SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0313
7:41 PM-EST, MONDAY, ML KING DAY,
16 JANUARY, 2012
THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“RETRIEVED PRIOR-LOST 0311-A BLOGGING WORKS”
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN, © 2006-2012
I SWEAR THAT TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY TO
REMEMBER AND KNOW, ALL THESE FACTS ARE TOTALLY
TRUE AND ACCURATE, WITH NO OMISSIONS OR
DELETIONS WHATSOEVER, AND THIS OATH IS VOLUNTARILY
TAKEN, UNDER FULL PENALTIES FROM MY STIPULATION
OF THIS FACT, BE IT THROUGH PERJURY OR LIBEL, ETC.
START OF THIS BLOG:
Powerful supernatural paranormal esoteric forces are involved in the work of Morianity and the Mountainpen. Nothing new is happening at all as far as this is concerned.
Both my trouble maker neighbors kicked in today in the late afternoon with music and door slamming, and normally, I can feel the negatively charged energy channeled against me through their physical beingness, one at a time, but more recently, the attacks seem to come simultaneously. Still, without spy equipment, how they seem to know every time I do stuff, such as get on my computer? Think about this rationally for a moment folks. The keyboard is practically soundless, not as in the olden days of noisy typewriters that could wake the dead. Also, if I do not activate my stereo amp and mixer, and tune the mixer channel to the one of the eight channels that my computer audio is connected and bussed into; all is silent, and even if I do listen; it is through headphones, as my stuff is private, and none of my fucking neighbors' business whatsoever. Still, today was not as bad as all of last week, not by a small comparative factor to say the fucking least, peeps, YO.
OK folks, I did the best I could after reading over SJ-CH. 0311-A, to figure out much of what did not get told as a result of the blog originally written by me, being STACEY LATTISAW JACK HACK ATTACKED AWAY, AND WIPED FREAKING CLEAN. Just how it was done, who knows? Hackers can work wonders when they really want to, and many things seem so utterly fantastic, until the magic tricks and the technology is eventually revealed to you and the bunny then falls out of the magicians hat, as Gene Roddenberry and his great crew, tried so desperately to send this message out and few if any really got it in my opinion, when Capt. Picard was worshiped upon occasion by a backward civilization who was revealed the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, and mistook our so-called descendants for the gods.
I asked the cat, Gawky Gaukauk, or used the GAWNUM Technology to say this in non-slang, and was given the PCN-187, wow, gee, like shock-shock-shock-shock, DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Many pertinent items are PRIVATE COSMICODED NUMBER 197, or the GAWNUM-ROOT #18. Listing just a few, 'Cifaloglio', 'monster-ass', 'Nick Cannon', 'Radio Shack', 'Peter Hasse', 'Sarah Karge', 'hyperspace', 'Long Island', and 'time travel'. Again, DUH. I am really so revealed and enlightened, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let me tell you peeps, you can laugh and scoff at Gawky Gaukauk's Numerological Technology, or “THE GAWNUM”, and as loud and hard as you so desire. Roll around on the floor and pretend Harold Loyd is entertaining you and your entire dinner is all over the carpet and you're just rolling in it. Go ahead. But I know how incredible shit like the FASCITAR and the GAWNUM is, and that puts me way ahead of every scoffer and ha-ha freak out here, so laugh on, rock on, and go-ef-yourself, as that is all on you, boo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know what I know, and need not shout it out from as many stories in the air as my name is equal to, in English alphanumeric value, in my case, 97, with or without any help from dirt bag ed McMahon and his PP, or my PP who lightened my walled considerably, empty letters, or transdimensional songs. Wow BRAX and PU, you all knew some wild shit about me then, too bad you wouldn't come clean and tell me, ya' worthless bitches.
