AND
NOW I KNOW THAT I KNOW
CHAPTER
000001
2:31
ANTE'
MERIDIAN
MONDAY
MORNING
4
NOVEMBER, 2019
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, USA, ESMWG
MOUNTAINPEN'S
LUNAR PHASING CYCLE CHART:
MONDAY,
NOVEMBER 4, 2019
CURRENT
PHASE IS: FIRST QUARTER MOON
N.M.
WXC1 WXC2 WXC3 WXC4 WXC5 WXC6 WXC7 F.Q.
WXG1 WXG2 WXG3 WXG4 WXG5 WXG6 WXG7 F.M. WNG1 WNG2 WNG3 WNG4 WNG5 WNG6
L.Q. WNC1 WNC2 WNC3 WNC4 WNC5 WNC6 N.M.
FULL
MOON ACTUALLY MEANS
THAT IT IS 12 NOON ON
THE MOON.
The
MILITUFORCE has wiped out MY
ENTIRE LIFE! But who is this mighty MILITUFORCE?
Hmm;
let us keep moving this along!
First,
somebody thinks it funny, old pal Bob McDowell,
Retired Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, and sir;
to hack out the 'Deja Vu Sans' font, it will not
Johnny effen faster work, with the font set to a bold type, and it
vanishes every time. Remember last time they screwed with me on this
font, me' old friend from the Cooley-Wormhole
Marola Hall, of Hopkins Memory Lane,
back early in the damn seventies?
Funny,
is it not, world? Real funny, HA HA HA! People who laugh too much are
like cackling hens and giggling school girls, and no, I MOST
CERTAINLY DO NAUT HIT OR SPIT ON ANY BUSES, you ASSHOLES FROM QUACK
ER
CLOWN,
PENNSYLVANIA, USA, ESMWG. Really, what
are the odds, that my old pal becomes the FCC CHAIRMAN? For all you
atheists out here, you have an incredible ability to see a lot of
things in very bland ways, and I am not going to lie to a one of
you; as I ENVY YA', DUDES AND DUDDESSES; even though I know you are
all full of it, at light speed cubed, Cuban, and lottery winning
price patrolling nightmares, songs, letters, and
daughters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And here it comes again, BOB MCDOWELL, FCC,
the (`~HACK) YO YO YO YO YO!!!! Now they tried to do the (WORD
DISAPPEARING HACK, OLD BUDDY AND KIND SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOW,
THIS IS GETTING DAMN EXTREMELY INTENSE,
TO QUOTE ONE OF MY FANS, WHO I SHALL NEVER KNOW, WEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Oct
24,
2019 12:00 PM – Oct
31,
2019 11:00 AM
|
-
-
-
-
-
- Name: theansweristheqyuestion
- Location: Hammonton, New Jersey, United States, Earth, Sol, MW Galaxy
Not boring, without hesitation nor concern for fibbing, I can
honestly say with a knowing that out of 8 billion that live or have
lived here, none have shared my wild ride through hyperspace, with
awareness
Previous Posts
LINKS
TO MY ORIGINAL 2006-2009 New Jersey Blogs:
GLOBAL
BLOG POPULARITY IN SHADED RATIO COLORING
The
old adage that many learned of while in childhood went, “When
I was a child, I spoke as a child”. Life
is a learning process, and WE ALL ARE
MAKING IT UP AS WE ENDLESSLY MOVE
ON, RIGHT UP UNTIL WE BREATH NO LONGER. When we cannot know
things for sure, then our minds will attempt to rationalize things so
that we can live with what is surrounding us, and what we have little
to no control over. That is, to quote Dennis Snyder from Elm, New
Jersey, “JUST REALITY SON”! He tells it
quite true, yo.
No
intelligent bible reader can dispute, when they study with careful
scrutiny, all the writings concerning biblical prophets and dream
interpretations; that Morianity is saying anything that concerns that
subject, that is in dispute. Someone with a lower level of
intelligence may not be able to see this truth, but it is the truth.
I do not go against any of the stuff that discusses the
interpretations of dreams. They appear to come from a realm that is
separate from here in waking life, and yet, is absolutely connected
in some coded way, and this coding process is merely given a name in
Morianity, by the Mountainpen, called, 'TSE' (Towel
Seepage Effect).
I
told on early New Jersey blogs, how Olivia Newton John in hyperspace,
in an alternate reality, had drowned in a river. Taking this, along
with her connections with the BEEGEE Music Group for an example, and
seeing the TSE, goes into major if not uncountable items, for those
who remember the movie about LIFE-EDITING that she starred in shortly
after I had this wild 'dream'. I know now with absolute certainty,
that the LAMBRIGG CULTISTS
of the ASTRAL-PLANE,
have all agreed to come into this waking life GAME
ARENA (GASME),
to do incredible things in a place called, HOLLYWOOD,
CALIFORNIA, USA. Behind this already wild stuff, is the
even greater and larger truth, that is called by Mountainpen's
Morianity, the PHASE-4 phenomenon. This is a groupation of
Astral-Entities (existers) of a timeless reality, who attempt as they
lose energy and begin to dream out into the blown out fifth
dimensional hyperspace, to violate the basic physical plane laws of
nature, coming here in ways that others within those laws of the
(LAWTRONICS), would be too easily conquered and or controlled by them
and their special wild abilities/powers. This is why SUPERMAN ended
up as a comic book character, because a real astral entity indeed
attempted to dream here as just this person, and the Lawtronics of
the system, converted him into a PHASE-4-BEING, which is none other
than the imagination and fantasy of a writer or other creator, and
thus removing their physicality from the space-time-mind system
completely (STM). Now shortly after I had this river drowning
nightmare in the summer time of 1980, the BEEGEES stole the
arrangement on my 'LOST LOVE' song, created by my music arranger,
Mister Tom Glenn. Then a couple years later, out came that weird
movie about life editing where life itself was on a tape, and someone
was rewinding it and making alterations, and Olivia NJ was in this
show. In addition, my cousin Donald made a really big deal out of the
life editing thing, several years after that and somewhere around the
time that I was having my intense problems with attempting to locate
the mysterious girl from my past in Atlantic City, NJUSAESMWG, the
great SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE. Before trekking onward, it is important
to tell one HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE item in more elucidated detail.
