THE
BLOGS
OF
MOUNTAINPEN'S
©
2006-2020 MARK WAYNE MOHR
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED ®
ALSO
KNOWN AS (AKA) THE
'BOM'
Well
folks, this past week was worse than anything that I have suffered
through so far since my HUNTINGTON
CURSE
began to grow major worse after the experience of AUGUST
15, 1986.
So certain new plans as well as decisions have been made as a damn
result of not only last week but basicly this entire 2020
ELECTION YEAR.
Of course, this shouldn't have really been news to me. I knew that my
nightmare 'shituation'
with parallel event being used as Trump's tool against me since
1986, would indeed make this 2020 year a NIGHTMARE ON STEROIDS FOR
ME, all along. I was merely 100% totally correct AGAIN. WEIN,
(What
Else
Is
New)?
One of these new plans is also merely an old one that I have gotten
away from now for some time, and very foolishly so. I need to
remember the 1994 shut up theory that turned into the shut up reality
that has been discussed a whole damn lot on earlier Morianity, where
every time I would install any kind of a clock in my car, the
OTAMMITE
MILITUFORCE ENEMIES
would
screw with it,
every
single time,
until I finally replaced it and never said boo; not
on my
LIFE
TAPED JOURNALS,
nor
at all aloud to myself or anyone else,
and not even to my good pal David Charles Roth.
When I finally did this, the problem for the very most part was
alleviated. I began discussing this as my shut up theory and started
to apply it on other things and once I then became convinced that it
was real and indeed the truth for me to believe and live by, then I
renamed and labeled this as my “SHUT-UP-REALITY”
Syndrome
or for short, my SURS,
pronounced like the respectful address to a group of nice fine
gentlemen! Yessir peeps out here, I no longer will talk in any way
about any plans that I have, or tell anything onto blogs concerning
things that my M2F enemies do not need to hear or know about for
reasons of my sustained good health.
Last
night, I had major nightmares again, in ATLANTIC
CITY
AT ZIGGY'S
JETTY
AND THE GREAT SCIFF-HOLLISTER'S
CENTRAL PIER
OF SAINT
JAMES PLACE,
the block just south of the world famous TENNESSEE
AVENUE.
In this wild dreaming interaction in the fifth dimensional
hyperspace, my doppelganger was involved in something that never ever
before in
any 'dream',
involved my “BOB”,
or books in general; other than that wild time trip of a sort back
in early middle 1996 while residing at the Williamstown
HIGHVIEW APARTMENTS on Kent Street,
at unit #2D.
On that particular occasion, as many of my blogging-audience may or
may naut remember, Mizz lovely AT&T BLAKE mahm; I had been
involved with a wild 'futuristic' device now called a TABLET, and had
used it in that area of Ziggy's
Jetty
and the Schiff-Hollister
Central
Pier,
and named this in jest and sicko humor, by this blogger, and is also
why I had that non-'mail-count'
MAILMAN 'dream' back in the summer time of 2007
if memory is correctly serving me, about the L&O
TV-SHOW fictional character ADAM SCIFF the mailman
delivering some mail to me at
that very spot;
as all dots always do connect, as was told to us by that wonderful
teacher-preacher, the
great Almighty Lord Jesus
twenty centuries back into time, when HE said that if we knock
on doors they'll be opened,
and that if we seek
in real earnest truth and desire to gain wisdom, that we will indeed
FIND.
I
didn't tell anyone this,
and am only HIS little nobody insignificant MESSENGER,
huh 1969
BRAD????????.
Talk about hyperspace planets being really close together and people
sharing in dreams, for crying out loud, Sir
Surfer-Fonty, yo!
Yes people, if Mister McNulty from 1971 were here with me right now,
he would be going, “AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”, right???
So
there I was last night or late this morning really, while my physical
body was laying here in me' bed that is, asleep; and I find myself
watching my 'double' interacting in his true life on the beach there
in Atlantic City, and never before involved with a book or a
future-tablet with (print that changes, daddy-Quakertown), or any of
that jazz, but this time, here I am with this wild looking book with
a sort of dark-red coloring for a book covering, an dit had a wild
title that I cannot pull up now that I forgot t write ity down upon
arising and going straight into my shower, a big mistake. Always
write down poweerful facts from DREAMS, immediately and
instantaneously for crying out loud, peeps. That is a real MUST if
you want to make sense out of life in this waking world that we all
are seemingly stuck in. To quote Sir Dennis Snyder of Elm, New
Jersey, USAESMWG, “And that's just reality, son”! He is correct.
Also never so far since my memories began resurfacing in middle 2008
ever so slowly about Patty and Merry, have I interacted with any kind
of transdimensional Patty HHH when having these wild and almost
inconceivable nocturnal experiences where I am on that particular
area of the Atlantic City stretch of beaches. SOME HACKER has
recently givenme a NEW HACK of creating weird margins and
space-skipped areas that need to be repaired, obviously in the
attempt to hopefully throw me off of me' train of thought, and yes
folks, many times it works well for them.
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT
and a BIG ASS BUTTERCHEESE
BUTT
but; NAUT THIS TIME, lovely MISS AT&T BLAKE, mahm! I will go on
with this now, peeps! Yes I'll never forget shortly after arriving
here in Fort Pierce, Florida, in middle December of 2009, after
running away from the great illustrious KING CLAN from Hammonton and
Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG, and using the local Melody Lane
Library of the Saint Lucie County LIBRARY SYSTEM, to blog; suddenly
in the middle late part of 2010 somewhere, while I was living up in
the ghetto-hood area of northwestern Fort Pierce, at Avenue E and
26th
Streets, POW, some goddamn asshole major geek BLACK-HAT computer
hacker, managed to make the two LIBRARY WORD PROCESSING machines on
the ground floor north side of the building, and the only one except
for the upper floor one, that seemed to always be in use, get that
wild and irremovable goddamn 'BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT-HACK'.
My new MARGIN-SKIP-HACK is quite active and busy right now, ten years
out into the photon-projection from those times, (the future). In my
daughter's wild 2009 movie, and as a result, at
least IMHO,
of earlier pre-movie blogging, where I would always say but, BIG ASS
BUTT, over and over; there was a part in the Paula Patton class of
all great NON-COOLEY-HALL
SCHOOLS EVERYWHERE,
where that cool young kid suddenly and for no logical or discernable
reason, yelled
out the word “BUTT”,
and it was absolutely inescapable, as you just cannot miss it. But
all that aside peeps; let me finish up with the wild hyperspace
interaction that is AKA my 'DREAM' for crying out loud, yo! It was
all about some peeps coming around this 'double of me', or my
'doppelganger', and trying to get him to discuss more details of this
alternate-reality version of the waking world's now defunct “BOOK
OF BEACH”, burned up in a controlled bedroom fire inside of a thick
steel-metal casing that I had as this was my locked-box kept in my
apartment bedroom when I was a kid of fourteen and fifteen years old.
This new annoying fuckign hack of margins and spacings that shouldn't
be there is getting beyond fucking annoying, yo BRAH!