Yes Mariloo Carpenter, you gave me the coolest roulette system in the universe, and I play it almost every day. During streaks of real bad times, winning games average me 2.1 units after house vig hits. When things quiet down a little and the HUNTINGTON CURSE gets off my back a little bit, these winning games average me closer to 6.9 units. My win and lose ratio game-wise, seems to be holding around 97:3 maximum, bouncing at a tolerance of less than 2.5 percent. Eventually, all systems come down, and this will as well, but it is a fantastic system for attacking the game of roulette, because it seems to incorporate the key to life, as the numbers most important to the All Mighty Goddess, Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, these being #3 and #4, are built directly into the way the main calculations are done that never alter whether you play fifteen spins after the play to begin is signaled, or a million and fifteen, and I know this because right away, unlike other systems that I know would change, my knowledge in basic mathematical function and mechanics, tells me that nothing alters, and that may be the ingredient that all other systems have lacked, and is why curves always do eventually seem to decline on some observable curve, if given long enough outcome play generated runs, performed by computer programs such as the one mentioned on other prior blogs such as one done by Rob Provenzono back in 1988. IMHO, smart peeps in MENSA ranges and with strong math under their belts, all ready have some idea of what this might be about. As I type and speak electronically now at 8:22 PM-EST, the WOMO enemy that is controlling anything whatsoever that is existing on this Physical Plane of reality, that is either mechanical, electrical, or biological in nature; is giving me a nasty heart skipping and arrhythmia attack. If I do not survive to post up, I was murdered by all persons that I talk about on previous blogs that have done me extreme serious wrong and injustice through many past years and decades of time, YO. Translation, this is one of many premeditated murder attempts on me, by these disgusting and revolting sub-animals. Spiritually, these twisted and diseased trash need to use Hubble Telescopes to look up at the world of the reptiles, let along some nice smelly gooey whale shit. My heart is beating normally and in regular rhythm and speed once again, still, enemies stand accused.
Let me open things up by telling you that when my other blog that originally was just going to be Safe Journal #0311, and not A or B, was being typed, lots of things were in good order, and now they will be at least complete, but the order may seem to be a bit jumbled and skipped around. Sorry, I was hacked, this was not my fault, and at least things are restored again after this posts up, and with WOMO, things like this are a blessing, abnd beggars can never be choosers. In addition to this, I came to learn first hand while renting a home with my mother in Gibbsboro, New jersey from 1991 through 1993, that timing and order is a powerful ingredient in both my life as well as in the life of those around me, all of us, and even and perhaps most especially, my enemies, the mighty WOMO, the MILITUFORCE, the human world doppelgangers of the residents of the frightening Astral-Plane BRIGGBASE. Yes they are perhaps even the most sensitive, to timing; while they exist inside a time dimension such as this waking life, here in caporial and tangible 5th dimensional hyperspace, as with more power and ability to control, comes the need for better power and control of their needed perfect timing, so that things don't so to speak, all blow up in their faces, and expose them to global ridicule while simultaneously vindicating all the poor so called delusional psychotic whack job tin foil nut cases like poor me. Yes, they need to be quite careful, but right now, allow me please to focus on me and my need as well to keep this as my top and ultimate priority. Here now in following paragraphs, are some ouit of order re-do texts and materials folks, to be examined at your perusal in combination and connection with the blog of SJ-CH. #0311-B. Remember that if not for the hacking job, this blog and that blog would all be one text, only better compressed together, and not pieced together jumbling as they now must be, as how else can it be done. I am not into taking a blog down off of a website abnd trying to retype an entire project, I am not yet at that comfort level, in not only these machines, but due to my personal problems with hacking, Huntington Curses, and other nameless problems, that all tend to work as a collusive against me from time to time, just when I most need to get a blog out; as if THEY just know this. It is so awesome and surreal and unfathomable; but you try living my life, under their hell; for nearly six decades, and then folks; you would then know what it is like, to be in my nightmare fucking shoes, at C-Squared. So getting now into some of these jumbled up and perhaps seemingly jumbled rambling stories, try and just bear with me, and watch the amazing story develop itself as it goes, crissake, I only wish I had this kind of an imagination, I would be able to buy out Hollywood abnd make a trillion ass dollars!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sarah told me the two verses that I mentioned back in 1969, on Tennessee Avenue, and both times she spoke them not directly to me, yet SHE did make absolutely sure that I was there to hear the words that she spoke, as clear and plain as day itself, that is clear as when the skies are not filled with the timetubes. You know them perhaps as the chemtrails. Six in one, half a dozen in the other. Yes Donna, your signal from the great fish, may indeed be saying, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,EEEEEEEEEEEEE, but last night, I was in a large building in a parallel universe, or I was (dreaming) as the world may put it; and suddenly found myself aware and awake in a twin me-body, and was on a bed doing a very strange and unfamiliar type of meditation. In a very loud voice, I was going, “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” and following that, immediately was going, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” Back and forth, I seemed to be making the straight line vowel sound back and forth of EEEEEE and AAAAAA, over and over again, in a loud voice, and then everything around me grew slower and quieter, eventually totally silent and totally still. When I 'awoke' from this, I instantly took the letters, the letter-5 or 'E' and the letter-1 or 'A', and placed them as the GAWNUM ROOT of 51, creating the PCN-514. This