Positive I.D. 2

Not sure why they do this, but often these people doing this to me make comments indicating that I'm being initiated into some group.  This guy did that tonight in addition to referring to me as a dog.  It's been hinted that I'm in some kind of training.  I never agreed to any such thing and more importantly, I would never be associated with this douche-bag or any of the other douchebags who've been doing this shit to me.  It's really inhuman.  Good-time Charlie, the executive chef, said he was impressed.  They're always doing that shit.  Seriously, dude is not the type of guy I would be associated with and I would never take part in what you do because it is bush-league.  I'm looking forward to saying, "Thanks, but no thanks."

...and Mr. Gauthreaux

Sheesh.  I hear from Denny about all his troubles with the mother of his daughter and then I get a "separate" call from Scott because he just happened to Google me?  He can "still shoot the lights out."  That is so interesting.   Scott was buds with the baseball player who made a comment to me about "the list."  At the same time, Jim Yuhasz calls.   Says dad had no will.   I could have sworn he did.  Oh, well.

Positive I.D. Video Re-Cap

Does opening this blog make your computer freeze?  It does mine.  It's because of the high number of embedded videos in this post.

As I mentioned in a recent post, a major result of the abuse I've been subject to is an inducement of paranoia.  The ambiguity of what they do makes it that way.  It's designed to make you afraid to socialize with anyone.  After reviewing the collection of videos I captured, it is evident that, because of that paranoia, a certain portion of the clips are not what I first thought.  However, that portion isn't nearly as large as I first estimated.  At least 80% of the clips I captured include individuals who were doing exactly what I thought they were doing.  I'm going to add to this list as over time.  I'm going to omit a few clips that don't clearly I.D. the subject.  I've also omitted people who just made comments about how long they've lived in SF.  Not all of the people doing this to me are doing it for the same reason, but I never know for sure who's who, but I don't see a reason to post the ones who simply bragged about how long they've lived in SF.  I understand their point.  As I mentioned in a recent post, these videos don't overtly indicate anything you'll notice, but they include individuals who doing are exactly what I thought they are doing.  Also, upon looking back, I'm surprised at how many I have.  It's a lot more than I thought.

Key point:
I just tallied these videos and those in Key Video Re-Cap.  I'm not great at math, but I count 53.  The grand total of videos I've shot is far less than 100, clearly illustrating that I'm not just paranoid and I don't suspect this of every single person I encounter.  If that were the case, I would have shot thousands of video clips--not dozens.


I'm just going to add to this post at the top: 





Dianna Kim?  Doubt it.  This woman is definitely stalking me:

On the other hand, I am sure about the girl sitting next to Alan Passalaqua in the video below.  No reason for her to be in touristy Starbucks when she usually hangs out at Another Cafe.  She is the one and only person I've seen at mom-n-pop SF coffee shops and seen in a Starbucks and I suspected her before that.  Now I know I was right about that snide look her boyfriend gave me one night.  Hmmmm...double look-back into Starbuck's nasty bathroom checking for what, exactly?  Nice job trying to cover by overacting not guilty:

FBI Entrapment...No Accompanying Video

Well...I was going to do a video to go along with an upcoming post on FBI entrapment, but mysteriously as of just a few hours ago, I can neither upload video straight to my blog post nor to my Youtube page.  Actually, that's not true.  A test video of screen capture which I just tried to upload to Youtube is actually uploading.  It's sitting at about 3% complete after about 20 minutes since I started the upload.  Never happened that way before. 

No problem...I can do it with screen shots:

 

FNC Has These Names:

Laura McCormick
Len Specter
Victor Carrion
James Kielczynski

They're about to have these:

Christine Faranda
Kathleen Kashay
Beth Kujawski


On a completely unrelated note:

http://www.indiegogo.com/SportsGreatsJournalismArchive

.

Key Video Re-Cap

Hmmm...could have sworn I had an intro on the post.  Don't recall deleting it.  This is a rundown of all the video I have in which the subject's actions actually indicates something or there's some other substantial indicator that supports my claims. 


I set a very high standard for these things and at first, I didn't believe that this video shows what it shows, but I'm now convinced that there is no denying that the guy in this video has something in common with Spastic Biz Guy on the right.  He is attempting to secretly signal his partner to stop the act because he saw me shooting video.  It's pretty incredible--when you bust out the camera, people screw up.  Stay out of show biz:

Spastic Biz Guys...

"Which way?"  Love this one.  They're acting so guilty.  Action begins at 00:45 mark.

Quick!  Duck!!

Awwwwwe.  Strange...I used to see this kind of thing regularly, but it has stopped.  In fact, this may have been the last one.  How about that?

Somehow, I almost forgot about Paola who was concerned about my "finishing  the process..."  Again--what process?

Hmmm... Amazing she even noticed I was shooting video.  Must have been there for a reason...

Loud Therapy Sessions  A quick refresher:  A major part of what's gone on is a therapist with either another therapist or maybe an actual client sit very near me in public and have an obnoxiously loud therapy session.  Obviously, if one were having a session with his therapist in public, he would not want the conversation to be overheard.  It's a conversation that's protected by law.  These two actually asked to share my table, which isn't uncommon in these situations.  When they do this, they shoot me a purposeful glance with a smirk as they sit down, which these 2 did.  The audio in this clip proves my claim.  If you know my location and you follow me around to do this, you are stalking me:

"It's like a chess game."  This clip is very brief and doesn't hit as hard as the previous clips, but you can see how they're both making spastic gestures...constantly.  The fact that the gesturing is so obvious in such a short clip is telling.  The spastic gesturing is how they get your attention.  These 2 are very important because the woman said, "It's like a chess game," again, during an obnoxiously loud conversation.  This was when I was still afraid to shoot video for extended periods and I think this is one of the first I shot without looking...