If this entity had not done what she did with my CHAIN, followed by
that wild SKY MESSAGE CHENTRAIL incident an hour later on my school
bus, I would have never suddenly did all of the things that I did two
and a half decades later when I began that fantastic inconceivable
quest and search to locate this wild 'person'. Of course, you all
know by now, AATS, and any other Blogaudians out here, that I do not
believe this to be just a mere 'person'. I am among quite a large
groupation in fact, who believes that this so-called ALMIGHTY GOD
(GODDESS) WHATEVER, comes to this Earth as a human being whenever it
pleases this energetic entity, who says its name is 'I-AM'. It came
here as Jesus, it came here before that to talk to the other magical
Sarah and her hubby, and it came again as SARAH of 10-SC Avenue, and
if I am correct, it is back here now as MY DAUGHTER. Of course, I
cannot prove a thing. Still, I now know that I know this, and it is
only important to me, what I know.
This
did not begin in Atco in 1983, yet it all was a part of the whole. It
did not begin with Mister Smith at Cooley Hall either, but again, was
definitely a part of the whole, right down to that wild knowing and
waking vision given me by HER obviously, concerning the farm that was
just outside of Haddonfield, New Jersey, that I spoke of to Mister D.
L. Smith on several occasions. It did not even begin for me in the
seventies with all of that wild crap that has been blogged and told
now for nearly fourteen years, the very amount of time that I had
lived when I had last physically seen Sarah on 10-SC Avenue. Things
all tied in long long before any of that, and it appears that GASME
GAMES are just one big giggle laugh!
HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!!!
Run
For The Roses
ONLY
GAMES can explain why an
innocent person
such as myself IS CHOSEN
by these FAWCES, for absolutely
no apparent reason, and made to suffer
through an entire LIFETIME
of endless
horrendous dogsmell on
goddamn steroids!!!! A
major ass mother sucking event happened to me today, 'MISSING
TIME'. This
is a major part of the UFO phenomenon, as well as all
of the studies into the supernatural,
paranormal, occult
(HIDDEN) topics of the EARTH-PLANET
ever since humankind has managed to crawl out of the oceans!!!!!! Let
us just take a few things, despite Almighty
Knowitall Egg Harbor City, New Jersey, Divided Parties of
America, ESMWG, Mizz Terry Scatterbrain
Egghead, and examine them in light and in lieu of what I
have said so far on this blog from total DOGTOWN
(HELL)!!!!!!! The very same FAWCES
that got those RPL
OVERAGE
FILE
RECORD
ALBUMS
to end up at the end of October in the year 1980, in my living room
apartment, at 1802 Robin Hill, in Voorhees, NJDPAESMWG, ARE THE VERY
EXACT SAME FAWCES, Mister Hall sir, that are causing my NABES FROM
HELL to this very day and hour, forty
years later up here in the future from back there, to
persecute and harass me to death,
as they did to me on this monstrous horrible July 1, 2019 DAY FROM
DOGTOWN ITSELF!!!! Yes there was
no missing time today, BUTTERCHEESE and BIG ASS BUTT YO, there was
crap so horrible that THIS WAS THE ABSOLUTE WORST
HORRENDOUS DAY IN THE LAST TWENTY YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Here
is what was done to me today, SHERIFF
MASCARA, me' kind awesome wonderful sir, YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO YO
YO!!!!!!!! The same things that have been going on 'day after day,
week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after
decade, century after century, and millennium after millennium',
Mister Bob Barker, Former Host of the GASME-GAME-SHOW
called, “The Price Is Right”.
Why bother to even type out the details, sir? YYYYYY JIMMY
YYYYYY?????? It just continues and continues
and continues, oh wonderful and
illustrious Mister Jim Burr of Gloucester City, NJUSAESMWG.
GASME GAMES are why many wild tapes made it
down here to Florida with me ten years ago, huh Mister BonJovi,
but just not the conversation that day at
the LAMP, with Jim.
ONLY
MOTHER
SUCKING GAMES
can
explain this whole ugly rotten diseased mess straight out of the
gates, quite literally, and yes Spellchecker, thermonuclear gates of,
DOGTOWN, so let's discuss this dog stench for a while,
peeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Remember back when my blogs were new in
2006 and 2007, while blogging using the laptop belonging to Mister
Eddie 'Himacane' Lynch,
and I would type things such as two
and it would come out 'tow',
or use
and it would come out 'sue'
or games
of the gods, and it would come out as 'gasme'
which is merely games scrambled up alphabetically, yo? Still we're
left to ponder and wonder and query on the concept here of 'GAS
ME',
since someone
may have done just that on June the 4th
in
the year of 1983,
while I resided in that house of quintessential mystery. Owned by
real estate investor Mister Jerry Pliner, at 134 Norris (kicker
garages)
Avenue, in Atco, NO
JOYSEY,
DPAESMWG! As I typed that out, the old 'space-bar-hack'
was
given to me making the words all weird and in need of repair. Still,
this is a large wild crazy ass world, and quite an amazing place too.
Still, in all the online cyber village called INTERNET, I am just
about positive that there is no other writing anywhere that tells the
truth about the gods and their games, and the reasons for them, which
is of course, a distraction for them, away from the HELLISHNESS
of
ENDLESSNESS.