PCN in a powerful 'dream' has to have some kind of a significance. I had an aunt who read plays in Hollywood almost 100 years ago, Maud Huntington Benjamin, her maiden name did not include the man she married, and Maud Huntington, the lady whop woke up out of a dead sleep saying the words, “POTATO TEACUP” over and over one day while my mom was over visiting as a little girl; has the PCN-514. This same PCN matches many things, some listed items that I have besides my great aunt Maud, include, “BEACH”, “CURLS”, “RUSSELL THAXTON”, “MOVING COMPOUND”, and “ENDLESS POVERTY”. My Aunt could see electromagnetic fields around folks in many bright colors, psychics call this seeing halos or auras. She frightened my mom when she was young with her strange mysterious powers, sort of the pre-generation of Paula and her Dark shadows behavior with my daughter a long time ago. Adults do tend to forget just how scarey a place this world can indeed seem to the young children, especially because their senses are tuned higher and really this means one sense is, the sense of FEEL. Some touch something and say it is hot. Others can feel an argument in a room before they enter it. Others can know something does not feel right with a loved one who boarded an airplane hours back, then turns on the television and to their horror and dismay, an announcer comes on and says that the plane crashed and no survivors were to be found. This sense of feel is adjustable, we all have it, some have tuned it way up, and by choice more than having it seem to be thrust upon them, some try to acquire it and practice tuning it, others scoff totally, and so on and so forth, but it is not a supernatural or abnormal thing that is happening. It is as natural as when it is tuned down to the lowest level and somebody hands us a hot cup of yummy Christmas cocoa, and we instantly say, YO, bring me a saucer honey, it's too hot to freaking hold. Dawn King one day back in 2007 got drunk as she used to love to do, and fell on the streets of Hammonton-Berryville, and as a result, lost most of the feeling in one of her hands. Some have no hands, they were blown off in the war, perhaps a birth defect robbed them of hands, still they can rub up against an object with their lower arm and feel something. We can always get more into the so-called truth about paranormal psychic reality, and why there is no 6th sense, merely the sense of feel that is tuned higher or lower, depending on the person.
Let us talk about the many poor so-called deranged folks suffering from the condition of hearing voices. There is a science called the ETTOS, standing for Electromagnetic Thought Transmission and Omission System. There also is computer fucking hacking, I had to retype this past sentence. Some fucking stupid combination of keys hit by accident while attempting to rapidly type and hit the CAPS button, seems to fucking knock off a prior fucking sentence, either this is so, or I am being fucking violated and hacked and my civil and constitutional fucking rights are being violated. Now back to radio frequencies and the ETTOS technologies of both the present, near past, and more distant times ahead. RF is Radio frequency. Frequency Modulation or FM-RF, is basically used in a transmitted way, on carrier wavelengths laying in-between clear stations on analog-FM bandwidths, and this usage is not all benign, nor is it all totally evil and dangerous, but it can be. All one has to do is tune to numerous places on an FM-Analog receiver system, put on a good pair of headphones, and listen while all the machines around you make sounds into your headphones. Change volume or station on cable television, change settings on VCR-DVD machines, activate a computer and click or type, all things if you tune to where it is happening near to your proximity, are indeed making a RF-FM connection. These signals can be scanned from outside our homes from peeps in dish trucks that you will not recognize at all, and they may or may not have a sign on them that say, Johnny's Laundry Service or Leanne and Robs Deli. Satellites from outer space, both orbital stationary or orbital mobile types, usually they'd be stationary and matching the planet's orbit, but however and whatever, none of these parlor tricks are bullshit or even far out, they are basic and yesterday technological methods of electronically getting into all of out systems, and then they can send disruptive signals causing numerous events, such as breaking our stuff entirely, or temporarily making them cease to operate, or making them work weirdly, and on and on and on this list can go, and it is not some huge ass magic, just simple radio technology. The bigger shit is how to transmit to the human brain, and send not only thoughts to us, but also remove thoughts from us, and not only thoughts, but take emotions from us or give them to us or amplify them making us go off and do something really stupid and end up in prison. Once you know this is all real, you always need to be on freaking guard to protect yourself against shit like this, and who cares how many cunt lappers scream at us that we are crazy, just as long as we survive and stay out of a looney bin or a fucking prison? There are ways to transmit from up to 200 feet distance, into anyone's mind, and do it in their own thought sound. Did you ever notice that when we think, we do not think in the voice of Donald Duck, not unless we make the effort to do this, nor do we think in our bosses voice, or parent's, or children's, neighbors, friends, associates, not unless we make the conscious effort to and have been around that sound enough to properly even be able to, no; we think in our OWN SOUND. So when our own sound is blasted into us, why would we not then think it is our own thought? The only way to stop an advanced attack, is to combat it chemically, and then you are permanently on their system, I speak of course of having your psychiatrist write you prescriptions for numerous available psychotropic medicines. This chemical interaction can indeed stop the worst transmission attacks, and do, patients manage quite well, but side effects are horrendous, and also, you are on the system, your credibility is shot forever, and no one will ever take an article such as this that is being written, seriously, as you are nothing but a fucked up sike case, YO. This has all been planned and figure out a century ago for purposes of warfare, back in the days when psychiatry was new, all new disciplines are immediately used for warfare, that is the way the scum bag military works, always has, and always will. This began with the founding fathers of this discipline such as doctor Sigmund Freud.
