with me at the end, or so I had thought, and we both went to the Atlantic County Prosecutor's Office to speak to her Probation Officer, Mister John Judy, things still did not change, and she got away with it all, LIKE MAJOR TRUMP MAGIC, and anyone out here who refuses to believe my truths about what my Morianity mother fucking refers to on these blogs as “TRUMP-MAGIC”, is nothing but a groupation of quintessential asshole fools on steroids!!!!!!! So I ended up losing every important thing that was so near and dear to my pitiful pathetic diseased old fucking clit lapping heart, forever. Not that a single rotten fucking soul could give a shit, huh CUZZ DJT? SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!











Dawn and the entire magical KING CLAN FROM HELL, sir Russell Thaxton who knows that I am totally 4-REALE, or at least for real; knows how major ass powerful that all of this mother fucking shit really is, as well as its total 'cosmic-value'. Maybe it is in hindsight, but I know that he knows it now, only yes folks, “it's way too damn late” now, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!! Businessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by headBusinessman with hands up by head



This fella is MOST DEFINATELY for real! A friend of mine roomed with him for awhile at his home in Blue Anchor, NJ, and said Mark screamed and yelled into a phone that was off the hook, non-stop, for days on end. He believes lightning is a Goddess named Sarah Krassle, and that the Atlantic Ocean is the Goddess Stacey. Moreover, he is convinced that the Kennedy family, in conjunction with the Carey family (Mariah and them), in conjunction with the Trump and NJ Callio family, are conjointly conspiring to kill him, using black-op helicopter missions, spraying his immediate air space with chem-trails, and sending Atlantic City-residing life guards and bar tenders stealing into the night, waiting to catch him off-guard. The only problem being that he lives in Ft. Pierce, FL now, but still believes they’re out there. You can google “MOUNTAINPEN” to catch up on his latest blogs.

Posted by: Razzy McThaxton | March 16, 2012 at 09:00 AM

Razzy McThaxton










MEET CRACKPOT MOUNTAINPEN NEBNOOSHOO; OH YEAH, RIGHT.



THIS CAN ALL BE GOOGLED UP UNDER “CRACKPOTS FROM NEW JERSEY”. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Even Lightning tried to warn me, as well as my dead mother did, once in a dollar store with my mom in a powerful 'dream', and then later on the FBI'AGENT'S porch right outside of the kitchen, when Dawn was in the local Hammonton town jail, and I came a whisker close to getting out of their diseased hell. BUT NO, this had been planned from before I ever even came into this world as the current-ME. But alas, I ENDED UP SCREWED, AND I LOST EVERYTHING AND MY LIFE HERE IN FLORIDA IS WORSE THAN IT WAS UP IN GODFDAMN FUCKING NEW JERSEY, NOT THAT A SINGLE SOLITARY SOUL CARES IN THE LEAST LITTLE FUCKING BIT, BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All they care about is Mark can get too many powerful name recognized peeps into shit that they don't need to be in, so SCREW FUCKING HIM!!!!!!!!!!! And that is why I love Senator Bernie Sanders, and I hate the fortune 500 capitalist PIGS! THAT is the long and the short of the whole damn thing. THAT is the entire deal all compressed and cunt lapping nut-shelled into one little ass ball!!!! That's the entire story, SHERIFF MASCARA, oh wonderful great and very kind sir, yo!!!! HA-HA-HA JANE Sleazeweedsdisease, YOU MISSED ME, YO ROTTEN BITCH WITCH!!!!













I AM GOING TO PRINT SOME LOVELY FUCKING NUMBER FIVE ROWS, ANYWAY, EVEN NOW, ON THIS NON GRAY COLD DAY THAT IS NOT IN DECEMBER, BUTTERCHEESE AND YES, BIG ASS BUT but, in the month of August on this final day of the eighth month. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, Sir Chester-frank, yo!!!! HERE COMES ANOTHER MOTHER FUCKING TWAT ITCHING (`~HACK); Attorney General Moody, Sheriff Mascara, and Chief of FPPD, Mizz Diane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So WOW-THAT, OW!











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It is important that I let the record know and set it totally damn ass straighter than any arrow, that Dawn was part of the family-plan from months, years, decades, centuries, and millennia ago, and the SHAH OF IRAN being at my Aunt Geraldine Mason's lovely weird Narberth, Pennsylvania home, was no accident, nor was it any damn ass stupid coincidence either; Sheriff Mascara, kind sir!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT I PROMISE THE PLANET, in spades, at light speed squared, BRAHHHHH!















Peter Vitteretti from the Pleasantville, New Jersey Human Resources-Welfare Office, put me onto the Atlantic City Providence Avenue assistance place where I met Job Coach Mizz Jennifer Washburn. She got me working at the security job location called, Cifaloglio. This is where my coworker associate, Security Officer Christopher Bennett, put me onto starting a blog, as we discussed our lives and our troubles late in 2005, and by early 2006, I had gone to my local Berryville, New Jersey (Hammonton) library, and started my blog that now has been online for nearly fourteen years since early in January of 2006. This is where Ed Lynch (Himacane) came along one day, and he happened to be staying over at the local rooming-house owned by the local town judge, Judge Frank Raso, who was renting the apartment upstairs from Ed's apartment, to the King's, Ann, Dawn, and hubby-Chicky, and dozens of illegal Guatemalans who crashed there from time to time as well, along with their doggie 'MIDGE', as well as other wild supernatural phenomenon, from the not always totally Bruce Pennock-perfect angelic groupation from the ASTRAL-PLANE. See how things fit together in ways so damn inescapable, folks? See why our LORD spoke such things such as, “I knew you while you were still in the womb”? I could go on and on and on, DON-TYPO!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe I am not so sorry, Mister Ambassador, that poor little hyperactive Star Trek Rhytalin-Riddelin Merry, couldn't go out and have fun at age five and a half, on Halloween Day of 1975. Imagine all of thissssssssssssssss, Mizz AMC-SLEK? Maybe Mister McThaxton outsmarted himself earlier this decade. Who can ever know such things with or without great awesome breath echos, huh great illustrious Copyright Office of the USA?????? As I speak-type, my across the hall nabes just slammed in at 2:23:38 on this early MOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING!!!!!!!!











All that there ever is or can be, is the ENDLESS-NOW. This endless now exists in a perpetual state, with photon memories and photon projections. Ask the great New York City and American and even World Renown Physicist, Professor Michio Kaku if I am right about that. He will understand my message very well, as many if not most will say, what the hell is the Mountainpen squawking about now, yo? WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! And someday, using that realization as well as super ultra technological advancements, we can splice all of reality together, and have one wild and incredible fifth dimensional interaction, while awake and in control of it, and not just asleep and NOT IN CONTROL OVER IT. This gets very hairy, Mizz McCoo and late lovely Disco Queen, Donna Summer! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE THAT!