Almost forgot about this one, too.  This girl was sitting with her friends way to my right at the farthest table away at Peet's.  I saw them turn around repeatedly to look directly at me as they sat discussing something.  She went to the restroom and inexplicably got confused on her way out.  When I got their license plate number, they acted very worried.  It was after this video that I "coincidentally" ran into some fellas from Zynga who asked me to "stop doing what you're doing."  They did what all my stalkers do and tried to keep me real confused, while all the while I was thinking, "Well, I'm just trying to extract myself from this fucked up little game you and your asshole friends are playing with me." (By the way: http://www.indiegogo.com/SportsGreatsJournalismArchive):

Again, this one doesn't say a whole lot, but why did she move her jacket?  They weren't getting up to leave at that point.  It's obvious they were in mid conversation.  She saw me preparing to shot video and picked up the jacket to block her face.  The bitch on the left made a comment insinuating I'm a "puppet."

 This guy stopped fucking with me after I posted about Al Franken and stalking apps.

This video is from earlier the same day at the same spot as "Spastic Biz Guys."  Again, the intention is just to make you nervous and often the conversations are just confusing, but always loud and spastic.  This and Loud Therapy Session above are the best audio recordings I've got.  One of the things these dumb-asses do is to use the word, "dude" a lot because they think it appeals to me or something, which you can hear this guy do at the 1:20 mark.  Even before that, he talks like a Valley girl, saying "Yeah, and it's like...", etc.  Obviously, those language choices stand out in the conversation and are incongruous with their appearance.  Try and follow the conversation.  It's complete nonsense (Which reminds me of Michelle Marlow.)...

I don't need you to "throw me a bone."

Unfortunately, there's always a lot of background and ambient noise when I'm getting these.    After I'd stopped shooting this video, I told them I wasn't listening and he repeated it to her with an exasperating tone of voice, "He's not listening."  She confirmed and they got up and left.  A little later, Spastic Biz Guys showed up.


Along with Tell-me-about-your-diet Don, this guy used to like tormenting me in the locker room at 24-Hour Fitness on Post at Van Ness.  I hadn't seen him in a while but them saw him twice in the past week and both times he tried to avoid me.  "Great!," I thought.  Well, today it occurred to me that I should get video of him.  He saw me as he was coming down the stairs.  I'd say he's acting slightly odd here:

 

  
So, as I said, I don't  know who's who in all this and now that there's been a major turn-around in the situation, I figure I want to find out more since no one will acknowledge me in the dumb-ass little game.  So, I followed him.  He walked down Post and turned left on Polk and stopped in front of the restaurant on that corner.  I think it's called 5-oh-1 or 5 O'Clock or something like that.  He stood  there kind of pacing back and fourth in one spot like a third-grader who just got busted as he made a couple of phone calls.  He then went back to Post Street and walked alllll the way down Post Street, doing some window-shopping on the way, including at Williams & Sonoma.  Good taste.  He turned left on Market and stopped in a cheap Chinese trinket shop and stayed in there for at least 10 minutes. I got some video as he exited and another clip right there for better I.D.  He was heading back up Market in the same direction he'd come from.  Strange. 

As you can also see in this clip, there is a 24-Hour Fitness at the corner of Sutter and Montgomery, about 1 block from the trinket shop where I got the video.  Hmmmm....  that's a lonnnnng walk to go to the gym at Van Ness every day if he actually lives way downtown and, of course, he sure doesn't look likes he dressed for work.  Strannnnge...  And, of course, the videos have time-stamps.

This woman stopped her flailing gestures when she saw me shooting video.  At about the 0:07 mark you can see her start breathing heavily because she's nervous.  You can't really tell while watching the video now, but the gesture she makes with her face at the 0:29 mark was intended for the camera.  Then they got up and left.  (She was acting nervous throughout the clip, really.):

That's about everything I've got that even remotely indicates anything in the video.  I'll do a separate post with the other folks I'm positive about but the video doesn't indicate anything.

.

I have established a dialogue with Fox News Channel...

http://www.indiegogo.com/SportsGreatsJournalismArchive

Mr. Champagne

What these people have done to me is definitely quite bizarre.  I think a part I haven't touched on much is the "dream world" aspect of it.  They extract you from society by way of a compost heap of serious allegations and character defamation and because you're starved for human interaction, it makes you very susceptible to suggestion.  While  you're in it, it's difficult to see at all, but I broke  out of it.  The dream world they had me immersed me in by way of a rain of suggestion from covert operatives is that I'm some kind of hero and there's going to be a big reward and celebration at the end, etc.  Those suggestions started way, way back in spring of 2010 with this guy after I sent an e-mail to Allan Ryan:

He was having another very loud phone conversation for me to overhear and said something like, "Oh, yeah, there's going to be champagne and everything.  Big party!"  When you're caught in the spell, you believe all that shit, but again, it doesn't work without complete isolation and forced dopamine deprivation. 

I've been wanting to do a re-cap of the best, most important video I have.  Since I'm once again on the verge of being completely destitute because I'm be blackmailed by the White House and the Democratic party as part of this little manipulation game that being played with me be, I figure now's as good of a time as any.  As I look back, I can see some video I got of subjects that were not what I  thought they were.  Indeed, a major part of what I've been through is induced paranoia.  The majority of what I got is exactly what I thought it was, though, and what I'm about to post here are all pretty much undeniable.  These aren't just videos that identify people, but rather ones that actually indicate something in the video.  I've seen that other people who take these videos get these very wide shots of people that are very far away that indicate nothing, or they just don't know how to explain what's going on in the video.  Fortunately, because of my television production experience, I know what it means to capture moving images that indicate something, which you can't really do without being close enough.  This one was one made quite a difference in my life:

It's so obvious that they're acting.  Exaggerated gestures and, of course, the "stop" gestures in the very beginning.  That's what they do--simply act spastic to make the subject constantly nervous.  Sometimes the goal is just to make you insecure.  They've been doing it to me for a long, long time.