Now moving on beyond this, SARAH spoke two major things, not directly to me, but making sure that I was in perfect earshot both times to hear HER, still she was talking once to peeps in an automobile, and another time to HER girlfriend, comparing amounts of suntan that they had acquired that season, I suppose. The peeps in the car were being given information about where there friends were located. This was never the point however. SARAH knew that if SHE had spoken to me, I would have never remembered any of the details, it would be too direct an approach. Being subtle and indirect however, was HER way of making me remember Her, decades later after the summer of 1969 had long fallen into history. There was no importance at all to either of these two things spoken by HER on 10-SC avenue that year. Only that I heard and remembered, HER, and via HER VOICE. This is the science behind subliminal consciousness control, even to the point where after it was studied and used successfully on movie theater goers, it eventually became illegal to use its applications on the public to get them to behave in ways they would not otherwise do, not all that much differently than a method to make someone remove their wallet and put it down and walk away, or have a lady place her handbag down and forget it, and then there is rape. On top of that, there are unlimited things that can be done, and Robert McGuire did them to both myself and my friend Ed Lynch in October of 2006, while we were innocently taking website photographs on “his street”, in Atlantic City. He destroyed my car and punched us a few times and then made us forget it all, but when we went to develop the film, there he was, AM I RIGHT, ATLANTIC COUNTY NEW JERSEY PROSECUTORS OFFICE, after-all, you have the fucii9ng website that I legally paid ed to create for me, called www.morianity-foundation.com/ ?
Thern there is the SANITIZING OF INFORMATION. Google around and you may get a little bit of truths here and there. Try getting the scoop however ion the mass murder and suicide of the mighty and scarey HUNTINGTON family, up in Braintree, Massachusetts, on February second, back in 1948 or 1949, I forget, it was one or the other of these years folks. The sanitized version has no one hearing any voices of Amittyville Demons, never tells how my great uncle Arthur axed off my aunt Alice's head in her sleep, went upstairs next and axed off his mother in law's head, and then went down into the basement and hung himself. No DeGama Letts Luts Herby perpetual demon-motion or RF-FM signals, just cold hard facts being rained in, right SEARS????????????????????????????? Then how sanitized up is the rest of Victoria Winters and her Collins Family Bible? Start with my own daughter for the sake of the gods. As for mood changes, man I have personally witnessed every bit of the shit you will see on that remade 'Ammityville Horror' movie from 2005, so “Get to work, buddy”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love that fucking kid, that to me is the coolest and funniest part of the entire fucking ass show. All this supernatural shit is a toaster oven hoax. A pack of lies to sell Hollywood. It is not the Hollywood that my great aunt Maud knew and loved back so long ago, when I was writing waltzes for my wonderful Sarah. Sarah Karge was born on July the 18th back in 1896, and was the love of my life, as Adolf Hitler. No one on this Earth knows the story of how I came to Trenton and fell in love with this incredible teen aged goddess. Well, one girl knows, if she is not blocking it all with the Venka Strong Girl Syndrome of 1970. When I killed myself after all of the hell that I caused this world, I remember seeing snow all over, and then finding myself crying and a doctor hitting me while I puked out mucous. I was getting born again, but not in any christian way, over ion Brwn Mawr, Pennsylvania. By the time I was about four years old and was placed in a dark room at night, I remembered almost every single part of my life as Hitler, Franklin, and 'Indian River'. By the age of ten, they were totally covered over by my conscious mind. Still, one day when I was six, my parents took me to a strange park while they sat in the car arguing obviously about money, my dad the treasure hunter, my mom the practical wife and homemaker. Things not meant for a six year old pair of ears needed to be discussed, so I ended up on a merry-go-round, and I was the only one there. Suddenly, many people were all there, just there, from all my past lives in physicality. I instantly just made them all go away, and after shutting my eyes a while and opening them up, there was my Sarah, asking me if she could ride the merry-go-round with me. I finally allowed her to tune in, and I slowed down the wheel and she got on. We starred at each