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, and but peeps, it did me a mother
fucking favor indirectly by realizing that I had forgotten to use my
screen-blocking Anti-FONDA techniques of blocking out the
'groupations' of NUMBER ONES. SO HA-HA-HA-HA-HA; you miserable cow,
and no, naut KAL-LEO
AT&T CALL-TEN,
from the late nineteen fucking nineties, yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
BRRRRRRR!!!!! I do not remember any dream where I am on the beaches
of that exact area of New Jersey real estate, where Patty has been
there, BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, I do remember many many many
mother fucking times where PAULA KING was there and most of the time
she was insisting that I build some strange device for her, and
something that scientists refer to or would I suppose if they
combined the electronic concepts of radio frequency technology with
sub atomic beam-particle technology, and I have always labeled this
since I was about age sixteen years, a “techyon radio”. She
always wants me to build her one of these things, and since I have
come to the ultimate conclusion after more than two decades of
careful study and virtually exhaustive scientific analysis, that in
reality, some transdimensional JULIA WHITE character has managed to
become a successful TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON (T3E), and has actually taken
over the waking lives of three women over here in this parallel
world; Patty HHH, Paula King, and Melanie Safka the great
early-seventies folksinger; due to inescapable stuff that all has
happened to me where no other possible explanation could even be
rationally make sense. All the stuff that's fucking happened to me,
as crazy and sick as it seems, has indeed occurred and nothing except
for ESS TECH, can rationally even hope to explain the tiniest parts
of any of this. Yes, people in some grouping in this wild dream from
last night or really late this morning; all were trying to pump me
for more information concerning what I was speaking of in my wild and
totally unfathomable book, written in my days of youth after the
summer of 1969 had ended, from my apartment in Oaklyn, NJUSAESMWG on
Oakland Avenue, #O-15; called, “Book Of Beach”, shortened from
The Book OF THE Beach, still shortened from my interactions with
many wild characters that were ON THAT BEACH and in the local area
surrounding it on TENNESSEE AVENUE, such as Almighty Lordess Neecy
Jehovah Krassle, the Almighty PINK GODDESS of our entire Metaverse!
Now anyone seriously into Morianity, realizes that after fourteen
years of my writing this blog, it has also assisted me as well, in
coming to evennewer and more updated truths and concepts, one being
how my own daughter is fully connected into all of this stuff through
the incredible magical character of my 1994 book that was copyrighted
and written in that year, known as “The Permission Barrier”, and
how Julia
White
really fits into my life and not through some fictional book that had
to be written obviously in some fictional way so that I
would not have been sued from heredahelda
and HELL
and back!!!
There
are so many things concerning each small part of all of this. I could
talk about Tennessee Avenue for weeks without stopping for a cocoa
break. I could talk about the beaches of Atlantic City without
stopping for a month for food or drink, only we all know that I would
be found dead in here should I try that little stupid ass stunt, yo!
I could harp on things for years concerning my Huntington family on
my Mom's side, and the great secrets of my illegitimate pop's side of
the family, and I would never be able to tell it all in complete
perfectly chronologically accepted order, with full elucidated
detail. The
book would be a thousand times the size of the United States Tax-Code
for fucking ass crying out loud, and who would ever read it?
Even our Holy Bible is only 66 books long after the great Roman
Catholic
Church
and its JRSS endlessly connecting dots of Canonized
junk
all got through with everything; and nobody except for a few damn
bookworm weirdos or peeps graduating from Seminary, ever
has read through it all.
Who
is fucking kidding who;
lovely Northern No Joysey 1965 Mizz
Lillian
Erby,
for crying out loud, yo? So we can save the even greater details of
that wild hyperspace-interaction for other blogs at other times. As
time endlessly seems to march onward,we all know that there are more
appropriate times where things in my life will cause me to then go on
and pick up on these many wild topics just where they had been
previously left off from, and this is precisely and exactly what I
plan to go right on doing, and I don't mind discussing plans like
that, since obviously a blatant moron runny nosed toddler already has
figured that much out, so using my “SHUT-UP-REALITY”
here is both pointless
and meaningless!
Please; no more mail-counts, magic Fonda boats, Roger-notes, or
Hammonton
mail delivery dream-expert mail carriers,
FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, MISTER GREAT NEW AGE AUTHOR, SIR JAMES REDFIELD
(JRSS)! TANKS AND YESSIR, A GREAT BIG AND SUPER HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE
“BOOM”!!!
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN
©
2006-2020 the 'BOM'
MARK
WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASES CHART:
SUNDAY,
MARCH 8, 2020
CURRENT
PHASE IS:
WAXING
GIBBOUS 6:6
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q. WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5
WXG6 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6
L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 WNC7 N.M.
Some
of the things that will be reiterated here, in following the advice
of bloggers in general with more successful blogging careers than
mine; is why I will be touching on topics recently posted, such as
the gods coming here in various ways, including as crystals to be
used in our electronic systems one day, long after the world cooled
down and began to work its way towards the human-program or 'life' as
we all know it, finally coming into being. Also, I am going to talk
about the ESS and the connections with this into COMCAST as well as
the further backing up of all of it with the synchronized proof of
the James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome (JRSS), in so far as my
musical projects of the early nineteen-eighties relating to my
daughter's ages at that very same time, and how mighty wonderful
COMCAST used that old advertisement on television that showed that
telephone number ending in 1484, sort of another add or subtract
(ONE) deal of the Jane Fonda (ONE-NUMBER-HARASSMENT) when we look at
how later on in this new century, the great Copyright Office used
their system of numerically cataloging my musical projects, number 13
in 1983 being the one in question, and of course the title of my
daughter's music project in 2009. So again, here is my posted up copy
of the Copyright Office's home-page, showing my music projects, and
for reasons of obvious hack, I am not able to update the newest
post-2013 year page that SHOULD SHOW MY 2013
MUSIC PROJECT CALLED “You'll
Be Crossing Over”, so projects from 1-28, and as stated,
number 29 and my final music project has
been HACKED OUT OF EXISTENCE,
just as someone paid off that lady to steal my
2013 Copyright Office form that day that I hired her to clean
my apartment, and she was the only one that could have taken it, as
she took many other things from this place as well on that day, cans
of soups and other kitchen cabinet food, blood pressure medications
that obviously have some resale value so these damn druggies around
here can keep their fucking noses in the smoke, and other items went
missing, along with my recently sent COPYIGHT FORM for my 2013 music
project, and then I later learned that a couple years after she had
done that, she got a massive stroke in her bathroom and she went back
to the timeless fucking Purgatory, as Magnesonic
obviously sent her there, yo!
So
why do weeks this bad and months this bad and years this bad continue
to happen to me and just who is the MILITUFORCE and just WHY does it
persecute me so damn dick chewing horrendously for CRISSAKE? Maybe
that last sentence was not really a CURSE WORD. Maybe it is because
my Mom's side of the family, the HUNTINGTON'S, that traces according
to the world famous MASON CLUB, all the way back mot only the the
LORD JESUS and HIS family, but all the way back to KING DAVID. This
is not guess work you know. I've had this lineage of which my
bloodline is a direct ancestral lineage from, all checked thoroughly
out by the MASON LIDGE, and was even given a chart that shows very
accurately how my 7th
great gramps, Mister Samuel Huntington, was a direct descendant of
Mary Stuart the globally famous QUEEN OF SCOTTLAND, and back from
there, her roots go all the way DIRECTLY BACK TO THE BIBLICAL KING
DAVID HIMSELF, the Almighty Quakertown, Pennsylvania, USAESMWG
interactions with magical children from 'HEAVEN' and so much more,
all not withstanding. All of these things have been written about on
countless prior blogging texts, but according to me' recent research
that was done the other day on how to grow blogs and how to make
money eventually with them, showed me that peeps like for a blogger
to retell and rehash the major points of the blog from time to
fucking time, yo!!!!!!!!!!! Hey peeps, I don't say any of these damn
things, I merely am echoing what I have Googled up or been told by
peeps whom IMHO yo, I can classify as legitimate and knowledgeable
peeps with accurate information. I
do not EVER try and pass fake news, or give out phony BALLOON 2009
HOAX JUNK.
That is not who I am nor would it prove anything. I never understood
false and fake shit nor cheating in board games, or any of that junk
since I do not see how it PROVES ANYTHING. If I cheat to win, what
the fuck have I really and truly won, just make that make sense to me
and
maybe I will then become a cheater.
But until that time, I do not plan on altering my behavior patterns.
Same
thing with ILLEGAL
DRUGS.