.

And I'm Still Looking at a Big Fat Zero

Oh, well.

"Life Is Cheap"

This very strange guy just told me, "Life is cheap."...twice. And made some other strange comments about what he does and what I do or something like that.  Then he got up to leave and zipped his bag very violently apparently in an attempt to intimidate me.  Oh, wait...I remember now.  I laughed at his attempts to intimidate me and he said, "You're gonna eat that laugh."  Really?  Am I?  I'm not asking much.  In fact, in the big picture, it's nothing. 

Three o'clock.

http://www.indiegogo.com/SportsGreatsJournalismArchive

.

Um...Let's See...

How do I get this message across effectively?............

Since I have no other way to respond to these messages from your street ops, I'm compelled to do it here because I know you or someone close enough to you is reading.  Let's see:

If you obtain joy and satisfaction from bossing around "50-year-old white guys," I do not begrudge you that.  At the same time, it's not something that impresses me or appeals to me.  But it's not the content of the messages you send occasionally that makes me like you less and less.  Rather, it's the disturbing method of delivery, taking advantage of the fact that you've isolated me with defamation and misinformation with the intention of blackmailing me.  And of course, I never have any witnesses to the these disturbingly random yet clearly intentional encounters.  Like your predecessor, you apparently have a penchant for abuse of power and have done just that to put me in a position in which I'm sure most would cave and kneel down and scream, "I love big brother."  ("Big brother"--how ironic.  The situation gets more bizarre by the minute.)   The truth is that, though my overriding opinion will continue to be that you handle the job well, your insistence on continuing to communicate to me in this disturbing fashion while systematically keeping me in a desperate position really just makes me think you're nothing but another asshole politician as so many others, including a few anti-establishment-type folks, think.  I don't care how many black guys you send at me who look like they went to Georgetown.  I don't care how many Harvard drunks I run into occasionally who suggest living out of a van has been good for me.  You've really soured me on any potential relationship and to be perfectly straight-forward, I'm not interested at all, so stop wasting your time.

I will not starve again and I will never beg on the street as you tried to have your dumb-fuck drone teach me to do properly while wearing his $500-spectacles the other day.  Your drones don't impress me at all and you impress me less and less.  I am not interested in being part of your or anyone else's conspiracy, especially one who's leader/s are under the delusion that they have the right to tell me how to think and/or how to behave by basically training me like a dog through the use of very, very abusive methods.  And I haven't even touched on the violation of my privacy.  Like so many others in my life, you've turned a friend into an apathetic bystander thinking strictly about himself--for the first time.  You haven't helped me to grow and living out of the van has not been beneficial at all.  Because of this continued bizarre approach, I've come to the conclusion that I'd rather flip burgers than work for you.   You're wasting your time and you have more important things to do--as do I.  Please stop.  It is never going to happen.

.

We're Arent Going to Start This Again Are We

...with your dumb-fucks walking by my van in the wee hours of the morning and making comments to fuck with my head precisely as they walk by?  I think today makes twice in about the last week.  Message specifically to the guy this morning from around 5:45:  You're a pussy.  What's really bizarre about this is that a substantial portion of the people doing this are black.  I mean, I don't expect any gifts or anything from anybody, but to actively take part in this?  Wow.

Do me one favor... approach me openly, name yourself, your organization, and your reason.  No, that's not going to happen because anyone who would take part in such a thing must be a complete dumb-fuck pussy--including the guy making it happen.

How many times do I have to call you out?

.

"Tell Me About Your Diet"

In late 2010, while waiting for my food-stamps, I was very clearly grossly underweight.  This guy  actually rubbed it in my face directly and openly:

What is it that makes your dumb-fucks think I'm ever going to quit or stop or cooperate with whatever it is you want, of which I'm not really sure anyway?  This guy's name is Don and I'm pretty sure he said he works at the Asia Museum of SF.

..

Spastic Biz Guys

I didn't look at the video until now.  Those first 2 gestures the guy in the blue makes are meant to signal his partner that the camera is rolling and to stop the act.  He also very briefly shakes his head, "no," right after the second one and acts nervous throughout the video (the best part is that I look bored):

Let's see, what else can I tell ya?...

It's a memory game, right?  What's the most obscure little detail I could run by ya.  hmmmm...

Well...the day I dropped a hint to Wayne that my brother framed me was on or the day before or the day after either March 23 or April 21.  Noooo...of course, I'd remember that one.  Sentimental, aren't I?

Wait, wait...something very obscure that I haven't mentioned..."Stay out of the power doors".......nope...already mentioned that one....what else?.......Everyone at the dinner table theatrically eating with their mouths open?   ........nope......already told ya about that one......Marty Eggert....."Why you leavin' the state?"  Buzzzzzzz...wrong again....already went over that.  Something from Severstal...let's see....

"Stay out of the power doors" is key to everything and it's very fitting because Wayne got that message across by way of a subtle grammatical mistake.  One doesn't stay out of a door.  One stays out of the room a door leads to.  I have to give Wayne credit for that one, as much of a mistake as I suspect it's going to turn out to be.  I didn't think he had any writer in him.  Basically, if one wanted to make a euphamism for powerful corporate and/or political interests and wanted to use the word "power," preceding something, then "door" would make much more sense than "room," now wouldn't it?  If Wayne wasn't trying to send me a little message, he'd have said, "Stay out of the power room."  Taken literally, "power door" makes no sense in that usage.

I know I'm leaving out something obscure that I haven't yet mentioned............  Maybe not.  Perhaps all has been told.  Rick: "Sacrifice the one for the many."