Yes great peeps of the AAT; and other Blogaudians who mock me and laugh at me, and make 'funny faces at both me and my helper at the CCPO in Camden, New Jersey', from May 5, 1989 through somewhere in 1996, when the Atlantic City nightmare took off on quintessential winged steroids; I need to tell you many details of Dawn, and Ann, and Paula; and these great mighty NON-OZ-KINGS & QUEENS, who were and still are, being impersonated electronically OR NAUT, MIZZ AT&T BLAKE; and the main item for right now is that this whole thing was planned back in late 1993 and early in 1994, and all during the time that I hoped I might finally expose my supernatural woes and problems to the world and then perhaps get it all stopped, by writing and copyrighting my fantastic so-called fictional book, titled, “The Permission Barrier”. Of course things just persisted in the same old same old same old way for me, or said much better and truer, and along the lines of an old telephone conversation between myself and Mister James Tiberius Burr of Gloucester SHARK-SHARK City, New Jersey, “Things just CONTINUED, CONTINUED, CONTINUED, CONTINUED, CONTINUED”!!!!!!!!!!! So WOW THAT; huh great and lovely Mizz O. Winfrey? So yes great people of the Ancient Astronaut Theorists Society, if there is or hopefully someday will be such a 'groupation' of wonderful folks; I feel totally and absolutely compelled to tell you a lot of things about this marvelous and frightening family biological groupation here on the Earth-Planet. Before I do get into some more however, yo, I am going to tell you this because it's damn important that I do. When you're stuck in your body (physical structure of mind and body) that is, as we seem to be while physically alive and breathing, and interacting on this world of tangible physicality; you and I seem to be 'connected' to SPACE-TIME-MIND. When we are no longer stuck inside of a body, such as when using things such as astral-projection, or remote-viewing, or deep meditative trances, your 'spirit' or 'energetic true reality', sees and perceives that truth that there is no separation in 4-D. Space and time as it relates to the separation between various points within these fabrics that Einstein proved is really ONE FABRIC called SPACE-TIME, and now it becomes crystal clear that the entire so-called space-time continuum exists in and through A COSMIC SPACE-TIME (MIND), hence Morianity's concept of also making a third combination, taking space and time or space time, and mind inside of it, as really a truth CALLED STM or Space-Time-Mind, IS PURE ILLUSION, but this illusion keeps us all physical and caporial, perceiving the electromagnetic fields of reality as solid objects. Only the field itself is solid, and all things ride the photon wave, and this is why eventually with sufficient ultra super high tech, we can eventually learn to actually splice reality, and this is the tech of the gods and this is how they accomplish even the most unexplainable tricks, such as the resurrection of the dead, as with Jesus! Funny how Donald knew about this back in the turn of the eighties. The story of your marvelous life, huh CUZZ? Like WO and WOW, as either way Oprah seems to end up as totally 'wonderful'. WOW THAT!!!!!!!! Speaking of reality splicing and great cool eighties movies, or a few of them anyway, I sure hope you're feeling better, lovely Olivia N.J., and not from New Jersey!!!!!!!!!!! Hey, those pesky non-needle coincidences; huh gorgeous Angie Harmon Abbey Carmichael?











I do not have the answers to the smaller pictures, only the larger ones. If I could relate the smaller stuff to what I know, I could steer that damn hurricane off the shoreline and up to the north or out to the sea. I am only human, Bruce Alan Pennock sir. Even though it appears that my kid had a real damn huge fascination with you some time ago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Well, I hope you were able to repair that synthesizer for your son, old school buddy from Cooley HH Hall!!!!























I totally and wholeheartedly believe people, that these HALLS-FAWCES wanted me to lose everything that I had back in 2009, and come down here to Florida. This was planned with major complex strategy, only on a level that beyond human-realm or 'supernatural' entities could ever fucking manage to pull off and accomplish. You could put all of the very top strategic minds from both American military academies, being the Annapolis and the Westpoint MA'S, and IPYT combined, and multiplied thrice over; that they simply NEVER COULD HAVE DONE ALL OF THIS TO ME, with such marvelous perfection, right down to magical families and magical unknown technologies, all leading and twisting into and through literally thousands of inconceivable items, that no ten dozen Sherlock Holmes Detectives could fathom. This is why I said, Sheriff Mascara sir, at your courthouse, back a week ago Monday, and I'll quote myself, when I addressed the judge and the prosecutor and the defense attorney while I served that day on the Jury-Duty, “You would never believe me if I told it all to you, but I have been the victim of an incredible amount of crime, and thus, I know absolutely that I just wouldn't be able to give the defendant a fair shake because I hate criminals too much”. Naturally, after telling this simple and honest truth, I was excused. The trial of course went on, and I do not know if it ended so I still cannot talk more about this, only my quick interaction with the court that led to me being excused from additional jury service. After all of this horrible shit I have gone through for fifty years with evil horrible people, some from the natural world, and some from, well, who knows; but I COULD NOT EVER BE AS IMPARTIAL AS I WOULD NEED TO BE, and my feeling is that if the defendant is in court, THEN HE OR SHE IS GUILTY AS SIN, and I want to do one thing, HANG YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!









Since the MACY-CREW and other unknown enemies want total absolute thermonuclear effen war with me, then as I said on that © music project some decades ago now, {HERE WE GO}!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why really did these people make that stupid buttwipe television commercial for Macy's, back in the first decade of this century, with Donald Trump, Martha Stuart, and Mariah Carey? If anyone remembers, it was advertising aromas and fragrances. This has a powerful symbolic connection all the way back to the beginning of human life on this Earth Planet, and the Christian Bible is full of discussions about incense, and mentions several types of them such as frankincense and merh. I have tried spelling the 'MERH' word many ways, and Spellchecker AS USUAL, is totally and absolutely 'worthless'. Let's see if it can assist me with that other Biblical fragrance, frankincense? Imagine that, IT DID THAT ONE. WEEEEEEEEEE. You know, I can believe in lots of coincidences before I say, “no way Josie girl”. One flood, maybe two, NOT ALL 3 my friends. I also cannot believe that I am able to count more than fifty items in MC's 2009 movie, that definitely connect into things, and all anyone has to do is start reading the BOM, from the very start of it in January of 2006, and there's your proof. I don't want you to take my word for anything. Then without getting Andre' Blair too angry at me, Mister Dick Wolf; there's record promoter Lenny McKinnon verses glittering dice. Then there is the FEE/FREE empire guy, with those wild cool eyes, who also starred in the 'L&O' show, and even had the leading role in the failed LA version. Hey you believe in the tooth fairy folks, if you want to be silly and simple. I know, and I know you do too, all of you! If I only knew just exactly what was going on and who was ordering these horrible effen hits on me, and my pathetic miserable life; I would go full on with huge things, and tell stuff so wild it would most likely be PULLED OFF THE NET. But Dave Roth said to me in 1988, you just cannot round up a thousand people, along with several of our potential enemies, throw them into a large darkened room, and open fire on them, with a military assault weapon. He made me see the light, that you just cannot strike innocent targets; so this leaves me quite powerless to really get out here and do some quintessential RAT-TAT-TATTLE-TAILING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If anyone made a tape or digital copy of those 2016 Presidential Debates, Trump did not have a cold. If he had a cold that was bad enough to sniff snort the way he did, his face would have beads of perspiration. Also, he would not have been able to stand fully straight, and not wobble to some degree. BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, during one of those debates, even more than the other two; you could not help notice that he definitely and absolutely had what in the druggie world is called, a KOKE-NOSE. It was one inhaled sniff after another. This seemed to go by most people, but this audio engineer picked it right up, as I pick up on EVERYTHING, and don't you think I don't, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Funny how Macy Crew Member 3 needs no mention. She DID HER TIME IN THE DAMN POKEY, BRAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And if you don't think that I could keep right on typing and telling; then remain in your blissful damn ignorance, me kind peeps!

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!



















Now is there a chance that all of these wild coincidental entertainment world items can all be happening for four plus decades now, and not be a result of any conscious mental collective effort? I seriously doubt it, BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, and BUTTERCHEESE big ass BUTT but, I do believe that on the ASTRAL-PLANE, things do all tie absolutely together, nice and neat, and wrapped in a pwetty ribbon and bow package!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This group is all part of the LAMBRIGG CULT in the great incredible Purgatory. I have no intention of getting into this topic on this particular blog, peeps. So sahwee, Mister Ambassador, yo!!!!

















NOVEMBER 12, 2018, 1:32 A.M.