This is a very major deal, because it is a GIGANTIC
FRICKIN' SECRET,
and has been covered up a long time, until
my MORIANITY has come along TO EXPOSE IT,
YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!
Dow Jones Industrial Average (^DJI)
Add to
watchlist
DJI -
DJI Real Time Price. Currency in USD
26,770.20-255.70
(-0.95%) (last Friday, and my major DEATH ASSAULT, Sheriff K. J.
Mascara, sir!!!!!! SEE? It never stops!
At close: 5:08PM EDT
Stock
chart is not supported by your current browser
All
copyrighted material is that of the claimant, and is not a part of
the claims of these blogs and the copyright thereof to them by me.
Folks,
the M2F
somehow 'FIXED' my damn browser in a way so that this proof
of endless mother effen' ICPE-APE-TECH can no longer be used to prove
the ILLEGAL HELL AND CRIMINALLITY BEING DONE TO AN INNOCENT VICTIM,
AND COMPLETELY LEGAL UNITED STATES 'CITIZEN', CUZZ DONALD!!!!
LIKE
HOLY MOLEY HYPER WOW; MACY BUNCH, ATLANTIC CITY, AND ALL HATERS OF
MOUNTAINPEN, AND HIS POWERFUL TRUE STORY, E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E,
YO YO YO YO YO YO!!!!!
<link
href='https://www.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization.css?targetBlogID=2872360980987997396&zx=cb916bb1-4015-4409-ad45-6070ec83b9fc'
rel='stylesheet'/>
NO
SIR AUTHORITIES, I DON'T KNOW:
So
a HUUUUUUUGE 'curse words deleted' eating 'WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE', and as
I said back in late 2015 on an older bwog, Mister Fwudd sir; a short
time after Mister Zimmerman gunned down that poor innocent teenaged
young lad, Treyvon Martin; “Let's stop all this goddamn killing
each other over silliness”, oh
people of
Planet
Earth.
Can't
you see that in a few years, this
whole world will be worse than Rikers Island,
unless
this horrible tide is turned?????? Well,
here goes me' poor whittle SPELL-CHECK pwogwam, Mister Elmer Fwudd.
Some things never change, and then to quote RPL's Chief Recording
Engineer from the year 1980, other things “Only get worse”!!!!!!!!
SHERIFF
KEN MASCARA, SIR:
I
have absolutely nothing to do with the way the United
States Copyright Office catalogs the 29 musical projects that I've
sent to them over decades of time. After the internet became
available to the general public in the early middle nineties, to the
point where it was a real entity and used by many folks who grew it
to astronomical proportions after that, THEY
made up the file on my music, and it is THEIR website. I
only copied it to my BOM blogs. In fact, they
insist my project number 29 is there, but I have gone up and I am
unable to access it. But I have learned that I have no rights
or freedoms in this nation, and the rules that apply to everybody
mother loving else, just don't apply to me. I
am not allowed to get involved in MUSIC in any way, shape, or form,
not unless I want to be turned inside out, upside down, and assaulted
by the Milituforce in covert
stealthy ways that go far beyond inconceivable, despicable, and
monstrously horrendous. So I don't even try to understand why
my copyrighted early July-2013 project,
called, “You'll Be Crossing Over/My
Youtube Project”, is not available for me to access on
the Copyright Office's web-site. In fact, I do not try to make sense
out of anything, especially after I woke up in HELL on the morning of
15 August in 1986, Sheriff Ken Mascara, sir!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Only
PINK GODDESS could pull this entire stunt off; Mister
Roddenberry, Misses Roddenberry, and the great Pillar-Berman Star
Trek-TNG crew, of all non hot beaches!
Yessir,
those wild incredible nineteen-nineties!!!
The
great PINK-GODDESS of STAR TREK;
gee, just what is going on? How many out here
know about my trip in 1972, up to Babylon,
New York, to 175 Peninsula Drive, to
visit with my mom's cousin, Ruth Huntington Gottwald, at his mansion
there? If you don't, you won't be told any details right now,
other than I always took a tape recorder with me and was obsessed
with tape recorders at that time. How many know how I was taken on a
road trip on the second day of my visit, up to the north shores of
this great Woodie Guthrie Island, and had an experience that I
blocked out of my mind for 36 years, until it resurfaced in a dream
on 5 October, in 2008? I, even then after awakening, believed
it to be just a dream, until I finally became my own head
doctor, and admitted to myself that I witnessed
a horrendous event up at my daughter's house!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DECEMBER
9, 2015,
WEDNESDAY
AFTERNOON AT 12:06,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 78 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H78-/L-66).
RELATIVE
HUMIDITY IS 76%, AND IT FEELS LIKE 82.
WIND
IS E AT 6, WITH GUSTS TO 11.
TOTAL
RAIN TODAY IN CENTI-INCHES---0006.
Today,
October 20, 2019,
I thought was gonna' be a real doozie-whopper; but the great
COSMIC-BI-POLAR
MILITUFORCE
kicked in, with another Ocean
City, New Jersey
'Surpriser-wave'
of weirdness,
after that big pig slob girl slammed her door again super ass loud,
it got quiet until well past five this evening, when suddenly, my
upstairs slobs began moving their damn annoying furniture around, and
making a gods awful racket, SHERIFF
sir. WOW THAT!
There are no
absolutes, but David Leigh Smith from
Cooley-Hall had some very wonderful advice for me that day
after I returned from Ellisberg
Circle's weird school of machine-professors.
I told on some earlier blogs a lot about this place, the Ellisberg
Circle that is, not just limiting this discussion to this school that
was there. There was mom's boyfriend, who took mom and me by car one
Saturday afternoon, in the autumn of 1969, to several stores there.