Oh, here's a great one I believe I've left out:

One of the things my brother told me under hypnotism was to occasionally breath like an asthmatic so I would know how he felt.  I figured that out partly from memory and partly from wondering why the hell I do that occasionally.  I did it right after he snapped me out of it and my sister threw a theatrical fit of shocked disbelief.  (I come from a family of douche-bag fucking posers.  I'm not sure which is the bigger drama queen--my brother or my sister.  It's a toss-up.)  Of course, since I figured that out, I've stopped it almost completely.  I can't remember what else he said, but I'm sure it's pretty bad.  Cool, huh?  I remember something someone told me while hypnotized.  It's not supposed to work that way.  It's just amazing I can't get someone to address me openly about all this.

I got a message from Niles recently, btw--I think.  The language is suspicious, but the address looks legit.  Looking forward to finding out what's up, Himmy Who-Haws.  

 .

Hey...What's it going to take...

to get it through to you guys that I am not cut out for this stuff?  Anybody who knows me at all will tell you that.  That single successful punch was all I needed for a certain amount of satisfaction and clarity.  Whoever picked me for this is just plain wrong in his thinking.  I know, I'm tall, etc., etc.  I suspected that guy from the second I saw him, though and I could tell he wasn't really drunk.  If he really wanted something to happen, he shouldn't have started giving me tips about form.  I wasn't positive about him until that point, though it should have been obvious despite the ambiguity.  You know--I never have an outside frame of reference.  I'm a writer.  Just give me a non-fighting writing job.  The Streets Blog job sounds like a great job.  Paying blog jobs are rare.

Seriously...I never showed interest in this stuff.  I know, Iknow--like Rick said, "You don't pick them, they pick you," but still--I would think you'd want someone who's heart's in it, no?  I thought Kudary was going to cry when he found out.  "Why him?"  You should have seen his face; ask Wayne.  Paul's a big burly dude.  He's tall.  He's pretty smart.  He might not have "a mind like a steel trap" (like I do--apparently), but he's smart.  He could reach over the crowd and crush somebody's head with one hand and most importantly he's not chicken-shit--like me!  All things considered, I think he'd make a fine replacement.  I worked with him and I highly recommend him.  Good guy.  Maybe a little racist and maybe he made a comment about using a black girl for his "first," but otherwise, super guy, for sure.  Yeah--the name's Paul Kudary.  Paul...Kudary.  On top of everything else that was going on, I had to work in an 8x10 cube with that doofus all...day.  (I'm a good writer, aren't I?  Yes, yes, I know.)

"I like your style, but lift your arms up a little bit."  That's funny.

Send me a check for my trouble and leave me alone.

.

"Uh-ohhhh...Which way?"

Versatile Multi-Media; Pinpoint Communications

So...I was walking up Sutter Street toward Van Ness from Polk St.  A new building is going up on the corner  of Van Ness and  Polk.  Adjacent to the new building on Sutter is a furniture store.   These 2 pricks and a female friend, who were walking about 15 feet ahead of me, stopped in front of the furniture store window which is immediately before the temporary covering over the sidewalk.  They whipped up a bullshit conversation, and as I passed, the prick on the right made a loud comment about sleeping in a nice warm bed every night.  I kept right on walking and heard them take a few steps into the tunnel behind me and stop.  I exited the tunnel and, despite the fact that I paused for a moment or two before I decided to wait and get the video, the guys still didn't emerge until 50 seconds later.  It's not that long of a walk, but that's really inconsequential at this point.

As they emerge, the guy on the right makes an audible verbal expression of dismay at my presence, which he clearly attempts to suppress, before he stammers through trying to figure out which way these sharp, upstanding fellas were headed.  In fact, it's quite clear that he was pretty nervous.  Of course, it was a little dark when they emerged from the tunnel, so I took extra care to get their faces as best I could.  Me and my damn loser television production experience!!

 



Did I spell "versatile" right?

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"Is Someone Sitting Here?" #63

Learning and Growing

Suggestions that this whole process is meant to "help me grow" continue.  The very notion that some of the idiots involved in this, especially the dumb-fuck behind it all, are in a position to teach me anything, is just a bit silly.  You've taught me nothing.  I see the abuse and damage I've been subject to.  The group and every individual in it is a pathetic fucking joke in my book.  Here's what we've learned:  it takes many, many people working together and endless deception and deceit to fuck with John--at all.  I promise--in the end, you will  have learned from me.  I'm pursuing the same thing I was in '08.  You've taught me nothing.  Nothing.

My New Youtube Friend

Hmmmm...this Youtube user added me as a friend.  How interesting.  Remind you of anyone?...




.

Dim Mak

I'd searched for an account of this online since I posted about it, but wasn't able to find any until now...

   

       
       

            MANswers
       

   

http://www.spike.com/video-clips/fywg53/manswers-is-the-death-touch-real

And Now...

a fella from a certain Pittsburgh suburb is lookin' at me.

How fucking fascinating.

Is Anyone Sitting Here?

Another very popular method these people like to use to screw with me is to arrive at a table adjacent to mine that very obviously is not occupied and ask, "Is anyone sitting here?"  This guy and is friend just did that.   I asked them about and she said there was a glass of water on the table and tried to carry on the conversation which I cut off when she said, "I'm generally a mean person, so..."



Nice try.

.

