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.