My mom needed to buy a mirror, and I was told to take it to the car,
and given the keys, so I could place it into the back seat, and then
either come back and find my mom and her boyfriend Sid, or at my
discretion, remain in the car until they completed their shopping
task. I chose to do neither, and took the mirror, and used it to
almost cause a lot of serious problems, by using it in a manner not
intended by its manufacturer, that is, to reflect bright blinding
sunlight, directly into the face of drivers. Today,
the world of this new age would have seen me in what I call, the
Abbey Carmichael Law & Order way, you know, a bad egg, a crazy
nutty adolescent who needs to just be locked away, for not conforming
and obeying and saying yes sir, no ma'am to every goddamn adult
within my daily interactivity. Hey, I wasn't a really bad ass,
but I was quite the imp who could really
piss off my mom's sort of nutty boyfriend, Sidney, without, to quote
Lenny McKinnon who I would not go onto meet for eleven years, ''any
doubt about it''.
Before
this time, back in the spring time of 1969, about a half of a year or
so, I had become friends, and not by my choosing, but everything in
this life is always my fault and I am the perpetual absolute
bad guy in all things, as I shortly thereafter have come to learn;
but yes, Brad and I did some things that were bad, and I told about
most of it, on these blogs, the first two years of them, in 2006 and
2007. But why I acted out, had something to do with being given this
somewhat wild bigger kid, who was fourteen months younger than me, in
the body of a seventeen year old, and with the physical strength to
match, and an eye for the fairer gender, and on I can go here, but
won't, since he is not here to produce his side of anything that I
might say. But yes, he was a wild customer, and quite a pistol, and a
lot more; but he was my pal, and we did become close friends; about
as close as any two young teen boys could be, who lived in the same
garden type apartment system, of those times and days. But Brad was
not the only reason that I began going a bit loco in many various
ways, such as acting out with screaming and cursing, and being
defiant with parents and authority, and feeling life was somehow
mistreating me, because crap was happening to me, beginning early in
February of that year, and going strong, month after month, in ways
that no blog could ever really hope to adequately and properly
address and define in terms that would permit normal and average type
of people, any ability to identify and or relate to me, from their
own personal private young lives. I am speaking of three major things
here, that most of you out here know, or think that you all do, to
some degree and some extent. These being, the chain and the wild teen
girl on Tennessee Avenue of Atlantic City, the train and my suddenly
remembering an entire half century or more of a lifetime, where I had
grown into a man and an adult, lived a totally failed and efed up
life, and ended up realizing that I had been repeating this loop of
nightmares, similar to being literally trapped in a hellish I-Ching
Trance, for what would seem to be about six to ten thousand years,
give or take, if all strung together. The biggest of all, was the
first Saturday in July, just shortly after Brad and his mom, Grace
Messenger, moved away, and took up residence in Cherry Hill, at the
Stievasent Towers, about two miles or more away from the Haddon Hills
Apartments. I do not have a play by play memory of the day it
happened and the exact events. It is jumbled broken up nightmarish
fragments, just exactly like the inverted digital year to follow, 27
years later, in 1996, when the great exploratron Patty-Paula, got me
a second time, and this time, was witnessed to some degree, by a
maintenance person at the apartment I was at then, called the
Highview Apartments, in Monroe Township,
Gloucester County, Williamstown, New Jersey, just down the
street from the famous Black Horse Pike, and
the Gete's Diner. My Spell-Check has
been disabled, so I need to go off and come back on, and fix my
typos. Hey, I DID!
(GOOD
OL' STM (SPACE-TIME-MIND)!!!!!
Discussing
exploratron-Patty-Paula or EPP for short, is like discussing Sarah
Krassle, as with both, this mother and daughter team have
extremely unfathomable abilities to do inconceivable and outlandish
mystical things, and they do them on a regular basis. If you do not
think about someone, yet begin to dream about them on a regular
basis, this means that they are thinking about
you. I promise you that this is true, but I am speaking
in five dimensions, not three. This applies to both of these 'people'
and yes, I do single quote the word there, as I do not know just who
or what they really truly are. The
game that Sarah wants me to play with her, seems to imply
that by its very title that she spouted off to me on P.
H. Day of 1996, and very interesting symbolic initials too if
I may add here; this game seems to be all about
indeed guessing who is 'real' and who is 'not real', or who is the
guest, which can very easily be interpreted to mean, who has
an active dreaming-doppelganger inside of
them, hence that would be the 'GUEST' that I
will need to 'GUESS', if I am to
successfully navigate my way through this physical hellish life and
this horrendous HUNTINGTON FAMILY
CURSE.
Those
initials mean only one thing, SKY-Y?
Did
someone say GASME-GAMES??????????Hey it was ON PEARL
HARBOR DAY, that
She
“SK” said to me, back on 7
December, of 1996, just shy of 5 AM, while I was dead asleep
and out of this world, where my body was laying in my bed, and I was
on her great street, in-between the great
TRINITY-HOTEL, and the
great and powerful monster dirt ball Robert
McGuire's (PITTSBURGH)
Hotel-Bar, and I quote; “Let's
play a game boy, called GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS”.
I promise any of you out there in cyber-village, that if things like
this had happened to you, you too would be blogging away, and
trying to get this message out to the Earth-Planet,
as best as a nobody ever is able to emmereffing do, yo me'
broadcaster!
Mark
Wayne Mountainpen Huntington Mohr
©
2006-2019, 'BOM' (Blogs
Of Mountainpen)
EXPECT
AN EVEN HIGHER STS RATING NEXT WEEK, ON THE 22nd
OF 10-2019.
- THE GREAT AWESOME 'TWB'; YOU GOTTA' LUVEM!