Idiot Savant

A few have suggested and/or insinuated that I am an idiot savant, that I can't take care of myself.  A quick review for those dumb-fucks in particular:

I supported myself during the bulk of the time I spent in college.  I graduated as the youngest of  3 siblings with no 4-year-degree precedent in my immediate family.  I moved to New York awwe by mysewf with the intention of  getting into television production and did just that--in record time, all while being covertly targeted by Neo-Nazis and other far-right extemists.  My television career ended directly because of harassment by a Neo-Nazi.  After 9/11, the economy in the city went down the tubes.  I returned home in large part because my mother was terminally ill, to take the burden off of my family.   I moved to Columbus for a few years where I once again took care of myself just fine.  I then moved back to Niles, again, in part because my father was in ailing health.  This was before I knew about the Nazis and the past girlfriends all being Christian operatives and the fact that my family had framed me and tried to kill me more than once and that it was all connected.  Then I figured it all out while being stalked by Neo-Nazis, radical feminists, and federal authorities and drove all the way across the country only to get  shit on nearly constantly in San Francisco.  Oh--and I nearly forgot to mention the blog-posts and retired sheriff's deputy, Wayne Carderelli's threat to "stay out of the power doors."  That one actually came after all his veiled threats involving sharpshooters.  (Go fuck yourself, Wayne.)

The beauty of this situation for me is that I know the head douche-bag who's making all of this disturbing abuse happen doesn't have the balls to face me, name himself and his group, and take responsibility.  Never did.  Never will.  I guess that illustrates and important point about anonymity.  Any pussy--like the one who shouts things in my window during the wee hours of the morning--could take part in what's being done to me while hiding behind anonymity.  It's really sad.

(This might be my favorite post in the whole blog.)

.

No More 7:30am Messsages...

from that putz who's been doing it all week.  Positive or negative, they do not effect me.  The manipulation and tracking will end.  None, nothing, nada, zip.  It stops.  It's done.

Life Advice

I'm still not sure who exactly is behind this stupid-ass little charade, but I promise you--I do not  need your little pieces of life advice.  I see right through your game--right through it.  Stop trying with the false Twitter accounts, etc.  A piece of advice for you:

Mind your own fucking business.

MiyAko Abe ??

I recall this person specifically telling me her name is MiyOko. Why would you spell your own name wrong on your Facebook page?  ...

http://www.facebook.com/miyako.abe?sk=wallhttp://www.facebook.com/miyako.abe?sk=wall


.

Memo to the Democratic Party Operatives Who Won't Leave Me Alone

Go fuck yourself...please!  And whoever it was that walked by my van the other morning and called me a "lightweight", be assured--I positively do not give a shit what you think.  Not one bit.  It's a dumb-fuck game played by dumb-fucks--from both parties--which I never agreed to.

Education Management

"My Life's an Experiment.".... "Education  Management."..... Linkedin profile that looks like it was just made with no info or contacts.

Sula Page

Don't forget Sula.  Her Linkedin page has disappeared.

Allen Passalaqua

This guy's part of it:

http://www.flickr.com/people/angryf/

Allen likes creating visceral images:

I strive for my art to have that sensual feeling.. I want it to cause a reaction that's very visceral... I want people to feel it like the physical tug in the groin of a beautiful woman... some thing carnal.. 

That reminds me of Miyoko Abe's little film, "Trigger" that disappeared from the SF State film school website and so much of the other imagery I've "coincidentally" stumbled upon that happens to be sensual and visceral.  I see Allen at 3 different coffee shops regularly.  He likes to give me Photoshop tips.  The first time he so graciously volunteered to help me, he said, "Here look" and when he opened his Photoshop, there was a comic-book image of a woman with giant breasts barely held in a bikini top.

Here's a couple of interesting sets from Allen's Flickr page:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/angryf/sets/72057594084434822/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/angryf/sets/627248/

Allen...it's all over, buddy.   I won't ask why you were acting so nervous just now because I know exactly why.  Then again, considering you must have gotten the message from your friend, Victoria, I'm starting to think that you and your stupid-idiot friends might not know about this blog, because I mentioned a certain person following my Linkedin profile here a long time before I told Victoria about it recently.  Then again, maybe the fact that there are now 2 such people following my Linkedin profile drove the point home.  Someone's going to pay, buddy.  I promise. And I'm not that interested in art photography, so I don't need any tips from your sorry ass.

Poor Coconut

This is the one who asked "What country are you from?" last week.  That day, she also took her glasses off and actually tried to give me a kind of mean look with her eyes that I take it is supposed to keep me under the spell.  Seriously--that's exactly what she did.  I laughed.  If I see her ugly face again, I file a police report.

A perfect exposure, by the way.  I've learned that glare, to varying degrees, is distracting in a photo.  The objects in the frame that are in shadow here might seem a little dark, but it's the proper trade-off to minimize the glare from the sun blasting on her fat arm.  In hindsight, I can't believe I went around taking shots for a month or so without a U.V. filter.  Silly me.

And to be sure, last week when I didn't react to her interrogation by answering as if I was scared, instead telling her to stop harassing me, she basically ran away.  Today she ran away twice when I tried to get a better shot.  I'm a dedicated photographer.  This shot does the job, but it's rather pedestrian, wouldn't you say? 

A pink watch, yet.  Grow the fuck up.

Christa Williams

I'd been meaning to re-check the list of people following me on Linkedin for some time, but I've been having so much  fun crash-coursing myself on photography, it got pushed to the back-burner.

Christa Williams is on the list.  I believe Christa was one of many individuals I encountered in the professional networking group, Experience Unlimited--a state-sponsored group that meets at the office of the California Employment Development Department here in beautiful San Francisco--who had a perfectly stable professional career.

Again, I'm not sure how this little nugget slipped by me before.  I think it's because my encounter with Christa was long before I knew what's really going on,  when they still had me wrapped tightly in the mind-control.

I'm forced to suspect possible significance in the fact that Christa's Linkedin profile indicates that she previously worked in P.R. and marketing  for Chevron:

http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=23575090&authType=name&authToken=Pn0m&goback=.gmp_1822758.flr_4_*2&trk=anet_folwr_profile

Did I point these out yet? ...

http://communicationbysymbol.blogspot.com/2008/05/smash.html

http://communicationbysymbol.blogspot.com/2008/07/our-quiet-birthday.html

"What Country Are You From?"