Even back as early as the nineteen sixties when many of the peeps I
personally knew were doing acid, and tripping, and all of it; I
stayed completely away from all of that shitty junk, because I never
ever saw any of the goddamn upside to it, and until someone can
reveal that upside to me; I will never ever take any kind of
non-prescribed chemistry into my physical body. Of course, I did have
some unusual things happen to me that in all fairness, I must
confess, made any need for wild acid trips quite null and void. I
speak of lovely Mizz
Hollister
and her magical world of chanting, communicating with “dead-people”,
eating weird stuff that Wiccan folks all do, and spells, and all of
thisssssssssssssssssss
weird stuff, yo. When she taught me the NEO-HO-CHANT,
and yes folks, and folksingers too Mister
Microsoft Corporation Sir;
I screwed up several times and I said on previous blogs that she
taught me the HU-CHANT
and that was said in error, sorry about that yo; Mike Sift Hacks,
butButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT and big ass BUTTERCHEESE BUTT and but;
me' pernt Sir Archibald Bunkerqueens is thissssssss:!!! When Patty
HHH
taught me the great (FASCITAR)
for traveling to anywhere in the hyperspace or even into the
PRUGATORY itself (ASTRAL-PLANE),
I really would have no need for speed, or LSD-25 tabs, or any other
ILLEGAL
DOPE AND DRUGS
for crying out loud. I
had or so it seems, the ultimate TRAVEL AGENT back in 1974,
even if little Merry wasn't allowed out on the following Halloween at
age five and a half years for being a 'REALLY
BAD GIRL',
or so was said tome by Patty, and just what she did so terribly bad I
guess I'll never know. To quote Uncle-Billy here and my mom and many
others as well I suppose, “Boy
oh boy oh boy”.
To quote me' great Naval Officer Pop, who was involved in the
NEVER-HAPPENED
Philadelphia-Experiment,
and personally knew the great Genius-Professor Sir Albert Einstein,
“Ho-Hum
and don't fucking ever try and fight CITY HALL”,
and yes, I can even quote the lovely
Miss Patricia H. Hollister H.
here with her all-knowing comment to me, “Mark,
if you ever need to know anything at all, you have my phone number;
just call me, even if it's three
in the morning”.
Well, I have yet to hear anyone else ever, use
that exact hour with me,
other than for my wonderful, awesome, and quite illustrious next door
nabe, who I am convinced is somehow part of the old
nabe-peeps of the great and miserable 605 Construction Company.
Yes he said to me a few days ago, “I
don't call the cops on you when you make noise at three in the
morning, and have women in there”.
Yessir, I sure have an entire heirum of lovelies in here with me.
Like anyone would want a broke,
ugly, fat, old, loser, nobody like me. Cut
me a break Margie Leo, and kind sir next door. The shit I've had to
mother fucking suffer through in this physical lifetime as Mark Wayne
Mohr, is unfathomable, surreal, inconceivable, and awesomely ugly on
quintessential fucking steroids, FOR
CRYING OUT LOUD, SIR FONTANA,
OH MIGHTY TRANSDIMENSIONAL BEACH SURFER, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWSER-WOWZEE,
YO!
[{03-08-2020}]
4:21
POST
MERIDIAN
LATE
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
8
MARCH, 2020
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
THE
TORTURE AND SLOW MURDER OF MARK WAYNE MOHR BY TRUMP AND HIS MOB,
CHAPTER
33
THE
NIGHT BEOFRE DIANA'S LOVELY FULL MOON. SHE REALLY KEEPS ME GOING,
MISTER PETE HASSE, IF YOU'RE STILL OUT THERE SOMEWHERE WITH TOPSE
YOUNG LOVLIES KEEPING YOU GOING, TO QUOTE YOU FROM SUMMER-TIME OF
1975, SIR!!!
LOCAL
WEATHER CONDITIONS:
CLOUDY
AND COOL TODAY HERE IN TOWN.
IT
FELT JUST UNDER 90 TODAY IN TOWN!!!
DATE----2-27-2020-------TIME----3:27
A.M.
The
actual temp was about mid eighties, yo!
TEMPERATURE:----
HEAT
INDEX FEELS LIKE TEMP:----
HUMIDITY:----
WINDS:----
PREDICTED
HIGH:----
SKY
CONDITIONS PRESENTLY:----
RAIN
CHANCES TODAY:----
STORMS
AND POSSIBLE TORNADO'S
PREDT.
LIFE
ENDLESSLY CHANGES.
WHAT IS REAL THEN, NO LONGER IS REAL NOW. MIND IS WHAT SEPARATES WHO
CAUSES SPACE OR THE ILLUSION OF SEPARATENESS IN-BETWEEN TIMES AND
PLACES. THIS IS WHY MORIANITY PREACHES THE TRUTH AND REALITY OF STM
(SPACE-TIME-MIND)
AS IT ALL IS ONE AND THE SAME EXACT THING!
Today,
7 February, in case anyone may just remember; is MCGUIRE DAY,
and the 23rd anniversary of the day that I met him in
adult-life, on Tennessee Avenue, HIS STREET since he appears to think
that he OWNS IT, LOVELY SPOON DANCING OPRAH, in Atlantic City, New
Jersey, USAESMWG. But forget fucking McGuire
DAY peeps, willya'? The more important thing is that I appear
to be the center of the entire universe, and I do not say this is any
type of a bragging fucking way, as it has made my entire life an
endless living hellishness of epitomized misery for over sixty five
and a quarter years now. I am now addressing how every single damn
time without exception, when I mention anything at all, the
MILITUFAWCES make it vanish and disappear LITERALLY FUCKING CUNT
OVERNIGHT, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.
Take the most recent damn example with OPRAH
and her cool spoon dancing deal on her weight watching ads. You all
remember this I know, LOVELY SPOON DANCING
OPRAH, and those cool TV-ad-spots, yo. I know you all
remember thissssssss, and even you do, lovely Erica Snakes
'naut on a plane' CANE! If I truly am just an
insane madman; lovely Listener Therese of Internet Radio WFMU
CRACKPOTS FROM NEW JERSEY; then go ahead and explain how this never
ending thing goes on and on and on with me; U just try, oh
world!!!!!!!!!! No matter what it ever is. If I mention it on a blog,
POOF and HARRY POTTER TOTAL WIZARDRY MAGIC of the great Patricia
Hollister H.H., it vanishes quicker than any rabbit has ever done
from the hat of any Copperfield-Blaine magician, and I'll tell and
proclaim this to all of you over and over until I someday am believed
in all of my TALES AND WOES-WIZ-ME'S, YO!!!!! YESSIR PEEPS, even the
great AD-6-NEW LEADER-WHOEVER, toldme that the group said that my
biggest potentialproof of all of the claims made to the world on my
nearly 15 year old blogging project, is that this very wild, weird,
and totally unexplainable thing goes on happening endlessly and
always has happened around me from as early as I can possibly
remember. So perhaps, something has a
major fucking vested interest in everything MARK WAYNE MOHR
connected, to go the way of the AREA-51-FLYING SAUCER &
ALIEN-CONSPIRACY, you know, make it go away because it is all just
total bunk and shit. When some group of scum balls
have major shit to hide, this indeed is their major number one trick
in their toolbox. Discredit a person,place him or her on the
CRACKPOTS LIST, and then stand in the
front line and LAUGH AND LAUGH AND SCOFF
at the poor fucking bastard prick!!!!!!!One possible fucking reason
for my goddamn computer being so fucked up, is that I may need to go
to Goodwill and replace my keyboard soon. The fucking cunt shift-bar
is just about shot, and this just might assist me with some of my
problems while trying to type my mother fucking blogs, yo BRO!!!!!!
