Wednesday, January 27, 2010


Yes I'm flattered. And would deservedly blush to learn that I am wrong.

Flattered that perhaps the planes who have been circling my hair-do for six months are either reading my blogs or have been sent by those who are reading them.

Many people are reading them. I have learned this via other means, despite the data on the view counter that has shown the same number for eons. Like I'm expected to believe that -- along with the sudden getting bumped off-line during editing mode, with no copy/paste functions, etc. Apparently some software geek at this blog-net has been told to cripple my blogging tools best he can. This further flatters me. Good thing I seldom copy or paste anything. Why would I when hip-shots are more fun?

Reliable sources tell me that the "N" numbers on the aircraft are registered to the Department of Justice, Department of Homeland Security and the Sheriff's office. They fly at three-hour intervals. In circles. Like buzzards.

I have seen photos of cameras on the ventral side of helicopters. It appears they fly around, shooting video of unintentional movie stars. Kind of like the news-hounds, but with more sophisticated equipment.

And noticed, over the months, what appears like helicopter and Cessna-escorts as I drive down the freeways. Too much of a coincidence does it appear to me to have it happen frequently. But then my car does have a GPS-tracker that was installed by the manufacturer in a hidden place that is not listed in the owner's manual. Hmmm... We all know how everybody suddenly wants to steal everybody's car, but would this device merit a Top Secret (covert/clandestine) status even from its owner?

It sure would explain last night's police car on my six. And several others. I see them parked near my residence like they are waiting for me to go somewhere so they can follow me. And then they do. One day I saw a U.S. Mail jeep following me. No kidding, even after U-turns, he kept following me. I don't think he was a mail man.

It's all very entertaining. The surveillance game. Tap phones, monitor email, break into mail boxes, intercept incoming mail, root through the garbage, have the local police follow them around, watch them from the air, around the clock, yadda yadda.

The reason they watch you from outside is because they are worried that you will visit a neighbor/friend/colleague/contact/acquaintance, etc. or that one of them will visit you. This way you can exchange information that is outside the scope of their surveillance tools. Due to this factor, I wondered if those persistent missionaries who kept trying to get into my house were really just missionaries. The CIA loves to recruit Mormons because they are reliable, drug-free and obedient. Did I mention conveniently luke-warm in their "religious" pursuits? Christian "centrists" who don't even hear a Sunday sermon. Handy jacks for future federal service. Their "love of the Lord" never gets in the way of the company line. These tidy boys were persistent beyond the norm in my case. Wanted to get into my house something fierce. Kept calling my phone persistently.

There was also a federal agent who rang my door bell a couple of times. He left a message that he had some questions for me. I suggested that we discuss them over my tapped phone. That way we could be sure the call was being recorded for his future records.

Two days in a row I encountered the same aerial-ballet chopper on my way to the gyms. These were different gyms in different parts of town. Did he follow me? The city is by the sea. Terrain is flat. You can see aircraft for miles. I'll have to ask my buzzard friends.

There are sadistic fiction writers, I infer, who work for the ADL and their bed-buddy, the CIA. They write as though their job is to litter cyberspace with hysterical, bogus, wordy, voluminous, wearisome stories about how they are being followed and harassed by federal agencies. It reads like a man wrote it. Some twisted hack. This is to discredit those who say that this is happening to them.

We have photographs of all those planes and helicopters that appear to be following me up and down the freeway. Telephoto lenses work equally-well on drones and hang-gliders, by the way. Those "N" numbers are crystal clear. Now you know why many of the spray-planes don't have them. You could trace the numbers to who owns the planes.

One more buzz around the bee-hive and I shall feel like a back-up singer for the B-52's. And those N-numbers will be the next thing in the news.