I mentioned that one of these operatives approached me Saturday with no introduction and simply asked, out of the blue, "What country are you from?"  See that head at the bottom of this shot with the rat's-nest hair and the pink shirt and pink watch?  That's her.  She's quite short.

Silence

I will be silent when the following condition exists:

I am living a normal, healthy, productive life free of stalking and harassment and interrogation by covert operatives.  A great example from yesterday:  a woman approached me and asked, without any greeting, "What country are you from?"  Then another walked up and asked me why I was taking a picture; "What's interesting about that?," she said.  I'm way past the probing-questions aspect of the mind-control.  She then said, "I'm not harassing you."  Of course, I'd never suggested that she was, so...

Once I've attended a series of events without these things happening and I am free to socialize normally at such events; once I have friends and confidants I can trust and it is obvious that my name has been cleared; again, once I am living a normal, fulfilling, and very comfortable life with a higher level of financial security than most, completely free of stalking, harassment, manipulation, and veiled death threats, I will be silent.

Until then, I will continue to leave voice mails with, tweet to, and leave open comments on blog-posts of major news outlets, since it's clear my e-mails haven't reached their intended destinations.  When all that's in place, I'll be nice and quiet.  Ok?

You're looking at the only photo I've ever re-cropped.

The Big Waste

It's a professional photograph, motherfuckerrrrrrrs...

Don't Forget the Secret Service

I have to conclude that tall, strikingly beautiful models who attend rock concerts all by themselves and stand right next to me or walk into manicure salons immediately after I do and sit next to me are either CIA or, a group I've neglected thus far--the Secret Service.  If these things would stop, I would stop and let it all go, but it happened last night twice and of course some brainless blond big-tit bimbo joined me for a manicure earlier in the day and made some comment about a "big celebration" I was supposed to believe.  That's part of the dream-world they immerse you in which is difficult to see when you have nothing to do and no human interaction.  I've solved the nothing-to-do part completely and the other, partially, enough so that none of it effects me any more.   The goal is to tease me, spoil everything I do, and constantly fuck with my head.  I apologize for not giving proper due to the Secret Service who also has played a major role in this gross violation of my life.  In fact, many have hinted that I'm being trained for "that job," which, I repeat once again, I am not interested in and, like any other government job or position, whether hired, elected, or appointed, I will never work willingly and consciously.

For sure, absolutely--fuck the Secret Service, too, along with every single other individual and entity who has taken part in my persecution.

Beth Was Right...

The internet is a powerful tool.

A Big Celebration, Huh?

I heard that one before--a long time ago.  I actually laughed when she walked in the door.  It was beautiful.  Black, white--it doesn't matter what color the blonde-haired bimbos you send to sit next to me while I'm getting a manicure are.  The effect no longer exists.  Really--I would think recent similar results would indicate that pretty clearly.  

Bach and Mind-reading

E-Waste International

Somebody tell this chick she's swingin' in the wrong league:

http://www.ewasteinternational.com/#!about

I thought we went over this.

Marie-Claire Jenkins

The names sounds like a joke, so I won't waist a lot of time.  Check  out the bio:

http://www.i-thought.org/about/

Black and white jacket, too.  Scary. 

(Aggressiveness is a positive trait.  I will remain aggressive at my personal, sole discretion.)

Family Day at Red's Java

I'm a little concerned about this fella:

 Also, I'm getting really, really good at shooting without looking:



That's actually acceptable composition as shot from below my chest.  She knew to look at the camera and everything.  It's tough to tell exactly, though--she might be looking at my face.  Poor girl was hangin' out all by herself.  Bummer.  By the way, anybody up for a couple rounds of "Guess the Agency?"








Part of the hell I've been through is being forced to guess who's who, which I don't really spend a whole lot of thought on any more.  But many of these folks make comments insinuating that I have a job, which I don't, or that I want to retire, etc.  I've never met any of them.  I have no clear recollection of being hired for whatever job it is they're referring to.  Some times they make comments like, "You're goooo-oood." which I've heard at least twice over the past few days, once from the woman in the above video.  No--that's not right.  She said very loudly to the guy with her after he said he's hungry, "Oh, you're hungryyyy." in a kind of mocking, patronizing tone.  It's also  been hinted to me many times that the goal of all this manipulation is to make me figuratively hungry.  Sigh...Whatever makes ya feel better.  They act like we're buddies or  something, but I've never met or even seen any of them before.   I've kinda got it all sorted out.  The guys that had been harassing the shit out of me, which has, for the most part, stopped are F.B.I.  The ones who make these implications that I have a job are C.I.A.  I have a job?  Where are my fucking medical benefits, then?  I'm not interested in any job the goal of which is to completely destroy my mind and personal autonomy.  That simply will not happen.  I also know that the folks in the cafe where part of it.  Stop bothering me.  I officially resign.  I'll go where I want, when I want.  Of course, I do have a court date coming up.

Amazon "Photos" Books Search

I just searched "Photos" on Amazon for books.  Here are results from the first two pages:

 

You know, I don't want to waste the time on it, but if I have to write a post about my e-mail alert results for privacy and surveillance that are mostly from foreign countries, I'll do it on C.B.S.

Another "Fuck You"

One of the more disturbing aspects of the mind-control is that the constant rain of insults and death threats makes it so that, when you're wrapped tight in it, you're afraid to defend yourself to these people.  I think it has to do with the dopamine deprivation and destruction of self-esteem.  They make you feel worthless and trick you into thinking your actually guilty.   There were points at which I was aware of this and still couldn't make myself respond defensively, as any normal human being would.  Fortunately, things have changed.