Eventually I'll need an entirely new computer that has WINDOWS TEN,
and all new parts, but for now, I think a new board and a new mouse
just might help to mother fucking alleviate many of me' hacks and
woes, yo BRAHHHHHHH!!!!!! It is so much fun BEING
ENDLESSLY OPPRESSED, KEPT INTENTIONALLY DOWNTRODDEN
AND POVERTY
STRICKEN BY INVISIBLE COVERT
FUCKING ENEMIES. WOW, IS THIS A
BLAST, ME' GREAT PEEPS OUT HERE, YO!!!!!! YESSIR PEOPLE,
WOW-WOW-WOW-WOW, and Wonderful Oprah Winfrey.
She knows that all of my stories on this blog are totally real, and
even SHE was threatened to keep her mother fucking mouth shut and
never help me with that. This is the world of DOGTOWN that I am
seemingly eternally stuck in now, and that I fully remember being in
for nearly eighty-one hundred years now. Boy oh boy, Uncle Billy. She
didn't want to sweep the sand, or OWN the land, or DID SHE, back in
1983, along with the mysterious RALPH and SANDY of the mystical
realms of pre-net PRIVECODE Inter-digital
Corporation, known then by me, the Mountainpen, as the
International Mobile Machines Incorporated
of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA, ESMWG. This was all a
part of the days and the ways of the spring-time of the 1983 year,
and my then MUSICAL-PROJECT called “SAGA OF
SONGWRITER MARK MUD”, © Copyrighted in the great and
illustrious United states Library of the Congress. So 'WEEEEEEEEE' to
quote the great Shoeknockeroutter Sir Chester-Frank, and naut to ever
be confused with Sir Chester Perkowski and his mighty interactions of
the Estelle Bassler owned wild Bolivar Hotel of Tennessee Avenue in
Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG. Well, it is almost five on this Sunday
evening, and I am hungry for me whittle din-din now, so I will close
out here, yo. There will be things talked about soon that most likely
will LEAD TO THE MURDER OF MARK MOHR now that they all know that my
county has given them an ILLEGAL LICENSE AND GREEN-LIGHT to carry out
their covert mission of MY BLOODY MURDER. Whether I can survive until
me' goddamn 66th birthday is absolutely problematical.
There is no way of knowing or finding out,
as Pat Almighty Robertson of the 700 Phony-Christians Club of
Devil-Worship, said it so well, back in 1980; WHILE I WAS EMPLOYED AT
THE RECORDING STUDIO, KNOWN AS RPL, IN
CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY, USAESMWG. Me'
MOUSE hacking is getting beyond mother fucking wild. WOW, YO!
Ever
since the stock market began operating in the eighteen-hundreds,
heredahelda and HERE in America, it never ever traded its industrial
averages in points greater than THREE-DIGITS, that is until early in
the 1983 year, and just a couple of months AFTER MY DEPARTURE FROM
1802 ROBIN HILL APARTMENTS, in Voorhees Township New Jersey,
USAESMWG. Discussing this in its fullness would require a book more
intricate and more lengthy than the United States TAX CODE.
ButTERCHEESE and
BIG ASS BUTT BUT,
it can indeed be summed up by saying a few things, beginning with
Thursday being another big UP DAY for it, and all as a result of
TRUMP'S ACQUITTAL in the UNITED STATES SENATE from charges brought
against him in the HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES for his IMPEACHMENT.
Rather than be happy for this event, he has become more of a total
fucking sicko monster, and has railed against all of those whom he
perceives as those frustrating his presidency since he took office in
January of 2017. I of course DID WARN THE WORLD of his behavior long
before he even threw his mother fuckign hat into the ring in 2015,
and EVERYBODY OUT HERE KNOWS THIS, AND KNOWS THESE BLOGS SPEAK FOR
THEMSELVES AS WELL, PROVING WHAT I AM NOW CLAIMING TO BE THE ABSOLUTE
AND TOTAL TRUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU ALL that the market
would be at 30,000 points which it is, and I told you all what a
brutal monster and criminal TRUMP is, was, and ALWAYS WILL BE. I had
absolutely nothing to gain at all by doing any of thissssssss, oh
lovely Erica of AMC SNAKES in 1983, and everybody else too,
yo!!!!!!!!!!! I remind you all how he continues to say that the
markets will crash drastically should anything happen to him or his
position of great and lofty global power. If the Democrats can't kick
this monster out of office this year with the upcoming national
election vote, then this entire world is TOTALLY DOOMED, oh not the
wealthy fuckign dirt bags, but all OF THE REST OF US POOR SHMUCKS OUT
HERE WHO ARE POOR AS SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Endlessly kept down
endlessly oppressed, and covertly made the endless SLAVES of this new
world order's wealthy class known as the billionaires. THEY are the
new world nobles, and the rest of us are the new world serfs and
SLAVES!
What
nobody understands unless they are really seriously into mathematics,
is something called the absolute rule of quick-percentage, named by
Mountainpen, but the experts in the math departments simply have
other similar names for the very same truths. Once anything starts
and then gets going, it is under a powerful physical natural law
known as MOMENTUM. My Morianity has
called the combination of these two concepts, “Magnetic
Percentages” and again, this most likely is also in the high-math
books somewhere, but under different titles and names. When the stock
market in America broke out of the three digit maximum, exceeding a
greater than 999.99 points on the Dow Jones Industrial Average, it
entered one of two phases that I have attempted to discuss
intelligently to a less than genius world around me. I promise you
all that most WALL STREET TRADERS
are not fully cognizant of the awesome power behind these words. But
if we take the year 1983 when it hit 1000 points for the first time,
and shortly before my omnidirectional UNEXPLAINABLE WEIRD CHOKING
CONDITION CAME ON ME OUT OF NOWHERE; we can see that the basic all
time CONSTANT in the market of an averaged annual ten percent gain,
suddenly took off in the laws of 'larger-numbers'. Taking a ten
percent increase in value from the year of 1930 when the markets were
an extremely tiny number is one thing. But once it eventually grew to
a more sizable number in points, the rate of expansion and
mathematical delta, became more and more intense. It works like time
works on human beings. When we're fuckign children in grammar school,
we sit and look at the slow moving clock from half past one until
somewhere around three, taking forever and ever. But as we grow much
older, time literally appears to pass us all in a much faster
movement. Ask any older person and they will tell you that years go
by so much faster than they did for them as much younger people.
There is no weird magic going on here, and the reason is quite
obvious. It is all happening within a built in mathematical process,
and not too many things operate more mathematically than the human
brain does, when all is said and done. But if we multiply 110% times
the DJIA-POINTS on the final week of every year on the final day of
business or the last Friday of each year; ON AVERAGE for a very long
time, the DJIA follows this TEN PERCENT ANNUAL UP-TICK. Because of
this, and I speak here in every bit of a fucking omnidirectional way
as I speak of all parallel event reality where EVENT-A AND EVENT-B
seem to be attracted to each other in either a positive or a negative
way, as I was just recently discussing on a recent past blog; but
yes, because of this, my entire life that for whatever reasons lay
magically behind this parallel event where I am EVENT-B and the DOW
JONES is EVENT-A, or reversing the two if you wish since either
direction works in parallel event and unlike with KARMA'S cause and
effect where only EVENT-B is a result of EVENT-A, but this explains
why my life from time to time gets better and gets worse, because not
only are very short term boosting effects connected into this
parallel event, but also corrections from the normal ten percent
annual profits where in a longer term, the percentage goes off a
little bit from 10%, and taking sometimes as long as years to return
again to this constant equation, and these two elements combined are
why my life takes such major dips, since most of the time, the stock
market is BULLISH, and anyone who knows anything at all about it,
KNOWS THIS IS TRUE. In a total
nutshell, as anything progresses, a momentum begins to be born and as
many or most born things, they also GROW, and this is what is behind
those otherwise totally invisible OZ-CURTAINS. So first, the markets
got much bigger as enough time passed so that the ten percent annual
growth would start having much larger dollar effects on the economy.