other and I knew it was you, my Sarah, I knew; just as I know it was you when you reappeared to me as a woman in your seventies on Tennessee Avenue in that shop in the sixties. You can always come to me in Astral Body, at least until the end of 1969. Then you began coming to me as a grown goddess. Tall, strong, beyond hot and awesome, my lovely Sarah Jacobson, at my Haddonfield, New Jersey school. If you knew how bad I wanted to take you home with me and fuck your brains out and spend the rest of my life loving you, you would have lost your freaking mind. I will never ever let you go, my SSJKK, NOT EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was you on 10-SC Avenue both times when you spoke those words. It was you when you came to me and took my motorcycle chain away and told me that you needed it for your great city. Then I awoke and it was gone, and then on the way to school, a giant asterisk chemtrail or TIMETUBE showed me how you had come to me, all the tricks of Bethlehem, in or out of Pennsylvania. Yes MI SARAH, please know that I will never ever forget you, not in a hundred forty quintillion years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Some of the things that will be discussed on the next blog will be how my life altered again, so major, after early June of 2010 at south Beach on Hutchinson Island, Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG. How somebody played loud church bells at me in the ocean and seemed to know that I was about to stand up out on the water just to get a reaction, and I knew it was my SSJKK telling me, no, don't do it, and then along came a huge shark and it looked at me, and I knew I was not the greatest fish after-all, and needed to obey my super girl Jenny Johnson Teen Queen Goddess, huh Mister McGuire? We'll get more specific on many of these topics, as well as so much more on Haddonwood and the middle nineties, all the shit leading into the 21st century, Levy getting elected Mayor, his connections into THAT-FAMILY-70, and the test-bots all around us with total super human physical strength. It is not a miracle, they can do all if this now, I have been carefully viewing the shows and television documentaries on Science Channel, history-2, and many powerful great informative stuff that beats the shit out of the other total ass crap on TV. I have figured out so much about you my wonderful SARAH, and if it takes me a vigintillion freaking years, you and I will be together, my l;ong haired lute player. Thank you for using me to come here and be the greatest musician ever. I was happy to be of service, BROWN EYED GIRL, (BEG), wolf-wolf, that is why we are all barking, huh Copyright Office of 2007, YO???????????????????????? Tell PK I am still flying once in a while, and not over the radar, that would not be such a good idea. She does not have to hang up, she can tell me when to call he back, you know. Please don't run over Art Crane at the Wal-Mart store either, great PK. Wow, you really have ways of getting around. I saw old Art back at my last SORA-18 test, in voorhees, right down the road from where 1802Robin hill is, and where so many things were copyrighted from, right my old friend Tom Glenn? I enjoy sharing the page with you, glad you and the football peeps got together, I always said you had marvelous talent. You know, Jan Nace became a California stock broker soon after the last time I saw you, in case you're interested. You know how I feel about those crooks on Wall Street. If they'd play by the rules, I would bless them and hope they make a trillion bucks a day. I just hate evil crooks Tom old pal. Old paranoid me, I still think they tried to ice you in that hospital fire, don't tell Mizz Benitar I'm making fun of her great song.
As for the Alison Wonderland late-late beach man of 1969, it is the story of SAINT PETER all over again folks. He did not want Jesus to leave and be crucified. No one tells SSJKK what to do. He tried to keep Jesus here and said to him, let this never happen to you, and Jesus called the poor dude, SATAN. Well, in truth, Jesus knew the World Labs were transmitting ETTOS stuff to his mind, but in keeping with the times, you get the story. He came back here as a hobo on the Jersey beaches. Frank Callio knew him well. He tried to stop things again from happening that SCYLLA had all ready planned. Doesn't work Pete, ol' bud', I should frickin; know. You were both late, and too late, as she loves to tell it, HA-HA-HA!!!!
Well lads and lassies and Labradors, time sure got away tonight, I thought I would blog about an hour, abnd here it is quarter past ten, and I need to eat, bathe, and crash.
BYE-BYE 4 now, y'all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!END OF THIS BWOG ELMER FWUDDDDDDD.
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