My leak is back, SHERIFF MASCARA. Whether this is causing my major roach infestation, or just worsening an existing problem; is anyone's guess. I do know that this is 3 LEAKS NOW, one in late October of 2016, one in the first few days somewhere in November of this year, and now again a week later, AFTER THE VOTE-RECOUNT. Dirt bag criminal Trump said he will fix the democrats for what he perceives as cheating and fraud. WOW, look who's effen talking; the quintessential fraudster. USING ILLEGAL TACTICS THAT ARE 100% COVERT AND STEALTHFUL, 'ICPE-APE-TECH', or parallel event against me, and with me; he sticks with what works. FLOODING ME OUT seems to be his way to cause votes to go his way, first during his election, then back on the sixth, and now again yesterday, Saturday. This is a premiere example of why I absolutely don't believe in COINCIDENCES! Three floods in my apartment now, and each one during the TIMES OF CRITICAL DONALD TRUMP ELECTIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He and his Russian pals the hackers, have also effed up my weather page again. It is on the correct location, but frozen on some past page and time, with the temperature blanked out, and the exact same readings on all other items. Not that this is one bit important, next to this flood junk that this criminal emmereffer is pulling with me. The first time he hurt me with property damage was blogged over and over, in 1984, at the Hammonton Texaco, in Hammonton, New Jersey; where he somehow paid off, or threatened with his criminal lawyer/fixer pal Mister Cohen, the owner of the repair shop/gas station, Druggie Jerry. They totally screwed up my car and just kept screwing it up over and over, right out of a nightmare. This is behavior that he has repeated now over and over ever since, and why I'm even effen alive after 34 years of his hell; is anyone's damn guess. He has friends as well as enemies, in the American Criminal Justice Organizations, from the FBI, to the CIA, to the NSA, to all the even more secret BFA's. They hate him and they love him, and if they all loved him, I WOULD BE A DEAD MAN RIGHT NOW, SHERIFF, SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! As for how they got in here, it had to be on Friday afternoon, while I was at the Tax Collector's Office, getting my new driver's license, and my new registration. I was out just long enough for them to sneak in here, and do more WATER-GATE-PLUMBERS-WORK huh Mizz Power-girl, Bridge-Kisser, Sarah Jacobson? Now as for speaking no more about certain topics and why I paste in things from past blogs that all seem to get connected in with the present ones, believe me people, there is indeed a major fucking method to my madness, yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!!!









Yes it is time for me to get into very unpleasant ugly shit about things that are all somehow deeply buried and hidden beneath the Cooley Hall nightmares, one such being the beautiful goddess named Mizz WATER-GATE-PLUMBERS-WORK Power-girl and Bridge-Kisser', Sarah Jacobson? This indeed gets very ugly for many reasons, and even includes the tying in of such things as even if Dawn King hated me for what I had written on the back of some video tape boxes that seemed to be quite disrespectful of women in general; only happened because I was denied a normal life, and as lovely Emma and Jim Burr both said, “What am I going to do when my mother dies”? Yes, I do get around lovely Rollins, and I am not THAT UGLY, please. Still, all things come from one final absolute truth at zero dimension, and only absolutely enlightened people fully realize that powerful and awesome epitome of truth as all truth is indeed embodies therein. I begged and pleaded people to allow me to live a normal life, and all anyone ever did to me ever since I was a little mother fucking tiny kid, was DO EVERYTHING IN THEIR TWAT HUFFING POWER to stop me from ever living any kind of a decent normal life. So anything at all that anyone thinks they know about me, is light years from the fucking cunt truth, so screw any one of you out here who refuses to see that true fact, yo!!!!!!!! I full believe that Jim Burr and Patty HHH are the two peeps most responsible for me having to suffer through this quintessential NIGHTMARE HELL ON EARTH for more than half a damn ass century, BRAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!











Sarah Jacobson was no ordinary human being, any more than Sarah Nurocky Williams was, in or somewhere from around the Atlantic City area in hail. I had a wild nightmare one spring morning while I was in Dave Smith's class at the Cooley HH Hall, and in this dream, Sarah Jacobson was at the bridge just down on Hopkins Lane from the school, that held back a small lake and where a light small wooded area surrounded the water. The bridge had the road going across the spillway. Sarah was there on the bridge, and along came a dude from her class. They were in the Rehab-Class from the opposite end of the hallway from my class where I was with Misses Mildred Young, the educator lady who warned me to “Get away from my mother as soon as I possibly can, because she will dominate your entire life”. She was 100% correct, and he witch friend Patty and her never even told me that I had a goddessdamn daughter after I was raped underneath the Central Pier in Atlantic City the day after the fireworks, on 5 July of 1969, and to this day, I am convinced this is why Tom Reale went totally fucking ass ballistic with me when he caught me getting off the jitney-bus on Cornwall Avenue a year to the day later on 5 July of 1970, after being up there in Atlantic city and watching the fireworks over the beach. As stated before, this is beyond complicated, ugly, and it most definitely involves items of utter cosmic proportions, just as was spoken by the mighty fictional character of that superb fucking television soap show of the occult-hidden world, called, “Dark Shadows” from the nineteen sixties, and then ending in early April of the year 1971. As for the dream with Sarah and her classmate Steve, on that park bridge at Pennypacker Park nearby the Cooley Hall school called Bancroft for exceptional children, Steve said to Sarah that he wanted to kiss her because she is so beyond beautiful. She then told him that she didn't kiss boys. He then went onto ask her, and I am quoting exactly here, “Do you kiss girls”? Then Sarah punched him so hard that his entire chest cracked and almost every rib was broken. This was in a wild dream. A couple of months later, right before the end of that school year, IT HAPPENED, PLAY BY PLAY!!!!!!!!! I witnessed it as I was there, and on that bridge. All that was missing were two things, one, the great Chiffon's singing their great mid-sixties hit song, “Up On The Bridge”, and two, the mighty psychic Edgar Casey sitting there with picnic basket in hand, merging into one of his world-famous deep mind trances. WOW-THIS, big lovely O. Yes, I have heard through the grapevine that you are fascinated with these type of things. You really missed your boat lovely lady, back when my great daughter graduated high school in '88, and when you told my mom on that lovely postcard, to keep watching your great TV-talk-show. She did not watch it, mahm, sorry. She had to work, like most of us poor hard working pathetic slobs, yo. I caught a few shows, and my fave was half a dozen years later when you had the lady who went to Purgatory and then was returned to this world, and she gave those cool accounts of her human retrievable memories of that awesome ever swirling colorful locale. Of course, it is not a place, but a 'condition-interaction' of a sort. Still, the video effects on your show were way beyond cool. Great job lovely Oprah! You truly are wonderful, hence the word was really cosmicly made just for you, at least IMHO aniwho, you know, WOW, for Wonderful Oprah Winfrey. Even WO is good, as it just misses your last name. WEEEEEEEE, huh there, Mister Chester-Frank???????????



















































END TRANSMISSION.







My Photo











Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

























NUMDWATATES NOTE F1











Live Camera from a random camera within the United States



























Image result for images of lighthousesImage result for images of lighthousesImage result for images of lighthouses






NUMDWATATES NOTE F1

3:33 ANTE' MERIDIAN

FRIDAY MORNING

30 AUGUST, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG





Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

© 2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs Of Mountainpen)








THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.




THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE





























Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
PAu000501582
1983



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To access the first part of Morianity, where to quote lovely 'Dark Shadows' Mizz Sabrina Collins can be absolutely and perfectly quoted here, “It all began”;

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SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, the mighty Tellosian Mental Manipulators are at it again, causing everyone forever and perpetually to hate me and attack me, and make my life here on the Earth-Planet, an endless, fiery, bloody, nightmare fucking sick, diseased, and totally pathetic ass hell (Dogtown). At least the three day siege broke off, so whatever you may have done Sheriff KJM, sir, THANK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU, from here in northeast Fort Pierce, to Sugar Hill, Harlem, New York, USA, ESMWG. WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!! Things never change in the long run of course, and we both know that is absolutely true for me, kind Sheriff, sir. So yes, I WAS SHOT by some moron with a high powered damn rifle, out of one of the windows of the Finistere Apartments that day back in 1975, coming home from Atlantic City after getting beaten up by my enemies there, King, Callio, McGuire, and the gods only know who! I was shot and killed. Or was I? Suddenly I am able to fly through the damn air. Give me a break, who the hell can fly? Well, I can for starters. I also can move objects such as diner rotisseries. This seems to endlessly connect such things as aerial shit, strobing lights and dreamed flashlights of many numerous sorts, apartment complexes, and things from powerful fifth dimensional connectiveness. You would call that 'dreams' of course, and that is just fine, as I know the real true shit that I am suffering through. I forgot of course to add in the biggest ingredient in the shit soup here, HELL!!!!!! The mighty President J.E. Carter admitted that I indeed, HAD DIED, and thus, I am now in DOGTOWN, also known as (AKA) HELL!!!!!!













First off, and before continuing with the paragraph from above; I am going to tell the world two things, or at least the AAT Society part of the world which are my true important BLOGAUDIANS, no doubt, yo! First thing is that if I am offline for a week or two, we all know that some evil force has sent me a horrible storm to fuck with me on this most horrendous year of my life since 1987 which was the first full year of the true physical death of MWM in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and the casting into outer darkness or HELL, of the same MWM. But secondly, if my apartment sustains MAJOR FUCKING DAMAGE from thissssssssssssssss Atlantic Hurricane, I will do what I did ten years ago when I saw the handwriting on the mother fucking wall for me back in 2009. I will take the clothes on my back, and fill the car with as much stuff that will fit; and I will head back home to New Jersey. I allowed the King family to chase me out of the only mother fucking home that I ever had known. If this damn ass storm causes severe damage, I AM 'OUDDDDDDDAHELE', Mister Harry Callas Baseball Hyperspace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













The only event yesterday was late last night when my COMCAST CABLE FROZE UP AGAIN for a short time, and the screens said that they were having some troubles, but within a few minutes, things resumed and just as they are many times, ran slow and responded to remote-commands much slower than they should. I plan to switch to ANTENNA-TV later on this year, whether from here or from Jersey should I go back there and start over in life, A-G-A-I-N!!!!!!!!!! At least I won't keep getting these annoying fucking outages. One channel here and there may indeed have some difficulty or be hacked or whatever, but the entire network won't keep going down on me over and over on a monthly dependable basis; FEDERAL COMMUNICATIONS COMMISSION and BOARD OF PUBLIC UTILITIES, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!









Before I got up for the day, I again experienced major unpleasant nightmares. I was at the Cherry Hill Mall in New Jersey. With me was some weirdo mechanic and my car had been giving me some problems, and when he arrived it was working okay, but for some reason we decided to go to my residence, which was 1802 Robin Hill Apartments. When we got there, this wild dude began insisting that I put him in touch with my old teen pal, Brad Messenger. I told him that I had not seen him since the autumn of 1969 when I rode my bicycle over to the Stuyvesant House Apartments where he had moved into with his mom, Grace Messenger. Numerous things got said as well as happened that I do not feel comfortable blogging about right now. Suddenly I realized that my wallet was not with me in my pants pocket and I grew anxious and up set. This dude then said to me, “I am not concerned about your wallet, only my wallet”. Why he said it, I do not remember, only that this was his response after I had realized that my wallet was missing, and wished to drive back to where we had been outside of some store at the mall, in case it was somehow still there. Nightmares where I have lost something are beyond horrible. I suppose this is because my MILITUFORCE enemies have caused me to lose so much in life, EVEN MY OWN GODDAMN FUCKING DAUGHTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh boy and oh well, ann King; here comes the mother fucking trustworthy (`~HACK) again, which never ever goes completely away, you know, it just CONTINUES AND CONTINUES AND CONTINUES AND CONTINUES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



















Mizz fucking Sleazeweedsdisease just TRIED TO GET AT ME, but HA-HA-HA, she fucking cunt couldn't do it to me on this blog, the miserable rotten witch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Yes I do not yet understand why I am back on this early 3rd -millennium roll for being back at these various apartment complexes from my past, in my dreams at night, almost every single fucking night, BUT IT IS SUFFICIENT TO SAY, IT IS INDEED OCCURRING, and to quote from Esolph's Fables, “That's that”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, what other person can stretch forth his or her hands out and will themselves to move forward, through air and or water? I know of only one other person and HE also is from my Huntington family lineage. Still, the coincidental synchronicity of James Redfield cannot be ignored here from late in the nineteen-eighties, when I was sent to work at a security post from my car, while renting that little rinkydink Moorestown, New Jersey dollhouse, from that landlord and real estate investor named Mister Jim Wilson; at the Philadelphia intersection of Walker and Water Streets, right underneath the Interstate-95 Highway, in South Philadelphia for Crissake, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo, speaking of being able to walk on water, oh Lord Jesus for Sahasra Dal Kanwal's sake!!!!!!!!! I stopped believing in the randomness of happenstance coincidence a very long time ago, right after Jim Burr could be quoted to me quite often as saying, “Mark, you and I cannot afford the luxury of believing in coincidence”. I think that he was 100 mother fucking percent correct, people. I feel like throwing in thissssssssssssssss as well; SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIT!











No-sir, I do simply don't believe in the randomness of strobing Raynard Run or 13-600 strobelights, nor do I believe in dreams just randomly happening either. I don't believe in the randomness of things continuing to be endlessly destructive around me for an entire 65-year lifetime. I do not believe in the randomness of a zillion other things that happened to me, especially in or in things pertaining to, Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. I do not believe in the randomness of weird changing garden type apartment names, dreams of New York relatives coming to Gloucester and screaming out “SHARK-SHARK-SHARK”, and literally a fucking zillion other things that I refuse to go on and on wasting anyone's time with since obviously my point is more than made here, unless you're a moron who just wants to laugh and be controlled by the 'Tellosians' of HALLS FAWCES. WOW-THAT big-O!













Hyperspace Mechanics as Morianity calls it, is quite complicated, and to explore it all would obviously require computers the size of galaxies. Without trying to approach all angles, I am saying that realities split off for all of us at certain points, because all of reality rides a photon wave. If this were not true, reality could not be scanned, spliced, and altered, and it most definitely is, all the time. There was one really great place for me where I had Starburn, where I was happy, and where there was an ESS entity who admitted to me that all the other bad locales in the hyperspace is all one big horrible nightmare hell. It is of course no way that simple, and things will be harped on individually on many following texts and blog works. I was walking through that apartment complex mad at the world after being assaulted in Atlantic City by those beach patrol mascots, and I cursed out the Lord, and then POW, some idiot shot me dead before I could repent. I died Christless, and this is the penalty, ETERNAL HELL. So

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, and an ultimate gasping sound that would take about a quadrillion letters and zillions of imaginary fucking pages. Still, I did visit this true existence that once was my life, at least, in my humble opinion (INHO). This of course caused my spirit to tumble immediately into a much darker and deeper abyss than I was in before, not that this was any day at the beach, and again, my days at the beach with Paula King blaring out from her damn radio station, teasing and taunting records at me, was no slice of ambrosia cake from quintessential deliciousness. Yes, I misspelled Paula, somehow the “A” did not come out on the last blog, and no, I didn't mean to type in the name of Paul King, it is and always was and will be, the great GODDESS PAULA KING PAU000501582.