Then, my life since it's on this stupid ass fucking parallel event
with the market, has bigger and bigger effects and the really bad
times and really bad shit around me has grown only worse and worse
and worse, as this market continues its seemingly endless exponential
expansion. This and ONLY THISSSSSSSSS, me' lovely Erica
Snakes, from 1983-AMC; is the explanation that would otherwise
remain an endless rotten fucking mystery
for me, naut that this is naut endless misery;
huh lovely Mizz Blake from AT&T??????????
The
James Redfield Synchronicity Syndrome is nothing to ignore or scoff
at, and why this man has naut been on every single national
television show with his concept, only mother fucking totally proves
to me, that HALLS FAWCES are doing all that they are able to, in
order to thwart this incredible knowledge and wisdom to spread and
create the beginning roots of this supposedly new age movement, that
in my humble opinion (IMHO) never really came at all. Anyone out here
who can disbelieve Morianity Lawtronics, same thing as synchronicity,
only it is one part of Lawtronics and there are other parts, but
anyone who can doubt this, merely has no argument to do it and they
are just being complete douche wads and ignoring the facts
surrounding this powerful surreal phenomenon. I of course can type
out a thousand of these things in my life without even trying or
batting what's left of me' damn eyelashes. The one that comes to mind
right now is the United States Copyright Office and its choices for
labeling my 29 musical projects in a chronological file order that
has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the actual chronology of
the projects sent to them. There are many wild JRSS items, but we all
know, and I FULLY BELIEVE THAT THE MIGHTY COMCAST CABLE COMPANY IS
AWARE OF IT, since their ad-spot a few years back now with one of
several telephone numbers that they list for calling them to receive
their services. I speak of this one now in retaliation for the
fuckign freeze-out just shy of midnight, causing me to have to reboot
the system to restore my service, A-G-A-I-N!!!!!!!!!! Yes, that
number shows the very same truth that my SAGA OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD
does, as far as my daughter's age at particular years.
Public Catalog |
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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
FOR
THE PAST 65 YEARS,
WITH MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS DEATH
ASSAULT & THREE DAY SUPER BOTBAR SIEGE AND ELDER ABUSE ON ME
NOW, EVER SINCE MIDDLE 2019, AND ON THIS February
5, 2020,
with A MAJOR TRIAD NABE SIEGE , that is all a part of DONALD
TRUMP'S ICPE-APE-TECH death strike on me since August 15 of 1986;
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.
JANE
FUCKING WHORE Sleazedisease just got me AGAIN with PAGE
ELEVEN OF MOTHER FUCKING ELEVEN, SO HERE IS MY
COMPENSATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
I
live in a real world where I am fully aware that normal human beings
care only about the SUPER-BOWL this weekend. Of course, I could not
care in the least about this game or ANY GAME, because I am fully
aware of why GAMES exist on this mortal temporal plane of human
life, dreamed off of the PURGATORY, and that being, to distract
against the hellishness of endlessness. The GAMES and love and
desire for them, follow us off of this ASTRAL-PLANE of endless
existence, here into out human hyperspace dreaming sequences, what
you all see as “lifetimes” while interacting on this caporial
and material plane, huh lovely COOLEY HALL AIMY? Still, I accept
REALITY, and always try to be REAL, Sir Dennis Snyder, and Sir Bob
Schleigh. So I doubt that I will have any viewers or maybe a trickle
at best this weekend, as a result of this great marvelous football
game. So I won't bother with STATS!
THURSDAY
NIGHT AT 10:10,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 79 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 88%, FEELING LIKE 85 DEGREES.
WIND
IS ENE AT 3, WITH GUSTS TO 9.
RANGE
TODAY-----(H-83/L-73).
Why
do some things happen like this:
|
There
truly in no human explanation!
I
want people out here to know how much I do appreciate your interest
in my truths. No one ever said that I have to be right, but it is
kind of funny. I have actually had people go almost nuts in a futile
attempt to prove what I claim to be real and happening around me, is
not accurate, or is some kind of mental delusion and illness. I
openly admit to mental illness running in my family. Many diseases
do in fact run in family lines, cancer, heart problems, and others.
But, and all
butters and cheeses and parallel world joking aside here;
I will never go too far to where any possible innocent person or
persons would be irreparably hurt by my blogs, especially if they
continue to grow in size and readership. I
AM ONLY AFTER THE TRUTH, and unfortunately, many times, the truth is
anything by painless.
Still, even if I do end up going all the way to the 8th
RED STAR in the Secrets Thermometer Scale (STS) kind people; I will
NAUT go out of my way to totally wipe out anybody's name or
reputation. Believe this however, please: If I ever really told ALL
OF IT, I may still NAUT get the vindication that I would deserve to
have, but IT WOULD ABSOLUTELY CAUSE MANY PEOPLE ENOUGH AGONY to
where I feel that I would truly have to answer for my deeds, in this
life possibly, and in eternity, most definitely!
Thank
you for being a loyal 'Morian' or at least, an interest Blogaudian,
whoever anyone out here might be. I will try to limit my cursing as
time goes on, and now that I am being taken seriously enough so that
my numbers are not some third grade school kid's blog; I will even
try that much harder to arrange things better, and not be, as the
great Terry Scatterbrain Egg Harbor resident would accuse me of
being, “All over the place and scatter-brained”! But as you all
know by now, or you will as you read still onward, this is a blog
that is NAUT about current events unless they totally tie into my
problems, nor is this a blog that can be started on day one and go
perfectly in some book-organized and professionally done,
chronological order. Still, I'll keep trying to make improvements if
you all try and stay with me. I have said this all along and feel
the need for reiteration here. I never did and never will mean a
single soul one bit of harm, that is unless they are part of this
ongoing conspiracy to totally absolutely wipe out my life, without
cause, without mercy, without justice!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
Cut
me a break here, Marge Leo, yo!
YES
BEAUTIFUL 'PATTY HHH', THIS HACKING IS MAKING ME WANT TO BURN
WITH
FIRE, LOVELY QUEEN
OF THE WICCAN LANDS,
AND BLUE CANDLES AT THE
J-CEM!!!!!!!!!! Oh well gorgeous Mizz
Irene Cara, at least they're NAUT damn 'FLASHDANCE
MEMORIES' of so many wild 'BULLISH
DJIA ICPE-APE-TECH'
other great and unfathomable skating
rinks!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Contact
Us | Request
Copies | Get
a Search Estimate |
Frequently
Asked Questions (FAQs) about
Copyright | Copyright
Office Home Page | Library
of Congress Home Page
I
cannot help but wonder if there is not some really 'HUUUUUUUUUUGE'
significance to the number 1496, at least from the point of view of
the great illustrious COMCAST? Still, we cannot always know instantly
what we are seeking after. Even the JRSS has its limitations, and to
any honest and sincere seeker, many dots will connect eventually, and
led us all to great truths. As we wait, we can always quiz the
magical kitty-cat Sir Gawky Gaukauk, by
downloading my APP at the GOOGLE
PLAY STORE. Am I naut correct here, Mizz
AT&T Blake from 1983? Gee willagars for crying out fucking
loud, people! In any event it still is four years after mighty SIR
Christopher Columbus supposedly discovered THE
AMERICA'S in 1492. But the great Mayflower
Ship as well as the hotel in Atlantic
City, all came after that; and yes, I do naut believe any of
these things are some silly ass random chance coincidence. Sorry, but
I just fucking don't! So sue me, big Katy!
Copyright
© 1999 – 2020 Google
DEAR
GOOGLE-OWNER OF THE BLOGGER:
Allowing my legally
photo-bucket photo, that I paid good damn money for in 2006, to be
endlessly screwed with on a blogger's account; oh great mighty
GOOGLE; is tantamount to a major
violation of the UNITED STATES
CONSTITUTION and its great
FREEDOM OF speech 1st
AMMENDMENT, as that photo is of MY
LIKENESS, and identifies and
associates me with my blogs, OFFICIALLY, and you are allowing this
UNFAIR BUSINESS AND INTERNET PRACTICE TO KEEP HAPPENING WITH MY
ACCOUNT!!!!!