There have been a few occasions in which I would pass someone on the street and they would say "Fuck you." or something like that just as they passed me.  Again, people I'd never seen before, but who apparently know who I am--again, very disturbing.  Just now, as I was blowing down Sutter, smiling as I passed dozens of people, a complete stranger passed me and said, "Fuck you." in a very low voice.  Things have been going so well, I turned around and addressed him about it.  The little dip of his head you see at the beginning of this video was his dejected reaction to my confronting him and putting him on video:



Here's his plate:

Photographer Likes Bland Subject Matter

...and poor lighting.



Ok...now we're cookin'.  It's all happening so fast.  Last night I got woken  up 2 or 3 times by someone saying something outside the van.  I'd been sleeping well each time, so I didn't catch what they said.

Anyhoo (as Candy used to say)...I mentioned something before about people wearing black and white who are part of this whole thing.  I've seen mention of it else where on the web.  Very often it's exactly what this apparently novice photographer is wearing--black with 3 white  stripes.  Hmmmm...referees wear black and white...Charlie Crites made a comment about "only the umpires knowing all the rules"... a fella who liked to "suggest" things to me like "moving to L.A." in the library when I was still wrapped tight in the mind-control wore the same jacket.   

I'll break here to make an important point which I believe I've so far neglected.  My research indicates that part of this "game" is to make the person be constantly on the move from city to city or state to state.  Someone whispered to me the other day that it's "worldwide."  My brother bought me an odd gift for what was probably the last Christmas we spent together.  It was a little Coca-Cola portable refrigerator a lot like the one shown here.  This would have been 2005 or 2006, so it was a different design.  It had a retro look to it and it actually had a big Coke logo on it.  It's maybe 2 feet high and you can plug it into the cigarette lighter in your car.  When I opened it, I thought it was an odd gift, but again, had no idea what was going on at the time and, like so many others, blew off his strange comment:  "You're gonna need it."

About 20 minutes ago I walked up to my van.  On the baseball field there was what looked like a small softball team practicing.  It was one team and there was no one playing the field, so it wasn't a scrimmage.  They appeared to be doing drills between 3rd base and home-plate.  None of them were wearing uniforms--all just mismatched sweat pants and t-shirts and sweaters.  Despite terribly bland subject-matter that I could never imagine would attract a serious photographer, topped off by terrible lighting as is evident in the video, outside the fence about 4 or 5 vehicles ahead of my van was the individual shown above shooting the photographically worthless scene with a telephoto lens.  Part of what I've been through makes it so you can recognize when someone is acting.  She was kind of moving her camera back and fourth from left to right with a level of urgency that simply did not correspond with the scene on the field.  Also, if she was just doing a photography exercise, why not go down on the field and ask if she could take a few shots?  I've done it at a coffee shop and I couldn't imagine a female sports team in San Francisco turning down such a harmless, simple request by an aspiring female photog.  She was just practicing telephoto shooting through a fence?  So, I did what I needed to do and walked back toward Van Ness.  I made it all the way to the corner before I drifted to my right, crossed in front of a tall utility pole toward the fence and turned around quickly.  The young photographer above had her camera trained directly on me before she quickly changed direction, pointing it up at the park on the other side of the street to her left.  I felt compelled to head back and get a little video.

By the way, the shot she would have been going for would have been a relatively far one, so I'd say she must have had a 300m lens at least.

;-))

I should add that their goal was probably to bait me into talking to her.  Wayyyyy past that one, kids.
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Photojournalism and Kamasutra

Here's a great one.

I've said before that part of what these worthless, demented pricks are doing to me is to isolate me from authentic human interaction and tease me and taunt me with images and suggestions of sex.  Fortunately, I've had something to immerse myself in to distract me from everything, have lots of fun, re-build my confidence and self-esteem, and provide many opportunities for normal human interaction, all while using something that my teasers had been using to bait me.  It effectively sticks it up their ass so many ways, I can't keep track.  My photos have been published.  (http://www.truth-out.org/occupy-oakland/1328726021)   One of my photos, which has received votes from experienced, professional photographers in a photo contest on Flickr was tweeted in New York with a compliment.  So much for being a "tucked away invisible zombie," huh?

Anyhoo... I've been researching photojournalism books.  A pro on Linkedin recommended Harold Evans' Pictures on a Page as the definitive source on photojournalism composition.  I looked it up on Amazon.  Check out the next result in the list:

I repeat:  Your game is a joke and so are you.


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"Oh, We Don't Talk to Hiii-iiim."

Another suggestion that's been thrown at me throughout this horrific, illegal persecution I've been subject to is that of a "transformation" coinciding with the suggestion that what's been done, including alternating insinuations that I'm a dog or a child, has been good for me--a notion that is completely bogus.

I went and got a few shots at an Occupy event yesterday.  To my pleasant surprise, I got introduced to a writer with a major independent news outlet in the area who was real nice to me.  Then another photographer who takes great shots of Occupy said hi and we actually talked about photography for a few minutes and she was super authentically nice.  Towards the end of our conversation, the gentleman pictured above walked over as if he was in a hurry and said, "Ohh, we don't talk to hiii-iiim."  It was cool because the person I'd been chatting with kind of looked looked him off and I ended up talking to her briefly again later.  In the interim, I drifted near this fella and he something very loudly about "living on the street causing a transformation."

News Flash to the idiot pictured above and all his punk friends:  There has been no transformation.  If there had been, I'd be working for the F.B.I. right now making a 6-figure salary starting with a number not far from being a two, as was offered in the summer of 2010.  I've said before, dumb-asses, that federal authorities have been trying to blackmail me.  It is only because there has been no "transformation" whatsoever that I am still living out of a van and pursuing a career in journalism.  It's not because I'm angry at anyone or that I must get my way, as has also been insinuated.  It's because my skills, experience, and education all point to news media.  I have a B.A. in Communications.  I have worked in television news in New York.  I can take a decent photograph.  I can write non-fiction with anyone.  All of these things were true before your little "transformation" program started.  If you've transformed anything, you've damaged my writing ability very slightly, but I promise--it will recover completely.