You
just go right on laughing at me. I know a magic
person from Long Beach Island,
who knows the biggest secret of all, Patty Hollister; and
told me. You know, that SHE'LL get me for
this. Well, she got
me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Poolroy-95;
and the
mayor,
but not the Mayor
of France;
and poor
old screwed up Mountainpen;
we're all just so dam endlessly CLUELESS, along with maybe the kids
of America and that lovely teen queen Kim Wild. Holy Disney Punches,
joyful musicals, and terrorist reporter DUMA ARGON SLIP UPS, as in
loose lips sinking the ships. Like super WOW and supernatural,
yessir, great Mike Sucks Hell-wrecker Spellchecker!
Without
my god damn FIREFOX-BROWSER, the blogs look all fucked up
and stupid-ugly. Oh well, I can pay the Staples Guru and eat crackers
and warm tea for two to six fucking weeks, or I can eat better, and
look fucking dumber. STUPID-UGLY, a great way to express how a non-FF
browser, seems to interact with the Blogger software. OH
SHEEEEEEEEIT!
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
©
BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
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Blogger-Dot-Com
asks the Mountainpen:
When
you open your eyes underwater, do you ever worry that you'll drown?
Mountainpen
responds:
Well,
I did drown in 1995, in South Atlantic City. Remember, I am the one
in 1984 from Highland Avenue.
GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS, CHAPTER 12
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Global Audience By Shade Ratio:
The
reason my blog won't grow, is because I have only ESS-dream-travelers
reading it and maybe a few family-enemies and a couple Fort Pierce
locals from time to time as well. Until I can afford to get the guru
to help me as told before, this will keep growing at approximately
one fortieth of one million page-views annually, (25,000). IE, I am
just pissing into the wind as well as totally wasting my time. Only
by telling a group of ever growing ''real open minded listeners'' of
topics that this blog discusses on a regular basis, can I even have a
glimmer of hope of any life changes for me; as originally promised to
me, by co-worker Christopher Bennett, and local library consumer and
country music laptop computer down-loader, Edward (Himacane) Lynch.
Oh well, I suppose to survive, I will have to half starve. This sort
of reminds me of some mother fucking television commercials, about
overly expensive medical costs and drug prescription costs; where
people my age and older, are discussing the negative ramifications of
poverty, as it relates to their personally needing to choose between
buying food, or their very necessary medications. Oh well, my
wonderful lovely politicians up there on the Washington Hill, I guess
my only apropos words here would be, SAY-LEVY, in or out of great
FRANCE!!! And yes, I'm being totally ''dead-ass-serious about keeping
my dam mind out of their sewer pipes, both when my blogs all began in
2006, as well as up here a decade later, just a week or so away from
god dam twenty-sixteen. Funny too, folks; I will be age 61,
for just over eleven of the twelve months of the year 2016,
as in the 16 and 61 inverts again, with or without great pink goddess
star-dates, baseball team victories with Harry Callas, and great
musical artists and their numbers and their birth-dates. You know
folks, and not just those up there in the © Office; if you can buy
into all of that perfect symbolic connectiveness not being some
stupid random happenstance series of events, then as I said and now
will reiterate; without seeing your brains on an operating table,
this permits me to know and realize, that you're all totally dam
lobotomized! It isn't just being 61 in 2016, but I was also 14 in 69
and 41 in 96, that's nineteen-sixty-nine, and nineteen-ninety-six,
great folks and ESS-Travelers, and whoever?
So
as for hyperspace awareness curving ratios from any given fixed point
universe, in relationship to the others surrounding them; one must
first realize that localized hyperspace can be examined as the very
first number category as per the previously explained system used by
World Labs late in the twenty-two hundreds, this being, 1-001. This
one seemingly tiny little digitation, is all that ever gets examined.
Even one percent of this extremely localized hyperspace, can seem
quite distant on its outer fringes towards that full one percent of
of the first potential one three thousandths of all of the entire
fifth dimensional multiverse system. Taking things to
0.000000000000000000000000000001232321% of that area, barely alters
the probability of more than a few millions of atoms being arranged
in slightly different order, in the full expansion universes. In
easier words and terms, the odds that maybe a couple of pieces of
dust on one piece of furniture on each country on planet Earth
somewhere, may be one inch from where they would be on that same
piece of furniture, on a neighboring parallel multiversal reality, or
NPMR. Measuring NPMR, takes somewhat of a large technology, as well
as something that would make today's best cubit computer technology
seem as antiquated by comparison, as those old bead manual adding
machines from China, that led to the very concepts and ideas of
creating better calculators and adding machines,and eventually the
most mickey mouse computers imaginable, in the basements, and secret
workshops, of Mister Jobs and Mister
Wozniak.
If
you like being brought back down to Earth for a while now, great
people; you can click onto that great COMCAST web-site. Here is one
quick tiny part of it. I love their cool site, and you will too, most
likely!
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BOY
OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY; MOM!
WHAT
NEXT, HONORABLE JUDY S???
JJJJJJJJJJJEEEEEEE
FOLKS, I JUST LOVE THE GREAT COMCAST AND XFINITY. I REMEMBER STARING
AT MY FOUR DAM WALLS WHEN I FIRST BEGAN LIVING UP ON 26TH AND AVENUE
E, IN THE END OF TH ESPRING TIME IN THE YEAR 2010, LIVING IN APRIL
LEE'S PLACE, AND THAT WILD WEIRD STEP-DAD OF HERS, AND THAT BEYOND
WEIRD NUTCASE, WENDY. NOW THOSE WERE SOME TIMES. NO TV, NO RADIO, NO
NOTHING, JUST FOUR WALLS, A FURNACE HOT HOME, AND A HORRIBLE JOB AT
HARVEST OUTREACH, WHERE I WAS VICIMIZED SEXUALLY, AS IF I WAS BAQCK
LIVING WITH TOM FUCKING REALE AGAIN IN LATE JUNE AND INTO JULY, BACK
IN 1970. IT IS ALL ACCESSABLE ON MY BLOGS, BUT YOU NEED TO ARCHIVE
THE OLDER ONES AS SHOWN BELOW, AS AFTER LATE IN 2011, THEY HACKED ME
OUT, AND I HAD TO BEGIN THIS FINAL NEW SIXTH BLOG.