OH
CHESTER-FRANK, SIR!
I
mean, to quote Queen Katy
and myself, “This is truly WEEDEEKAWUSS”!
So
I now say to this evil rotten wicked world in all parallel realities:
'YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO, AND ALSO,
MY
VELY BEST TO THE NATIONAL AIRSPACE SYSTEM
AERIAL REGULATIONS, AND YOUR FAA-TC-UNCLE
FROM POMONA, N.J., AND A BIG-ASS WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE'.
SOOOOOOOOOO, AC,
AND
VIVA MORIANITY
Yes
Russ old pal, those Haddon Avenue mean statements can hurt people,
yo!
'KRYSTAL'S
BALL'
EXPLORING
THE UNCONSCIOUS, using this APP:
All
the items in cosmos are out of 81
possible realities, with some of them connected
into each other, while others NOT.
Using
this formula allows us to make ultimate decisions!
© Krystal's Ball
Guarantee
and disclaimer information:
Anyone
using this and is not satisfied,
can have $5.00 back!
Publisher: Krystal's Ball
Rating:
Price: 0.99 USD
(ninety-nine pennies) Just
how cheap are folks?
The
joke is that this is worth 100,000 bucks, and I would say this to any
damn district attorney in this nation, as I know how powerful this
thing really truly is.
You
will have to prove to me that this does not work for you, I am no
fool!
INVENTOR,
MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR. ®
DOWNLOAD
@ GOOGLE PLAY STORE
Krystal's
Ball was developed by Professor Mario Eraso, slong with some of his
math and computer science students; at the great Miami, Florida, USA
University, FIU (Florida International University), right during the
time that in my opinion, the 8th
Street Bridge suddenly collapsed for no rational reason, and was done
by MILITUFAWCES!
I cannot prove most things I say on the BOM, so as I told a friend of
mine just today while out on some local damn errands, yo; “If you
can't prove something, it never appened”, quoting lovely Judge
Judith Schiendman and also any legal scholars as well, I'm quite
sure. HACKERS disabled my spellchecker System aGAIN, so I need to go
off the OPEN-OFFICE and reboot up again to clear out ther hack. Okay
there Evil Chuckie and Dawn-Marie King, 5th
Cuzz 3 in-law removes from lovely Patricia H.H. HOLLISTER, me'
whittle mommie's office coworker from the late sixties and into the
seventies! Mike McNulty would say this perdy dern perfectly right
about here should he be in tyhis room with me, an di fully realize
thissssssss! I will quote him from 1971 out in Wexton, Pennsylvania,
USA-ESMWG, “AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA-AHA”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When
I was going through the worst death siege in the world yesterday, and
was on the telephone with the Comcast peeps regarding my HACKED OUT
FROZEN SERVICES AND SCREWED UP ACCOUNT; their machine would ask me
things and yet when I said things back they could not hear it on my
end. So then they said press one for YES and press two for NO, and
even though I firmly pressed the ONE, they still could not hear it
and I could not confirm what I needed to. These electronic fucking
super annoying wizardry tricks of the Merlin-Milituforce go all the
way back to the nineteen-seventies and only got far fuckign ass worse
in the middle eighties after my August of 1986 hellish situation took
place that night in my bedroom in the BARF-KARPF rental home, where
life changed forever, and without one bit of assistance from Mister
Chester Perkowski, Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, or the great
All Mighty PINK-GODDESS Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle! A moron
dim-witted snot nosed punky child can see what is happening with
that dumb ass fucking trick. They simply have a way of muting out
anything on my end, just as I myself could mute things from my end
from a touch of a button on my own land-line telephone. The only
difference is that they are interfering with the life of someone, and
persecuting someone, ILLEGALLY, and have been doing this for decades
now. Not one mother fuckign soul will believe my sad tale of woe
straight out of the damn gates of HELL, AKA (DOGTOWN) in the
Purgatory/Astral Plane.
Yesterday,
lots of CHEMTRAILS were up in the sky around Fort Pierce and my area
in general. So far these MILITUFAWCES have not poisoned me
sufficiently to cause me any more inability to make it to me'
bathroom disasters, but that will happen as it always does, and quite
reliably, usually about two to four times each season (13 weeks), and
this constant has gone on for decades. And again, if something was
just really wrong with me, I would have died from that illness a very
long time ago, would I naut? So don't go throwing that bunch of lolly
pot slop logic up at me, as I ain't damn hearing it. My mom used to
say to me over and over, each time I would grown and moan about car
broblems, “Mark, it's an old car, you can expect it”. Well, I
know the odds of things and became quite the expert of odds and
chance an dplayed professional Roulette in the Jersey casinos for the
better part of the year 1986 and won money consistently, so I think I
am better qualified to know when shit is not what it seems to be. Of
course, ?I can always expect others around me to call me a kook and a
crack-pot,and they do.
Mountainpen’s Blog
Just
another WordPress.com weblog
CRACKPOTS
FROM NEW JERSEY
WFMU
INTERNET RADIO CRAZY CURSING DUDES
Listen!
If you are a copyright owner
and believe that your copyrighted works have been used in a way that
constitutes copyright infringement, here is our DMCA
Notice.
«
Classical Jew’s Harp Music (MP3s) | Main
| “If
You Do Not Like, Buy a Record By the Caetano and Do Not Bother Us,
Fuck You." December 12, 2006, More Crackpots- Meet Mark
from NJ (MP3), MORE OF THESE HATS ARE AROUND THE AREA OF FORT PIERCE,
FLORIDA. READ SAFE JOURNAL BLOGS AROUND THE 500-600 CHAPTER NUMBER
RANGE, AND THEN CLICK ON AN OLD REMADE SONG FROM 1983, WOW MISTER
MACY, IS THIS THE FIRST TRUMP, THE LAST TRUMP, OR THE MARK OF THE
BEAST, AS INDEED, 1+2+3+4 ALL THE WAY UP TO +36 WILL INDEED EQUAL
666, GEE REALLY, COPYIGHT OFFICE OF 1988? HAY, IT IS ALL DOWN THERE
FOR THE RECORD. YOU CAN CLICK HERE FOR MORE, ONLY BELEIVE THIS FOLKS,
THE MOUNTAINPEN NEVER TITLED ANYTHING, “THE MEANING OF LIFE”,
SOMEONE MUST HAVE ADDED ALL OF THIS TO THEIR DEGRADED COPY TAPES,
FROM WHAT WAS STOLEN WHEN THEY BOOSTED MY CAR STEREO AT NORTHEAST
PHILL’S FRIENDLY RESTAURANT ON THE ROOSEVELT BOULEVARD IN THE
FRIKKIN NINETIES. ALL I EVER DID WAS SAY, AND I’LL QUOTE, FROM
1983, “GIRL, I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING”, SO CLICK HERE: DO NOT
CLICK HERE, THIS IS ALL DEFUNCT AND GONE!
GUESS
WHAT, SOMEBODY REMOVED THE
PHOTO OF THE 'SUPPOSED ME', AS OF 21
APRIL IN 2014. I BELIEVE THIS WAS DAWN'S
BD.
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.
Station
Manager Ken clued me in to this fella recently. He was given a
CD called “The Meaning of Life.” The back copy states that it
was made from a cassette found on the side of the road bearing the
same title. He’s really difficult to listen to, for a couple of
reasons- The recordings only capture Mark’s side of the
conversation and they seem to have been recorded either by a
microphone placed somewhere in the room or possibly while Mark was
standing outside on a windy day. More importantly, he is insane.
Completely, violently insane.
Mark
claims to be both a time traveler and a descendant of King David.
His family will bring about the apocalypse through the activation of
the Christ Android, currently dormant inside the 12 Planet. And also
that the 50 richest families in the world are trying to do him in.