Finally, I've filed 2 police reports and recently followed up on one of them.  They read this blog and they're looking at your picture right now.  I'll advise ya one last time:  stop...fucking...with me.

"That's it Vinnie... fuck it up! Fuck it up, Vinnie!

Tear one up and move on to the next!"

--Christine Faranda

Welcome Wagon

I'm going to keep this brief.  I was going to write a big long subtly cutting message, but why?  I  have more important things to do.  A fella who "knew who I was" and claimed to have been helping me previously and part of some SF homeless advocacy group approached me as I was about to start taking some shots of City Hall and I believe he said "Welcome to SF."  Awwwwe.  That is really, really sweet.

Briefly:  If you're someone who assumed I was guilty until very recently, though I've never been arrested let alone tried--which I must assume is true of this guy because of the timing of the welcome speech, ie., its coinciding with the confirmation that the woman who accused me is a complete whack-job with serious, serious issues--you are my enemy.  If you want to make it all up to me, here's how to do it.  Leave me alone.  Let me do a few cool things in town while I'm still here in fucking peace.  I moved to NY with $700 awe by mysewf and didn't do bad at all.  I came to SF while being harassed and stalked by everybody and their brother.  I've survived an immediate family of fanatics who'd been trying to get rid of me for quite some time.  To top it all off, my biological mother is a whacko, too.  I'll take care of everybody one by one.  The ball is rollin' against Christine.  At the very least, I imagine it won't  be long until she's disbarred.  I've been living just fine out of a van for 2 years now.  If I need homeless advocacy, I will pursue it on my own accord like the mature adult I've been for quite a few years now.  There are people who need it more than I do.  Wanna make it up to me?  Let me be.  I'll fix things my way.

  

(No Tripod)

Denial of Service Attack

Well, now...upon  further review.  I did little research on I.P. Address abuse and the most commonly mentioned action someone can take against another person by getting their I.P. Address is a "D.O.S." or "Denial of Service Attack."  I'm thinkin' one could do a lot more than that with it.

Hmph....

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denial-of-service_attack

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Duplicate I.P. Address

When it rains, it pours, doesn't it?  I am compelled to consider this message quite seriously.   If this is accurate, it could explain a whollllllle lot, as I've been subject to several reminders over the past few years that I have no privacy whatsoever, including my e-mails and blog-post drafts that have not yet been posted.  It could also explain why I alternately have trouble logging on to wi-fi at various locations.  I think I just happened to click "diagnose problem" enough times on this occasion for the message to come through.  I guess I'll have to talk to to a computer-type fella and maybe show this to the po-po, as Crazy Christine liked to call them.   Here's an answer I found to the issue on Yahoo:

It means another computer or device with an IP address (xbox etc) is trying to use the same IP address as your computer thus information is being sent to both causing problems.

Hmmmmm.....fascinating...just fascinating.

..

Wakin' Up at the Crack O' Dawn...

 at 9 o'clock in the morn....

Filler Dialogue

.

No Words

It's Good to Laugh

"Now I Can Track Your Every Move" --Christine Faranda

Warning:

Um--I have a suggestion:

As Doug Heffernan's Been Known to Say...

for all "intensive purposes," it is over...bitchessssss.

Click on this link and search "Faranda."...

http://cp.onlinedockets.com/loraincp/case_dockets/search.aspx

R.....F.....I.....D

At Long Last...

Ms. Faranda has threatened to sue me.  For what, in terms of an award, I'm not sure, considering that I have nearly nothing.  In terms of the basis for the suit, I would imagine it's defamation.  Well, I've studied that a bit, and I've learned that in such a suit, the burden of proof is, in fact, on the plaintiff.  Therefore, Ms. Faranda will, in effect, have to prove her presumed claim that I am lying.  In my immature, unintelligent, rube-ish naivete, I would guess that all I would need to do is lend a little credibility to my story, which I'm guessing can be obtained from some old Cleveland medical records from when Christine was a kid.  Either way, unless someone steps in to make me happy, my entire story, including all the connections, the blacklisting, my emergency room experience, and most importantly the explicit death-threat I received on this blog and have proof of, will be told to my attorney, detail by detail.

Here we go, baby.


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PDA Close-ups...Over, and Over, and Over...

I get the feeling that PDAs aren't nearly as much of a faux pas in San Francisco as they are in New York, where they are positively unacceptable.  Nevertheless, the frequency with which the above scene occurs directly in front of me couldn't possibly be a coincidence.  Often, as these two did, both players give me a purposeful sly glance once or twice.  They always speak their syrupy exchange at an abnormally loud volume during these public pseudo-make-out sessions that generally go on for 20+ minutes.  You putzes are going to learn to leave me alone.  I promise.

.

Here's another good one...

Sometimes, it's funny...

For some reason I can't specifically identify, like many other strange things that happen on my computer, a collection of which I've shared with you, I can not log on the Wi-Fi at Sugar Cafe.  I've asked them about it, and their service is working fine and I can tell other people aren't having a problem.  So, I use some service that comes with a coupon-ad or something that you have to give your e-mail for every time you log on.  I give them my side/junk e-mail and, truthfully, haven't noticed  any SPAM apparently resulting from those log-ins yet.  Here's the page:

What's interesting, though, is that the service cuts out every few minutes despite its strong signal.  When I go to re-log in, the same ad appears on my screen every time and I am unable to go "back" to the page I was trying to get to when it disconned.  No problem...simply open links in another tab and/or get to the page I wanted through the History.