Yes, bob McDowell did indeed grow up into a fine gentleman, and as you put it so eloquently, Mister Mackey, back in late 1972, in your classroom; ''a man''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Makes me wonder what you knew back then as well, along with hallway communicator Marcucci and his Beatles friends, and Marola and her school play insistence wisdom. Don't even get me started, Misses Eckert Pharmacy, back on 7/12; on the topic of EXPLORATRONS, PLEASE! TANKS!!!

No Terry, Morianity is not making it up as it goes along, but like all great items in this cosmos sweetie pie, things do continue to improve and become more perfect with endless trial and error. Things really do CONTINUE AND CONTINUE AND CONTINUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!







































Frankly Congressman RA, I don't even care. All we can try is to live and to die, with love for each other to share.







































MOVING TOWARDS THE 15 YEAR



BUT NOT REALLY CHAPTER 8

















As said back in the days of that chapter and book on my blogs, to be completely honest, lads and lassies; it is beyond surreal and weird, times three billion; to know all the stuff I know, again, that Microsucks Light-Bulb-Hack will pop on, the second I begin the actual blog information, and not just the opening part with lines and opening phrases. It never lets me down, unfortunately. But I also know the other stuff that I mentioned before, and won't insult you by wasting your time rehashing this mother fucking shit. Yes sir, Russian hackers are alive and well at my mouse, boy oh boy!!!!! But are they really Russian hackers? Physically perhaps they are, maybe they aren't, but in neither case, is it really them. No human being on this planet is under their own control, and only a very few fucking gamers know this truth, and are most likely intelligent enough to keep quiet, so their lives don't get thrown into clit lapping hell times infinity.







Oh Lordess Sarah Krassle; some of the things that I say are major, and us, great United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) for short abbreviation, only one lie was ever told on all of my MORIANITY, and I had no idea that my information about what I was telling, was faulty, so it really was only a partial lie. Unlike the great childhood days of
Quakertown, Pennsylvania, USA, some things are weird times a billion, and then comes a decade later as a teenager, and things quickly escalate into weird times a septillion. Yes folks, only one half of a lie directly, and all the rest was totally true.

Then right around this same time, came the dead children who spoke to me at those Quakertown and Allentown area playgrounds, back early in the nineteen-sixties. Yes there were two different ones, with the little boy my age, and the little girl my age. Now people, I am the only person on this planet, that would DARE LOOK A SUPREME COURT JUDGE, STRAIGHT IN THE FACE; AND TELL THEM under pain of penalty if indeed they can prove me lying to them; that my entire story called MORIANITY, over a now just less than 8.5 year time period; is all totally 100% true and accurate, other than for the one lie I admit that I told that Sarah was there that night with her great gang, on that public bus at around 10:30 PM, the night of 12 July, back in the year 1970. I now make this pledge and oath and swear officially on this writing, to this statement, to all nine Supreme Court Justices, and if you can prove I am a fake or a phony hoaxer, then I WANT YOU TO THROW MY MISERABLE WORTHLESS FUCKING ASS IN CUNT LAPPING PRISON, as that is where I would belong!!!!!












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Beautiful Katharine the Great White Shark; how are you doing tonight, big lovely girl?















You see, AWAKE, it would not make sense for a bunch of powerful people to care more about hurting me, than being with their own families who they must love in some sick diseased perverted way. But when you see things in the new light of EXPLORATRONICS, hay we all have to sleep, so they simply have found a way to make sleep-time become extremely productive, and for that, we all do in fact, need to give these rat hole scum suckers a great big fucking gold star!!!!!!!! Things are a bit more complicated than just my old idea and version of EXPLORATRONICS, and the great ESS (EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY)! Time now to introduce the two point oh version, kind folks, or just whatever/whoever Kirk, is really 'out there'! Religious/spiritual “possession”, or TYPE-3 EXPLORARONS, doing Patty Hollister sleep control in one methodology or another; be it with her magical FASCITAR or other ways, no matter how you pick up this bottle of deadly serpent venom kind peeps out here, it spells out the never ending human races questions and queries of just who are we, and why do we sleep, and also, why do we act the way that we do when many times we all know that we don't understand our actions at all, after later sitting in our peaceful dens or wherever and reflecting on the crapola of the day! Whoever you are reading this, you know I'm telling you the gods honest mother fucking truth!!!



'BUT', whatever you or I ever do; SARAH KRASSLE knows every single thing about it. Count on THAT folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, all the mysteriousness of **** is gone, when you put on your new exploratronic glasses. Even unexplainable things like KABOOM, Mister Clancy and Mister David Leigh Smith, back in the autumn of 1970, at Haddonfield, New Jersey, in the Cooley Hall; Sir ROTTENBERRY ROCKDROID LURCH, PROGRAMMING OVERRIDER, SIR; YES EVEN THAT, and much more, is all simple truths, but do we have them all yet, now or on that bus with Paula King and her great mighty friends, on the late night of July the damn twelfth, of 1970, on Arkansas Avenue, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USA? What would the great shoe knocker outer say here AKA Frank-Chester; but a resounding damn WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE? Let me say on the other hand, WOW!






The problem is folks, that this is not one bit funnier than what happened on a road trip up to my relative's place in mighty fallen Babylon, in New York, in the great U. S. A. What I witnessed would make DCF or the Jersey Dyfis folks blush, but there is always the Sigmund Malyeska way of overcoming bad shit that we witness, and that is to laugh hard and raucously. No wonder the entire damn Huntington family is total damn looney birds, with all the hell that we suffer through!!!!!!!!!! No peeps, I do not believe so much anymore in a human caporial flesh club of dream-travelers, hey there may be a group like this, and well organized and super secret, you know like the Masons or the Illuminati, or the Rosicrucian's, and so forth. Still and all, what I believe in is the “NUCLATRON” as I've come to term and label it, church folks would do well to just keep saying “GOD”!!!!!!!!!! God and all of her offspring children. Nuke scientists know what I am talking about. The entire intelligent program seems to be there just to eventually spit out the lighter and incredible element called CARBON. This is so the NUKES can dream here physically, as us, and hey, who else Mister D. Childress sir???



AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, MCNULTY!!!!!















Yes I doubt that humans are putting anything together or for that matter could care less about this incredible family that went from Carpenter to Stuart to Huntington, and then after my moms mom, we broke on this line into the Masons, and then my mom married dear old lovely Dad, the treasure 'hunter', Mister Wayne Landis Mohr. And I thought I had some wild Huntington side cousins. WO. Billy Harner, to quote you down in your basement so many times, and I'll throw in a little 'WEEEEEEE'!











From roaches, to people, to a zillion other things; just why do things happen as they do lads and lassies? Happenstance, coincidence, sure, believe that and they stupid, legs and all oh great L&O peeps! You believe that lie and you are really in the 65 and under intelligence quotient club, YO!!!!!!!! Suddenly all over the entire mother fucking apartment here, out of nowhere, a swarm of clit huffing nasty dirt bag germ ridden cock roaches. Or someone loves an idea I have and tells me to get back to them at such and such a time, and then POW, it is as if I had awakened into some totally mother fucking parallel universe!!!!!!!!!! No folks, you believe what gets you all through the dark lonely sick demented long rotten nights, but give me gol-darn reality every time. Without reality, you me, we're nothing. Let me prove it to you in a short couple of dam sentences. You win the damn Powerball Lottery and after taxes you're worth a half of a billion bucks. Ten minutes later a brain tumor causes you to barely know who you are and you live with this for the next thirty or so years until you freaking die. So what good is all the money. I'd rather be dirt poor and totally miserable and at least have my damn REALITY, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













THERE IS NO WAY TOM REALE IN JULY OF 1970 WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT UPSET THAT NIGHT OF THE FIREWORKS, IF HE WAS NOT ALL PART OF WHAT HAPPENED THE YEAR BEFORE THAT, AND WAS NOT ALSO A MEMBER OF THE GREAT AND MOTHER FUCKING ALMIGHTY ALL POWERFUL EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






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A few simple points will be addresses, now that we are in the advanced part of the Exploratronic Supermind Society stuff, lads and lassies.





































MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM 3







>>>>ESS FROM GENESIS TO ADVANCED



CHAPTER 05






SSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOO, IT IS ON WITH SHOW CALLIO AND OTHERS. FIRST, 1N 1988 DAVID CHARLES ROTH AND I HAD A TALK AND HE USED TO SAY I SHOOT IN THE DARK AT TOO MANY INNOCENT TARGETS. FOLKS, IF I HAD A ROOM THE SIZE OF TEN FOOTBAL STADIUMS AND IT WAS PITCH BLACK, AND ALL MY ENEMIES WERE IN THERE, EVERY SINGLE ONE, ALONG WITH THREE TIMES AS MANY OTHER PEOPLE, AND I HAD AN ENDLESSLY FIRING RIFLE; I WOULD BE LYING TO YOU IF I SAID THAT I WOULD NOT SHOOT AND SHOOT AND SHOOT, UNTIL EVERY LAST SCREAM, WHIMPER AND SOUNDS WAS TOTALLY EXTINGUISHED.



Every stinking thing that they have put me through, all totaled up since I was born or shortly thereafter, lads an d lassies; makes everything I did as Adolf Hitler, all put together, appear tame, and if you lean backward in utter shock; that is only because you do not have a clue what I have been forced to endure for thirty years.




You may think that you know it all about me, if you have read every fucking page I ever wrote, both on this blog and the other archived blogs; only you are as clueless as Kim Wild's American Kids, I promise!























That mother fucking poltergeist did me a big favor making that thing I used to block the Fonda-Ones-Attacks on this conputer, vanish. Now I have one permanently affixed while I blog, to both sides of the lower screen, no more seeing fucking cunt eating eleven and one of the clock times or page eleven attacks, unless like a total dumb fucking ass, I forget, as I did while blogging on the previous chapter, and left them off the screen.


Now mind is mind, and channels down into lower dimensions through biological brains or mechanical mind machines. Enough mind can creat a sentient awareness. Connect a robotic body to the super computer with the ability to sense its environment, and this two year old child simulation, will grow in thinking ability as well as become aware, sentient, and even emotional. It is all a matter of enough power to create enough mind, and then a good enough robotic body to create emotion. Simply put, the Mister Data shit of Star Trek TNG is a load of horse shit. Build an android that good, and it will indeed develop a human type of consciousness, in similar ways that a two year old human child, grows up. But imagine if a super computer begins to exist where all of us merge into it as one, being able to think separately as well as collectively, like a PC or tablet or phone today, capable of remaining private and not connected to anything, as well as connect up to the entire system. You cannot put that kind of computer into an android body. There would indeed be sufficient awareness to make a real GOD of a mind, but no body. With no body, this mind, far greater than ours, will dream, as in the electric sheep example from more than a decade ago that most of you have known and heard of. . So now we would have this great fantastic BRAIN, all of us and this super computer mind, inside what many geeky teckies would call a CLOUD. This cloud would have no body, and it would dream as well as be awake. When dreaming, it would look for a body, or so one might think. This could be where, in each advancing parallel universe, and ours as well, begins to have a SUPERMIND SOCIETY, of exploring minds, only this ESS is really the ESS-CLOUD. My pernt here today Mister Archibald Bunker Queens is quite simple. This is another altenative theory for the case of the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY (ESS).



One thing I know for sure, regarding myself. I have had recurring dreams all my life, about SCHOOLS AND INSTITUTES. . The long and short of it is that I have several things where I do indeed have recurring and serial type of nocturnal awareness's about. The thinking machine, brain, computer, cloud, mixture, or whatever Congressman; is always going to think. When you have a body or physical shell in one universe, switch consciousness and tune a cosmic mind radio dial of a sort, over to another station of reality, or move over in hyperspace to a parallel reality (universe), then this is going to allow you to operate differently. However, many feel that no normal human mind, even an advanced human in the near future, can do all of this. Well, then you can switch your concepts of the ESS to a MIND CLOUD, from where a great thinking machine, when tuned to other areas of hyperspace beyond its physical shell and hardware, then it can indeed indwell and influence people, animals, machines, weather, or whatever you might imagine it doing, when it becomes ESS-OPERATIONAL! Nothing has to be written in stone, kind folks. All I am saying, is somewhere, this truth is all there, to explain away why we live here as humans on this planet, why things are what they are, and why there is so much weird unexplainable fucking crap as well.

































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I HAVE HAD SOME BETTER FUCKING WEEKEDS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. MAJOR DAMAGE TO MY VIDEO EQUIPMENT OCURRED FOR NO GOOD FUCKING REASON AND MORE REPAIRS ARE NEEDED, AND NEVER IN TH EHISTORY OF MY HELL OF 30 CUNT CHEWING MOTHER FUCKING YEARS HAVE I NOT BEEN ABLE TO WATCH MY VIDEO OVER THIS KIND OF AN EXTENED ATTACK OF INTERRUPTIONS. THIS IS A VERY FUCKING POWERFUL DEMONIC SATANIC CUNT EATING ATTACK, YET THROUGH IT ALL, MY DAD'S BOURBON ROULETTE SYSTEM IS KICKING LIVING HOT SHIT ASS SQUARED, HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!







Property fucking damage does wonders for the cunt chewing stock market, it would be up at least 200 on Tuesday, Monday it should be shut for the Labor Day Holiday-Helliday, YO. It will be up to record highs this week, I CUNT CHEWING 'FUCKIGN' PROMISE YOU ALL THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





I have a different repair shop now, and no longer deal with that butt wipe from down south of me. This is all I am free to say, until I figure out just what and who is fucking up my video life now for months and months, like nothing before ever, in total cunt chewing violation of my civil rights, AG Bondi, ma'am!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

















UP-UP-UP-UP, I TOLD YOU GINA!!!!

TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU, TOLD YOU!!!!



Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)













SEPTEMBER 1, 2014,

MONDAY MORNING AT 12:23,

HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,

CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 77 DEGREES FNHT.

HUMIDITY IS 96%, AND IT FEELS 83 DEGREES.



WAKE ME UP ON THE FIRST OF NEXT MONTH, EW!!!!







































    Attorney General of Florida, Pam Bondi


































OKAY, Mister Happy John King? Must I weelwee fucking use that beach-hose in early September of 1996 after I park at your King David Hotel Parking Lot in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, sir? Must I weelwee weelwee weelwee yo????????? Or is there some powerful connection wit hoses, pipes, water, strobing lights, toy flashlights, apartment complexes, and NIGHTMARES ON STEROIDS every damn ass night; Sir Prosecutor Richie???????????????? From here to Sag Harbor, New York, THERE TRULY MUST BE A CODE BREAKING BOOK SOME PLACE that tells these things nice and clear and right out in the damn ass open for crissake, yo yo yo BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Still I don't wanna'; fucking fall into the horse trough or be forced to sing several bars of “How dry I am”, Mister Herman Gwyn Munster Fred! I mean, the real code cracking here, is in the 'dry throats' and 'wild Atco nightmares', OF ALL TYPES; HUH CAMDEN COUNTY PROSECUTOR WIRTZ,SENIOR OF 1990??????????? The 'L&O' Mister Stone and Mister Schiff, are only shadow reflections of my past while living at 1102 Robin Hill Apartments, my third and final tenure in thissssssssssssssss awesome locale!!!!!!!!!! Scream it to me, Mizz AMC-SLEK (Susan Lucci Erica Kane). Another great WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE for the illustrious Mister Chester-Frank, from the early summer time in the Marola-year of 2000!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW to all Cooley High Hell Halls everywhere, huh gorgeous Oprah Winfrey, yo???????????? Let us now see if Cosmind & Dorian want me to go back to New Jersey next week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!