Covertly, of course. Also against him is Donna Summer, the Devil.
(Whether he means the disco Donna Summer, or WFMU’s
own Jason Forrest isn’t clear.)
Here
then, are three selections from Mark’s version of reality:
If
you need more Mark from NJ, Aquarius
Records would be happy to sell you a cd-r.
Now,
if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go cover my windows with
aluminum foil.
Posted
by Listener
Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio
Mysteries, MP3s,
New Jersey,
Religion |
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Crackpots- Meet Mark from NJ (MP3):
Comments
“The
recordings only capture Mark’s side of the conversation…”
I
don’t think any existing recording device on this earth could
have captured the other side, although Mark may disagree.
Posted
by: Goyim in the AM | December
12, 2006 at 02:42 AM
…the
link for “Android & Angel” is screwed up. Y’all may
want to fix it…
Posted
by: King Daevid MacKenzie | December
12, 2006 at 04:01 AM
Sorry
about that! I just fixed it.
Posted
by: Listener
Therese | December
12, 2006 at 09:02 AM
I
think this guy is the *real* New Jersey Devil. Look at his horns
and christ-blocking shades.
Posted
by: Steve PMX |
December
12, 2006 at 12:03 PM
Sweet
Jesus, my PoMo-radar is beeping. And a nice performance. He could
be real, I’ve known folks like him.
Posted
by: K. | December
12, 2006 at 12:52 PM
Just
sounds like someone responding to internal stimuli, there are
many people like this probably an hour’s drive from anyplace in
the Northeast. How is this different than getting enjoyment
watching a man with a club foot trying to walk?
Posted
by: bartelby | December
12, 2006 at 11:14 PM
Hello
My name is Chris Arter I am 25 and I live in New Jersey. As a
child I found two tapes made by this guy, years apart from each
other. They were both 90 minutes long. I only have one now. They
feature folk songs and disco songs. He never mentions his name
but I found out his full name is Mark Wayne Mohr and he was born
in 1954 by looking up material that he mentions he copyrighted on
the cassette. I’ve had this tape for about 14 years and have
never been able to find anything on him except his name and the
names of other copyrighted material that he has registered. Some
of his songs are actually pretty nice. And the tape like you
describe only captures his side of a conversation with a 7’7″
tall fellow named shorty. Bar none still the most entertaining 90
minutes I’ve ever experienced.
Posted
by: Chris
Arter | March
06, 2007 at 06:27 PM
I
clicked on the Aquarius link to find Mark from NJ’s CDR, but it
was no longer listed.
Posted
by: maledoro | August
07, 2007 at 06:54 AM
Aaah,
very happy to get some info on this guy! One of his recordings
has been used on the track “The Christ Android”, on the album
“Memory Hole” by Kevin Moore (of Chroma Key, and ex-Dream
Theater keyboardist). That’s what prompted me to find out what
this nonsense single-sided argument was all about. Thanks a lot!
Posted
by: Fairlight | September
22, 2008 at 02:34 PM
I’ve
been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple
towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his
(about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under
the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there
ideas.
Posted
by: Ghostlight | October
30, 2008 at 08:19 PM
I’ve
been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple
towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his
(about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under
the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there
ideas.
Posted
by: Ghostlight | October
30, 2008 at 08:21 PM
I’ve
been researching this guy. He lives in Hammonton NJ, a couple
towns away from me. One of my friends also found a tape of his
(about 10 years ago). Mark is a hardcore blogger writing under
the handle Mountainpen. He’s got some seriously out there
ideas.
Posted
by: Ghostlight | October
30, 2008 at 08:25 PM
http://mountainpen.wordpress.com/
Posted
by: Goyim in the AM | February
24, 2009 at 05:04 PM
Hi.
I got to this page while reading about music played on the ‘Jews
Harp’. I’ve been searching, for a loooong time, for a song
that was played one lazy August afternoon on WFMU, around 1980,
or earlier.
It
was a rendition of ‘My Favorite Things. The vocals of the main
melody were accompanied by only a Jews Harp (…”Whiskers on
Kittens, etc…”) And when it came to the chorus, it was sung
monotone, by several voices…very weird, slowly, dragging,
groaning (‘theeeese aaaaare aaaaa feeeeewwww of myyyyy
faaaaavoooriiiite”.
When
it got to “Things”, it was sung in a kind of higher,
psycho-sounding, very melodic voice, like celebrating the word
‘things’.
Is
there anyone here who knows and appreciates WFMU, who might know
what the song title and author was, or how I can get a copy of
it?
It’s
been so long, and I’ve found every other weird and funny song
I’ve ever heard except for this one.
On
that same show on WFMU, they also Played Godley & Creme’s
‘Sandwiches of You’
I’ve
listened to hundreds of versions of ‘My favorite Things’, and
it wasn’t any of those.
Thanks,
for any help. Please feel free to e-mail me, if you can. giotkr
at earthlink dot net
Posted
by: Tony NYC | May
14, 2009 at 10:44 PM
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
Krassel, 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
This
is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.
The
world is a gigantic
BROKEN
TELEPHONE
GAME.
We all played it at least once, and for anyone unfamiliar with it, a
line is formed, and at the start of the line, someone is given a
message on a note to be whispered into the ear of the person next to
them down the line. When the final person gets his or her message
whispered into their ear, they write down what they hear. It always
varies in quite extensive ways from the original note; let
me goddamn assure everybody out here. Still, I do
appreciate it people tell other people that indeed, “I
am for real”. I am you know, and basicly, no one believes
me. That is all part of these powerful Astral
Plane gods and their endless GAMES that they play with each other, as
well as all of us here in mortal life. The reason that they do
it is so simple and so hideous that all of this is being covered up
by what Mountainpen and Morianity labels, the MILITUFORCE. It is not
aliens or flying saucers, I cannot ever stress this enough. The
entire Project Bluebook was canceled permanently in December of 1969,
the very exact same time that SARAH came to me in that beyond WILD
DREAM, stole my motorcycle chain in the dream, told me that it would
be gone when I woke up and looked for it,m and sure enough, I did,
and it was really gone, and SHE WAS RIGHT!
Then came the unmistakable series of events that followed. That same
morning on the school bus with that giant slowly dissolving
CHEMTRAIL in the skies, all over the entire county lasting for more
than an hour, with six points, a full three crossing asterisk jet
vapor trail. Then a few nights or weeks later somewhere, Russ Razzy
Thaxton comes over at one in the morning to my apartment somehow
knowing that my mom would not be home, and got me to burn the only
book that told about all these wild incredible ATLANTIC
CITY PEOPLE, called by me back then in 1969, the “BOOK
OF BEACH”. As any one thing, this would all be amazing and surreal
and inconceivable enough. Yes alone and by itself, any one of these
things would be quite weird and unfathomable.