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Hello,
alive and dreaming here, I am Mark Wayne Mohr. But I truly am
ZERANNISS ARTHUR YANCY JONES, from Dogtown, and then Sahasra Dal
Kanwal; thanks to my awesome great teen-queen, SSJK.
Most
readers will probably remember the way that the opening
paragraph paste-in went, on the previous book of Milituforce blog
audience folks, along with those two persons
responsible directly, for this blog being created in the first
place, as well as continuing past its opening year of 2006,
to now.
Was
the Dave Roth just Dave Roth from here in this universe,
or
did his advanced doppelganger dream-control him, and bring him to
me at the great powerful Caldor Department Store security job in
early November of 1985?
Julia
White
has
told me many times that this is true,
only you don't know a dam thing yet, great audience. Dave and I
had parted ways a while, after a fight we'd had, while I was
still renting the home in Gibbsboro owned by Patricia Meeker, the
mother of a New Jersey State Police Officer. It was a long
parting, almost two years if my memory is accurate at all. Maybe
only 18 months, but it was not quite a ways after I had moved
into the Highview Apartments of Williamstown, New Jersey from
that rented home that Misses Meeker was going to sell and I could
not buy it at the time, so my mom and I left and moved into the
Highview place, and this was our second stay at this place. I had
started my book, The Permission Barrier, while still at the
Meeker home, and completed it at the Highview Apartments, in
1994. I sent it down to the Copyright Office on Halloween Day of
1994, as some of you already know all about this entire mess. In
my book, a character from my DREAMS, JULIA WHITE, was put into
the book. Anyone of the great and powerful examiners in
Washington, DC, knows it all by now, Mister Billy Islander Joel.
But Dave was still not back in my life until early in 1995.
Shortly after we were friends again, he had a wild DREAM, and
guess wh came into his dreams extremely vividly, but this giant
lovely dark haired beauty goddess, going by the name Jewel? I
know that she spells her name Jewelly, and her name in the book
TPB that I wrote, was altered to Julie White, but really it is
Mariena Carlittia Jewelly White Krassle. Her City-Name in the
HOLY CITY or capitol city of Sahasra Dal Kanwal, is
JEWELLY-Natalazatahh, and various astral-plank translations to
waking English Language world suffix-names that follow any name
of JEWELLY, exist. Actually Julia White told me, millions of
years ago, that there are more
than four hundred suffix names
to the city-name of JEWELLY. This name is registered in the great
Palace
Hall on Kanwal Avenue,
and what is known in waking world physical plane human bibles, as
names written in the lambs book of life, is indeed one and the
same with this CITY-NAME registry in the great awesome
KANWAL-PALACE. Now in this book, I will bring some of these
topics along quite a bit further, so you can all be the judge of
the Copper-Kessle fudge so to speak, or maybe better and plainer
said, so you can be my judge, but more adequately and honestly,
for me and my favor, for a dam change; kind people.
In
this book, before and if it closes out ever; my current audience
of just whoever you all are and have been, will be added to a new
one. This will happen as soon as I can afford to pay the necessary
people to assist me with a managed and hosted website, that I will
call Morianity-Foundation-2, or if
the old one is still available for me to take it back over, then I
will, so there won't be a number two at the end. I will pay by
allowing the host to place ads just as they did on my other
non-public site as shown above in red colored font, and most
likely, still pay a nominal fee on top of that, probably if
hosted, more than the just under $4.00 per month that it cost me
before, but even if tripled, along with all the ads they wish to
place on it, I can afford up to this amount, and by the gods, I
will have this site, with all my links to those public ones such
as BLOGGER and WORDPRESS, as long as they allow my blogs, which I
do not think will be all that much longer, in this rapidly
altering new age, where people like me, not loved by these owners
of our American society because we don't just accept without
griping and belly-aching, all the shit that they feel is just fine
to do to us day and night, you know; remove our dam ass freedoms,
steal our fucking music by changing one note, paying off officials
everywhere from the Senate and the House, to the dam Copyright
Office, and on and On you all know that I can keep spouting off
lists. As I said, THIS is exactly why, I feel that my fucking
public blogging days are very numbered now, as both ISIS grows,
and folks like me are perceived as enemies of the land; and our
rights rapidly fuckiGN removed without trials or anything. Funny
too, my dad predicted as if he already knew and saw all of this go
down; and way mother fuckign back in early 1974, nearly forty-two
fuckign years ago. He as many of you know, was a
BATTLESHIP-ELDRIDGE EXPERIMENT SURVIVOER, and the legends tell us
that this ship went out of normal space and out of normal time, so
please don't accept this blog's word for any of this, before you
form your own conclusions and opinions regarding it all. First,
GOOGLE IT ALL UP for
yourselves, under PHILADELPHIA
EXPERIMENT, and other similar such items, as you search
out the topic for yourselves. One thing those who have power over
us know, at least until eventual fucking martial law will come and
destroy America for all of us, and that is , even my nasty
sounding threats against my enemies, never ever will be carried
out in ILLEGAL WAYS. They may however wish that those other ways
were what I chose, after I do exact my revenge soon, as my way
leaves zero traces in any legal judicial court system for any
possible prosecution, as electronic metaphysics is legal, and even
when freedom of speech is removed sooner or later, I can make
adjustments so that none of my words could possibly imply any form
of threats that could lead to my punishment. Now with full on
martial law, they can just come and take you and kill you and
torture you, but long before then, I promise you all one mother
fuckiGN thing. One way or the other, I'LL BE OFF THIS GOD DAM
FUCKING PLANET!