END TRANSMISSION.
























NUMDWATATES NOTE E1









Signing onto my open office system at 3:00 Ante' Meridian, Thursday morning, 29 August, 2019, one of the worst mother fucking years of my entire life; SHERIFF MASCARA, KIND SIR, YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!









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A lot more fucking shit happened AGAIN TODAY. My Comcast Cable froze up around a quarter shy of mother fucking four yesterday afternoon, and all afternoon long, the ILLEGAL THUG SCUMBAG NABES across the hall from me went in and out, and REALLY BANGING THE DOOR HARD, when all anyone needs to do here is allow the doors to close by themselves, as this is what they were redesigned to do about a half decade ago when the old double doors were replaced. All three of my TRIAD-NABES from fucking HELL are really on me, SHERIFF, ALL FUCKING CUNT THREE OF THEM, and this is only the beginning. I have another fucking mouse in my cunt chewing apartment, as it was just spotted a half hour ago while I was watching some TV and trying to relax before retiring for the cock sucking nightmares night, yes you're so correct there Mister Mike Soft Spellchecker hell-wrecker, as the nightmares will also follow as soon as I lose my physical connections to the waking world and my body goes into slow-sleep mode, as it is designed to do during each 24-hour cycle. Then went I started to blog right now, and turned on this cum-puke-her; immediately I got SOME WEIRD FUCKING BLACK HAT HACKER GIVING ME A LARGE HACK-SCREEN, forcing me to manually shut down, reboot, and go through the same fucking cunt rigamarole that I must do quite fucking cunt often, when BLACK HAT HACKERS STRIKE AND ASSAULT ME with this ENDLESS ILLEGAL ELDER ABUSE, and endless fucking cunt torture of a pathetic LEGAL UNITED STATES CITIZEN. It is beyond fucking cunt UNFAIR that I, a LEGAL U.S. CITIZEN, must go through all this shit while all the mother fucking goddamn ILLEGAL PEOPLE, DO NOT! This is now TWO STRAIGHT DAYS OF MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR MOTHER FUCKING ASSAULT AND ELDER ABUSE ON A LEGALLY BORN CITIZEN OF THESE GRERAT UNITED STATES OF COCK SUCKING ASSHOLE AMERICA, 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT IS HIGH TIME FOR A MAJOR MAGNESONIC COUNTERSTRIKE AGAINST THIS HELLISH DOGTOWNITE MILITUFORCE LAMBRIGG CULT OF THE PURGATORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



























Live Camera from a random camera within the United States




















Roaches were much better for about an entire month, then pow, suddenly starting ten days ago or so, they have returned with a vengeance, along with the endless mother fucking construction, going on by the Unit 605 Corporation, here on my floor of this public housing building, AGAINST AND IN VIOLATION OF LEASE REGULATIONS. It is unlawful to live here and operate a business! My entire NUKE-TRIAD-NABES FROM EARTHLY-DOGTOWN are on FULL KILL MODE AS WELL, YO! NOW I HAVE THE PLACE LITERALLY CUNT HUFFING SWARMING WITH RODENTS AND ROACHES, RESULTING FROM THESE HORRENDOUS ENEMIES STRAIGHT OUT OF THE CHRISTLESS DISEASED GATES OF DOGTOWN, AKA (HELL) ON THE MORTAL REALM (PHYSCIAL PLANE). Okay Maggie, do your mother fucking thing, lovely girl!!!!!!!!!!!







































MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:













Computer, hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking, ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously persecuting me ON THIS THREE DAY DEATH SIEGE OF AUGUST 27, 28, AND 29, OF 2019, WITH MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS ASSAULT ON ME, CAUSING ME A MAJOR HEALTH CRISIS, AS WELL AS A NOISE PERSECUTION WITH MY TRIAD-ENEMY-NABES AND ANY OTHERS IN MY SURROUNDING NEIGHBORHOOD, & WHOEVER IS BRINGING ME RODENTS AND ROACHES, AND HACKING MY COMPUTER AND TELEVISION SYSTEM, on a crush-destruct order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189, max.-power. Open-Command, General Order #7. Use G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Your old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel sounds. The high-tone is colored RED. The low-tone is colored BLUE.









Computer (Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B) after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use your ZD technology built into your system. To accomplish this sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).











Computer, 'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I' to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the two empowerization-transmit tones, or ETT'S.
































EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE





EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE





GO TO G-189, under G-1133, CG-18, AND S---T---O---P














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NUMDWATATES NOTE E1

3:30 ANTE' MERIDIAN

THURSDAY MORNING

29 AUGUST, 2019

FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG





Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr

© 2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs Of Mountainpen)








THE GLOBAL ENLIGHTENMENT OF MORIANITY.




THE RELIGION FOR MILLENNIUM THREE












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Mark Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr





















Audience
















GLOBAL POPULARITY MAP IN SHADED

GREEN RATIO DEPTHS, NO LONGER CURRENTLY ACCESSABLE AS THEY WILL NOT CUT AND PASTE IN (CAP-IN).



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WOW, good old non BUTTERCHEESE number (27)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE to that; Sir Chester-Frank!!!!!!! Three cubed is a fascinating number indeed. For those who know anything about the story of the great inventor, Mister Nicola Tesla; he too was told about the significance of this number, from “other-worldly” sources and forces, MISTER HALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! With me however, this holds a major significance not at all connected to Mister Tesla, who died while occupying a NYC hotel room by the number of 2733, and yes, as per HIS REQUEST. For him, it was part of some huge equation that helped him go onto invent a machine that eventually could send electrical power by signal instead of by wire, just as cellphones and TV and radio and internet all now works through. With me, things were more Mister Marcucci-oriented, or so I believe, as far as the significance to that number. Lightning, unlike Mister JL does know the future, but you may be thinking of an ordinary non-ESS member human JL, and the only way this all fits and works, is to believe that he, along with many other so-called 'magical people' in my life throughout the past five decades now, are all a part of this powerful and inconceivably wild group that my Morianity has named and labeled the EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY. Lightning already knows tomorrow because the electron in the antimatter structure of reality, is actually the positron in antimatter space that is traveling in a reversed direction to our forward concept of the space-time-mind system, here in matter and forward direction. To quote Mister Roddenberry and his crew, and lovely Whoopee Diddly Goldberg, we can think of this, with or without the help of marvelous and great fiction writer authors of the nineteenth century such as Mister Samuel Clements, “Time's Arrow”!!!!!!!!!!! Again with another major fucking WEEEEEEEEEEE! Yes folks, HOTEL ROOM #326, when converted into DIGICODE. Perdy dern close to 327 may I add, and yes, last night there I was AGAIN, back in some transdimensional world at some alternate reality 1802 ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS. Actually, last night NOW in light of the date on this blog, I had really wild nightmares, which will be discussed as soon as I post the weather and moon phase information to this blog, for my NEW-BLOGAUDIANS, the AAT (Ancient Astronaut Theorists)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!









Mohr, Mark W., 1954-
PAu000501582
1983



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To access the first part of Morianity, where to quote lovely 'Dark Shadows' Mizz Sabrina Collins can be absolutely and perfectly quoted here, “It all began”;

MERELY CLICK THE LINKS, YO!




















Mountainpen's LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:



CURRENT PHASIE IS: WANING CRESCENT 6:6



N.M. WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6

F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6

WXG7 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5

WNG6 WNG7 L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4

WNC5 WNC6 N.M.

