BUTButButButButBUTTTTTTTTTTTT, oh all great
Fort Pierce 2010 year Library WORD PROGRAM HACKERS, and great
wild dreaming hyperspace BUTTERCHEESE's and
daughters, walking the grounds of
Starburn Outreach Development Corporation property headquarters areas
of Pennsylvania; all of these events
happening in a succession order along a perfect linear timeline that
mortals live on while interacting in STM (Space-Time-Mind);
that is a horse of a totally OZ-CITY different damn color,
yo! The chain DREAM, the Asterisk-chemtrail, Russ coming over and
knowing my mom would be out somehow, getting me to burn my “BOB”
as I call it in an abbreviation, and finally, the end of PROJECT
BLUEBOOK occurring all at this very same point in time, a
military US AIRFORCE PROJECT that had been ongoing and operational
for more than twenty mother fucking years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
By
the way, in case anyone has ever had the thought cross their mind
that many things are posted up that only tell parts and pieces of
things that at other places on my blogs a lot more is elaborated on,
and that I the Mountainpen have done this to make each individual
viewer do their own mind bending speculations on many things about
me, well; tyou are absolutely one hundred fuckign percent CORRECT AND
ACCURATE, YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What
the Dogtown good is any of this blog besides a gargantuan absurd
WASTE OF MY TIME AND ENERGY AND YOUR TIME, if I DID NOT PLAN THINGS
THIS WAY. I mean come on, everyone is different. Each person sees
this life is slightly varying ways from all other persons. We all
know this, but we tend to forget about that truth while lost in the
endless pursuits and engagements of our daily lives of mostly damn
drudgery. Tell me in all open honesty folks, am I really wrong about
that here, yo BRAH? Now there are other things that are not working
like this on this now fourteen plus year blogging project with two
and a half years off for a major needed recuperative vacation. For
example, I did not remember on a waking level when I had that wild
dream (hyperspace-interaction) back on fucking 5 October of 2008
while living with the King family at Judge Rasso's rental home at 65
Middle Road in Hammonton (Blueberryville), NJUSAESMWG, that this was
no dream, but actually was surfacing as a repressed memory. Still,
Morianity's concept that dreams are interactions within the vast and
virtually limitless fifth dimensional hyperspace of the metaverse,
where other parts of ourselves live real physical tangible lives and
separate only due to different decisions made by all of our
alter-ego's everywhere, and thus, the psycho-analysis here is
somewhat technically accurate but is playing out on a much larger and
nearly infinite stage of possibilities. Still, that so-called dream
did actually happen right here in this waking world, while visiting
my cousins up on Long Island during the Christmas Holidays of 1972
when my daughter was a tiny child. I witnessed that horrible chase up
the stairs, and the intense anger of everyone in the house. The dream
was just myself here trying to reveal needed memories long forgotten
about, so that I would be able to tie the Atlantic City and Sarah
Krassle stuff all into things, or at least, try to. Anyone wishing to
review earlier JERSEY BLOGS that range in annual chronology between
the years of 2006 through 2009, can do so by clicking onto the five
different places that are posted so often by me that show these
earlier blogs or how to get to them so that the newer Florida blogs
from 2010 through 2020 current times, will make a whole lot more damn
sense to peeps, yo! But my point to all of this is that yes I do many
times want people to get half or less than the full story on some of
these things and then by way of their own life's experiences, start
drawing their own conclusions, beyond just stupid ass know-it-all
Mizz Listener Therese from WFMU, (Posted
by Listener
Therese on December 12, 2006 at 01:28 AM in Audio
Mysteries,
MP3s, New
Jersey, Religion
| Permalink
Tweet
This! ).
Still
folks, I love the freedoms of the democratic way and wouldn't ever do
a thing to alter any of that, and she is most definitely entitled to
her opinions, but all I'm saying here is that I hope that some other
more open minded peeps out here someday somewhere, will indeed do
just that, and not just laugh and call me the JERSEY CRACKPOT,
because I assure you that I am not fucking crazy!!!!!!!!!!! All of
these things have happened to me, and they are STILL
ONGOING right to this very goddamn day. So I believe Sir
Chester-Frank should he be right here in this apartment now and
looking over me' shoulder, would move me' hands away from this
keyboard long enough for him to type out his very fave thing and
without any Jews Harps involved at all,
“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!
The
next thing I need to do is remind my BLOGAUDIANS about the various
ways that I have told you that the Astral-Plane GODS can arrive here
in our physical cosmos system, and come here to play all of their
endless stupid games with we poor mortal frail buttwipe peeps. These
ultra high energy gigantic coins and coils have to play games to
distract themselves from the hellishness of endlessness in the
timeless Purgatory, (ASTRAL-PLANE). Only high intensity games can
indeed seem to successfully distract these GODS/GODDESSES from this
nightmare 'condition-interaction'. To quote Sir Dennis Snyder of Elm,
New Jersey, “And that's just reality, son”. But more than just
reality, it is a NIGHTMARE ON MOTHER FUCKING
STEROIDS. Mortals think eternal life, or their concept of
it, is some great wonderful thing, when in truth; all
things need to be reversed to accurately depict and reflect real
TRUTH, and the BIBLE is filled with
scriptures saying just that.
Reverses being true is also shown and reflected at al off us
continually right here in waking life or on the PHYSICAL-PLANE.
The sun 'seems' to go around the Earth, (reverse-truth). The world is
obviously flat, (reverse-truth). The majority is always correct,
(reverse-truth). After-all, there are lottery
winners and there is the 'smart-money'
of the business world that comes right up in our face to absolutely
prove me' point, peeps, and you all know it! Still, everyone insists
that going with a majority just has to be right, and any moron can
see the world is flat and the sun comes up and travels across our sky
around our world, and finally goes down on the other side of it. Then
great masters of ancient wisdom's and guru's and even the greatest
master, the Lord Jesus, told us that it is better to serve than to be
served. This to the business world is absurd. How about another
famous biblical quotation to further prove me' pernts here, Sir
Archibald Bunkerqueens on or off the 'terlits'. “The last shall be
first and the first, last”. So don't tell me that my LAW OF
REVERSING SEEMINGLY TRUE ILLUSIONS, is all 'fullabulla' here, yo.
Thank you great peeps everywhere!!!!!!!!!!!
Now
there are three ways that these Astral-plane gods travel here into
mortal life. One is through the Exploratronic Supermind society (ESS)
that somehow it appears that the almighty COMCAST CABLE SYSTEM seems
to be all interconnected in through some extremely mysterious way.
This involves becoming a TYPE-3-Exploratron. I have told all about
this. The other is sending their Astral-Plane vessels into what there
is termed a 'Groupation' where many coins and coils all form together
to form what we seem to think of as Ball Lightning, or other unusual
sightings and shapes with flashing colors up in the skies. The third
way is coming here in the Nuclear-Programmed CRYSTAL formations, so
that eventually when intelligent life does spring forth such as here
in this world in modern days and times, we mine these crystals and
make all of our electronic and silicon devices, transistors, tubes in
earlier times, and chips in more modern eras. But all of this is not
possible WITHOUT CRYSTALS, and these entities have all come to PLAY
WITH US, in so many ways, and no one out here but me is onto this,
just as in that marvelous fictional SYFY TV-SHOW called, Star Trek,
TNG with ensign Wesley Crusher, and I think the episode was called,
“THE GAME” but I could be wrong. In this great show, Wesley was
the only one on the entire Starship Enterprise who became aware that
playing this game that all of the crew was playing, was causing them
all to be under the control of some alien, or some such plot, and
yes, all this shit today around all of us, and that show are indeed A
MAJOR PERFECT MIRRORED IMAGE OF TRUTH. Hollywood seems to know a lot
of powerhouse things, and I have come as a result, to the conclusion
that they are all an organized faction of the BRIGGBASE of the Astral
Realm (Purgatory), and that they are programmed to all meet up
together, so as to create our EARTHLY CHAPTERED ENTERTAINMENT
WORLD. I do not believe it is a coincidence at all that my own
daughter was meant to be a part of all of this either. But all these
things can be discussed in elucidated details that would require
fifty pound textbooks on each of the numerous topics in order to
even scratch the surface of anything, since all of this is so beyond
complex. Wowzee wowzee and more goddamn wowzee's, yo!!!!!!!!!!!!! As
my operatic Aunt Barbara used to sing that late thirties song, i'll
now quote the lyrics to it trhat ui sent to the United States Office
of Copyrights © in 1988 or 1989 somewhere, “Can it be true”?
Jesus Holy Moly hellfire, can this all be true? Well, I say
YESSSSSSS, lovely Erica 1983 snakes Cane from 'All My Children'. I do
not expect anyone else to believe it all, but I hope that some
smarter folks will see that where there is smoke in this world;
normally, there indeed IS FIRE!
END
TRANSMISSION.
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