My
mother fuckiGN dirt bag enemies think that I need thousands of
dollars for expensive electronic equipment. As that great
wonderful hair shampoo commercial would say, or that gorgeous babe
in it, back in 1980,
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
“W-R-O-N-G”!!!!!
Cheapo
junk works just as well, as hyperspace and messing with it, isn't
one bit prejudiced against lousy sound quality and other
low-budget related absurdities. Sorry to burst your safe-bubble,
you bastard fuckiGN rotten super wealthies out there. And I do
promise you, as I have all along, “Before you get to me, I'll
get to you”!
GUESSING
THE NAMES OR THE (IDENTITIES) OF THE VISITING TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON
(GUESTS) may sound a bit
'weedikalass', Mister Elmer Fwudd, BUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT,
I promise you this, WOMO, MO, and all others
concerned. So many things would sound absolutely mother
fuckiGN absurd, impossible, and totally ridiculous, just 100, 200,
300 years ago, and believe me people; those amounts of time are an
eyelash fucking blink, to the great mountains, and the stars of
the sky, and yes; if you were to just go back into time, one or
two or three lousy little centuries; and begin speaking to those
folks around you, about all of the incredible things that exist in
our time, and in our society; from jet airplanes, to moon
landings, to global communications and satellites, and internet
and social media, and electricity, and electric lights, and
machines, and recording live sounds and images and retrieving them
at will; and I could go on for an hour and
won't, but if you did that;
they would fuckiGN hang you as a dam
witch, and no
one would believe a dam fuckiGN word that you said!!!
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GUESS
THE NAME OF THE GUESTS
THIS
WAS A VERY POWERFUL GASME-GAME OF SSJKK, TO SAY THE VERY LEAST.
Round
and round we can go forever on many things, and I cannot make anyone
see powerful truths no matter what, and I know this only too damn
well, Senator Sanders, old pal. WOW do I want to win the 2020
election and remove that horrible monster-criminal on Pennsylvania
Avenue. Still, I know that I know, or what I do at least. Just as in
the Pearl Harbor Day wild trip to be with the Almighty
PINK GODDESS, let's face some real powerful facts about the
girl standing on a hotel balcony, the lovely Mary Tyler Moore, in
that lovely green dress. In the MTM show that began in the fall
season for the great MARLTON PIKE 70
YEAR of all great non CHERRY HILL'S of the world; we have the
writer character whose show name was not happy Christmas, and
I suppose went on to LOVE boats
as much as I do. Then we have the original Mizz
Laura Petry in the DVD SHOW, that does not stand for modern
day DVD's either. In this show we had Mel
Cooley the
Assistant to the boss Allen Brady, whose show name was Mel
COOLEY as in COOLEY H. H. HALL. The
Bible gives absolute information on just how we can GET THESE
POWERFUL TRUTH-MESSAGES IN DREAMS, and I for one do not need to read
this in a damn Bible. I KNOW THAT I
KNOW!
I
went to visit PINK GODDESS--SSJKK in my
spirit earlier this morning around just after nine. I tranced out and
found myself willing myself forward out in space, through the stars.
Eventually they began to thin out until their were only cluster
circles far away (other galaxies), and suddenly, there she was, PINK
GODDESS, just like out of Star Trek on that episode called,
“Where No Man Has Gone Before”. I melted into her and she loved
me beyond anything, and I cried like a baby for a trillion years or
so and told her she is so beyond awesome.
Now
as with all tales written by Mark Wayne Mountainpen Mohr, they do not
end well, and Satan grew jealous of my bliss with my teen-queen and
somehow managed to grab my spirit and threw me into a parallel
universe (a dream) where I was living back up in Jersey, in a mobile
home somewhere in the Atco area, and was still working for the RPL
Sound Recording Studio job after all this time since the end of July
in 1979. I was going to retire on December 4, 2019 with a nice
pension, but for reasons I don't recall fully but can speculate based
on a few things I observed there, was broke and had a very old messed
up clunker car. Recently I had it completely overhauled and things
were fine. I went to start it up to drive to work on a shift I never
worked in this universe when there, six at night through half past
three in the morning. This is when all hell broke loose. I think that
I was living with some really strange people in this double wide
trailer, and we all were trying to prove that paranormal and esoteric
phenomena was occurring around us, and were documenting things with
movie cameras and all sorts of weird ghost-buster type of apparatus.
Suddenly
as I was starting up my car, I thought the horn had come on and was
broken, only it was another sound entirely, and when I opened the
hood up, cars in that parallel universe all operated in a totally
different way, and the main system that made them work, was all
screwed up. I grabbed some tools from the trunk of the vehicle and
was able to take a piece from the front of this large pump type of
gismo and tighten a few things up, and it seemed repaired. But when I
started to slowly drive off of my property towards the road, I
realized I was living on Norris Avenue, and what had been the houses
along the one side of it, was a trailer park in that world over
there, and it was legal to live in them in Atco over there as long as
they were hard down on the ground without wheels. I don't know about
the laws of Camden county in this universe here, but over there, it
was legal, and come to think of it, Jenny's park was in the next
county over to the east in this universe in waking world reality, and
that was legal.
So
I start driving down Norris towards the White Horse Piker, and
suddenly I realize that I was not able to effect the proper repairs,
as the steering was not working. No matter how I tried to steer the
car, it was trying to go every possible way other than the way it
needed to. As I tried to pull over however, someone on the pike
driving eastbound, intentionally came over, crossing illegally into
westbound lanes of the pike, and struck my car and damaged it
severely and then proceeded to speed away. I was not injured, but got
out of the vehicle and realized that it had been knocked right into
oncoming traffic. Cars began to hit it one after another, and seemed
to all be intentionally in on this NASCAR-gone-wrong horrendous
multiple car wreck. I was thinking to myself, “Now all I need is
for Tony Stuart to come along and kick my ass”. I was amazed it did
not happen.