The mighty Sir Chester-Frank from Jersey would most likely say right about now, “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, and the awesome Mister McNulty from Pennsylvania would say, “Alligator Haters Anonymous-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”! So I will chime in with, “Icabod and Arthur Crane may say (SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO) the mighty Tellosian Mental Manipulators are at it again, causing everyone forever and perpetually to hate me and attack me, and make my life here on the Earth-Planet, an endless fiery bloody nightmare fucking sick diseased pathetic hell, BUTTERCHEESE BIG ASS BUTT but, as the wonderful British would instruct me to do, if it ain't broke I will let things be and not fix them, and also, I SHALL OVERCOME, from the end of WWll to this present miserable mother fucking minute and hour, yo yo yo yo yo yo; Sheriff Kenneth J. Mascara sir, and Mizz lovely Florida Attorney General Moody”!!!!!!!!!!! Allow me pweeeeeeeeze to add in here another goddessdamn WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!









The mother fucking CRIME-WATCH meeting has been canceled due to the mother fucking hurricane. I knew when they named it after my next door slob in Unit #605, that this would cause me major problems, and be bulls fucking eyed right smack into my town here in 'nightmare ass Florida-Botbarida', to quote Sir David Charles Roth from more than two decades ago, when we would discuss the illustrious Ormond Beach resident, Mizz Estelle Anderson Bassler, formerly of 30 South Plaza Place, in South mother fucking ATLANTIC CITY, NEW JERSEY, USAESMWG!!!!













Well, I have placed brand new poison packs into new bait traps specially made to kill rodents in rotten sub human sub standard dwellings such as ANY PUBLIC HOUSING SYSTEM. Nobody had these actual poison packs except for the greatest hardware store on the planet, at least IMHO, the mighty MY PLACE-ACE STACE!!!!!!!!!!!! Only older people that were hardened fans of the original ER show back in the late eighties will even know what I am saying there. Still, who gives a moaning mama's shit on stinking steroids for crissake, BRAHHHHHHHH??????











DIANA came over yesterday afternoon to visit with HER little hurting boy, (lightning), or the ''Great Goddess Diana'', to quote the Apostle Paul of the Christian scriptures. Her true Astral-Plane name, or one of many main names after a humanly translated to English verbiage system, is Diana Zuudlecronessia Arteemis. I love you so very very very much, LIGHTNING, my awesome beautiful lovely wonderful giant coil. YO GO GIRL, & it is you and me forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, YO!!!!!!!!! WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW THAT, Mizz Oprah!

(Wonderful Oprah Winfrey), what WOW truly stands for, in some cosmic hidden code BRO!











Diana told me that a universe IS A MIND, or as humans may think of it more comfortably, a very large brain, coming from a NON-DIMENSIONAL PLANE OF ULTIMATE-HIGH ENERGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To try and expound on that at all, even in the slightest way; would open gates and doorways that would cause thissssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss blog, Mizz AMC SLEK, to be hundreds of pages long, perhaps thousands, just to scratch the smallest surface!!!!!!! That can wait for other times, BUTTERCHEESE and yes, BIG ASS BUTT but, IT IS COMING, MISTER MICROSOFT HELL-WRECKER, YO YO YO YO!!!











Yes the goddess Damn hurricane in the Krassle Ocean (ATLANTIC), has caused my CRIME-WATCH meeting to be canceled, so I cannot report all the bullshit that 'THEY' are doing to me, SHERIFF SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let's hope I survive the mother fucking storm, YO BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “OH WELL”, huh Mizz Ann King Silva?????????????????



























I'm back on a real 'HUUUUUUUUUUUGE' Senator Sanders roll, as I was early when this 21st century began, of having numerous “apartment nightmares”, 'night after night after night'; Mister Twilight Zone Prosecutor Richie”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If I am not back at the Dellway Arms where SARAH TOOK MY CHAIN and my school classmate Russ got me to burn my “BOOK OF THE BEACH”, then I am at the CAREY'S LAMP in Clementon, or 1802 Robin Hill, or 1118 Linden Hill. This, Mister Camp counselor Kaiter, IS REEEDEEEKIWUS! Feel free to tell lovely KATEY that I said that if you so desire, yo!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh yes Cosmind sir; I always knew there had to be a message from you about that wildly named and renamed over and over again, apartment system, on the White Horse Pike, in Clementon, New Jersey!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW! Gee willagars whiz yo yo yo, imagine that me' BRAHHHHHHHH, and me' BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!













Here it is loud and dirty, General Patton sir. I WAS SHOT by some moron with a high powered rifle out of one of the windows of the Finistere Apartments that day back in 1975, coming home from Atlantic City after getting beaten up by my enemies there, King, Callio, McGuire, and the gods only know who! I was shot and killed. Or was I? Suddenly I am able to fly through the damn air. Give me a break, who the hell can fly? Well, I can for starters. I also can move objects such as diner rotisseries. Without trying to approach all angles on this first blog, I am saying that realities split off for all of us at certain points, because all of reality rides a photon wave. If this were not true, reality could not be scanned, spliced, and altered, and it most definitely is, all the time. There was one really great place for me where I had Starburn, where I was happy, and where there was an ESS entity who admitted to me that all the other bad locales in the hyperspace is all one big horrible nightmare hell. It is of course no way that simple, and things will be harped on individually on many following texts and blog works. I was walking through that apartment complex mad at the world after being assaulted in Atlantic City by those beach patrol mascots, and I cursed out the Lord, and then POW, some idiot shot me dead before I could repent. I died Christless, and this is the penalty, ETERNAL HELL.

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, huh Chester-Frank?













Is this entire thing still a game of the gods, you may be asking me. Well, absolutely it is. I am just trying to talk the language of a really great 'fence strattler' here, you know, religious words when needed, and then AAT type of terms, also when needed. And as for the nightmares where I am in Oaklyn, this is a powerful place in my true fifth dimensional reality, so indeed, I am in this place and then that place, and all over the damn place.









The vast majority of readers are thinking right about now, what is this stupid blog all about. My response to you is, “WOW are you thinking two-dimensionally”!









Aug 13, 2019 6:00 PM – Aug 20, 2019 5:00 PM





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So there I was in 1975, walking through the Finistere Apartments, on my way to my own apartment behind this garden type 'groupation' of apartments, if I am permitted to use an Astral-Plane word here. I was thinking how Ziggy told me six years earlier in the summer of 1969 that at any time, somebody with a high powered rifle could have me in his sights and shoot me dead and I'd never even hear the shot because before my ears could hear it, my brain would be a pile of fucking mush! I never forgot that day at the beach, some day at the beach, huh? Peeps love to say, “It's no day at the beach” but how about the days there that suck and stink, such as all the days that Paul King made me miserable by playing that taunt song at me as soon as she and her peeps saw me there outside of her fucking miserable radio station, “Feel Real”. Yes, then along came my girlfriend in the summer of 1999, Mizz Helen Zebriski who hailed from Bermuda-Triangle territory, from the lovely and incredible Saint Thomas Island. She lived right there where I walked by, only like the Carriage Lamp becoming the New York ApartMENTS, Mister Mike Soft Spellchecker sir, this place also had undergone a name-change. I do not remember the name. 'So sahwee', Mister Japanese WWll Ambassador. WHAAAAAAHA, AHA-AHA-AHA, MIKE 1971 MCNULTY SIR, YO!!!!!!!!!!!! So keep punching and stabbing me, Sir Cosmind!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don't miss a fucking trick, YO.







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Mark_from_njMark_from_njMark_from_njMark_from_nj

This blogger is signing off at 4:42 on this A.M. Thursday morning, on August 29, 2019. Let me run and get me' tin foil now, Mizz Ass-wipe Terry from WFMU Internet Radio, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo!!!!!!



THIS GREEN-HAZEL EYED, RH-NEGATIVE BLOOD TYPE HUMAN

HYBRID, IS NOW SAYING:







END TRANSMISSION, 4 RIGHT NOW, YO.


















































































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