After
the car was knocked around and banged up to shit, it was at least
knocked back onto the road where it rolled mysteriously onto the lot
from which it had been parked before I started it up. My roommates
had come out with some tools and test equipment, and I thought that
they were going to run over to assist me and see if they could
ascertain why it was driving all crazy, but they were running up
towards the pike and I looked over to see where they were heading,
and up above us was this huge air ship shinning all sorts of colored
lights down, and not making a sound. Eventually, on of them opened up
my hood and was testing something while this weird UFO was spinning
around directly over us and in front of us maybe 70 feet away.
Suddenly it shone a green pulsing light down onto the grassy area in
front of us, and it burned a message onto the grass. As people drove
by, they all got out. I could not see the message from the angle
where I was standing, but it seemed to say something utterly
shocking, as when people came over to read what it said, they seemed
more scared out of their skulls by the message than of the dam ship
above us that burned it into the grass.
Then
the one roommate connected his ghost-busting machine to some part
inside the car engine and the part began to light up like a round
white disc, and started to make a sound sort of similar to a choir
singing the 'note middle A'. The guy said that he was expecting that.
Things were beyond crazy and horrible, and then along came Mikey's
brother Joe from Florida, and in that universe, I knew both Mikey and
Joe only from Jersey. I had thought that Mikey had recently died and
remember watching my doppelganger amazingly telling him this, and
then hearing him say back, “Don't believe all you see”. Suddenly
we were driving in his car to a local gas station a block away, and
it was the Power Test station down the block at the traffic light on
the pike that separated the towns of Atco and Chisilhurst. Some weird
music was playing from the Family Stations Incorporated radio station
WKDN, and they were saying how the President had just died, of the
radio network, not the nation. I remember thinking how this was not
very funny. Then the man who owned the station came over to me and I
noticed that Mike had vanished. The man knew Mike and told me he was
alive and well, but that friends of his were telling him just the
other day that he had passed. One thing led to another, and I began
to realize that people were vanishing all over the place, and some
were returning while others were not. I remember thinking if this
could be the beginning of the Christian rapture stuff. Then I drove
the car back to where mine was being worked on, and I remember
getting on a phone that was in my pocket and calling the RPL studio
to let them know I could not make it in due to car trouble. Then I
realized I was in this parallel universe and began to become aware of
the situation, taking me from a TYPE-1-Exploratron, to a
TYPE-2-Exploratron. Awareness is type-2-dreaming, and becoming able
to control ones double (doppelganger) is TYPE-3. The crazy air ship
was still up in the night sky, and lots of bright search lights were
all around, and a lot of local government emergency vehicles and ther
police had all began to gather around as well by this point in time.
Then walking a large white dog, and wearing bright golden framed
shades despite it being night, came Nick Cannon, walking down the
road, and then I realized through my dreaming-double and having his
knowledge and awareness now fully and instantaneously to his as
things happened around us, that this Nick was just a man who lived on
Norris Avenue, at the far end of the park in a house. Then I realized
that he was the owner of the trailer park, and he was very mean and I
had to call him Mister Cannon. He never married Mariah Carey in that
universe. As I began to mentally focus in on things, I realized there
was no Mariah Carey in that universe. However, Patty and Pee were
living in the park along with myself, and had a trailer in the middle
of the park area somewhere. Suddenly I saw Nick cross the street and
approach me abnd tell me my rent is overdue. I told him he would have
it tomorrow. He then grabbed my arm while his large dog began to
growl and bark at me. He yanked me over and away with him, and as I
walked with him a short ways, he smirked and then he laughed, and
then the laughter grew louder and louder, until I kept saying to him,
“Why are you laughing Mister Cannon”? He finally stopped quite
abruptly and I was following him into his house-office, and noticed
the sign above that read Atco-Cannon-Park. I sat down and he reached
into a mini-fridge and grabbed a dog and a cold glass of foamy beer,
and sat down at his desk. My chair was along the side of it. He said
to me, I am the owner of that airship that just screwed up your car.
He opened a desk drawer and took out some weird proof of his
ownership and flung it over at me, striking my wrist and I remember
the paper cutting the skin a little, and a drop of blood coming out
of the area. He then said, “I won't allow you to go to the pink
lights outside, is that clear Mountainpen”? I remember staring at
him, and then instantly using all of my will, I turned myself into a
TYPE-3-EXPLORATRON. I now had full control over my doppelganger
(dreaming-double), and I belted out, “I love her, she is Almighty
Goddess-SSJKK, and you have no right to tell me what to do”!!! Then
he got up from his chair, spit out a bite that he was chewing of his
dog, onto a large bright red ash tray that had those real
old-days-style thick edges, and stunk to high hell the way the old
ones did and when folks never seemed to ever clean them, and I
remember recalling the stench very clearly, and thinking how
disgusting the prick was for puking that out of his face when he
could have just swallowed it for crying out loud! He yelled so loud
that my ears rang, and I remember him saying quite clearly to me, “I
am running a very carefully controlled experiment, and I'm not going
to let you screw it up any more with time manipulations, and your dam
travels out to the edge of the Milky Way”!
A
lot of shit is not safe to blog after that point. He went onto tell
me how life is a huge game and that I am someone who has discovered
too much about very secret things. When I asked him why I aware of my
universe back where a physical body is asleep in, he said to me, “You
know the answer to that, TYPE-3-Exploratron. Go back now and leave my
world”!!!!! Instantly, I was here, and I awoke with a bang and it
was about twenty past eleven, just past Miss Witch Bitch
Thistlethorns time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
END
TRANSMISSION.
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