Trivial Tales...

Stranger in a Strangely Stupid World: 1

Robert K Hogg

Sunday 16 March. Still Sat for me. It figures really, that the terminal
passive aggressors would form themselves into organized groups. That
it should be no surprise to me that what I experience from individuals
and have done over the years should also occur on a group level. It’s
all about bodies and specialness of course. Call it organized delusion.
Good one. If they’re so clever, how come I get all the time and peace
in the world to write? But then it does and will affect everythung I do;
if I let it. Perhaps I’m seen as a low priority in my reborn role as
enemy of the state; neighbourhood threat. Or that it’s easier to harass
me outside than it is inside. But the phone-tapping is harassment of
course, and who’s to say the place isn’t bugged. And this is a low tech
computer of course, and not connected to the net, so there’s little way
of copying any of this covertly except to come in and copy it to disc –
hey, that is covert, only the CD function doesn’t seem to work for that,
and it’s a lot of writing for floppies, and I’ve inadvertently disabled it
anyway. Good one. In short, they’d have to take the whole computer.
I shouldn't put it past them. I see the one I threw out is still there. A lot
of writing on it too. 100 pages is worth reading to see what the hell
was on my mind 5 years ago. But I’ve a pretty good idea. That and an
abondoned novel over rwo hundred pages, from 2002.

Thou Shalt Always Kill. I can’t recall his complicated name tag, but
he’s really good. Must remember to look it up on You Tube to send to
T and others. Is he being funny with the title or what? (Sorry, I can't
recall who I was referring to here). It sounds like a gangstalkers creed,
or their avowed if covert intention. It doesn’t surprise me then to hear
it said that they’d prefer to murder TI’s outright. Hey, that’s me folks.
Geez, I’m flattered. But you can but hurt yourself. What a nightmare
you’re involved in, to be sure. This means you. It occurred to me
while I was seeing to my fish – I mean my late tea, not a pet; you might
poison it – that groupstalkers are just an extension of narcissism. L
was the perfect illustration of the gangstalking mentality. Forever
fishing for information while keeping all and any cards firmly to her
chest. It became more than apparent that she saw having info on others
as synonymous with power. She was always focused and never let up.
To me it felt psychopathic as much as it was narcissistic. She seemed
naturally right-wing. Her conceit could be absurd to the point of a
superiority complex, yet she was deeply, profoundly insecure and
fearful. She was a bloody mess; the victim of her own contradictory
and fundamentally insane mindset. The belief in her own guilt had
wrapped itself around her so that it permeated her every perception and
emotion. Her solution was projection, and denial of her own
aggression. And this is what I was thinking about in the kitchen. That
it can be difficult enough as it is to get anyone to admit they like to
indulge in passive or indirect/sneaky aggression. This in itself can be
seen as a form of passive aggression. Some people would seem to
deny that it exists at all. Talk about BS. Yet the state of the world
contradicts that every day. Talk about dissociation. Talk about nuts. Is
it any wonder that more organized covert aggression would be denied
all the more? The media has nothing to say on it it seems. Not a thing.
Surely there’s been a talk show on the subject? (Yes). One for Google,
but I’m not going to bet on it; wouldn’t stake my life on it. The Game.
Now that was a movie based on group/gangstalking, surely. To be
sure. Micheal Douglas as the big exec is as good as brought to his
knees. It was incredible. It was all there. One that I just read earlier
this very evening; was about techies who tamper with radio and TV
transmissions... The newsreader starts talking to him – as they do –
then reverts to normal as soon as his maid walks in. I couldn’t believe
that movie. It was pretty incredible. I have the video, but my player
isn’t linked up, as I couldn’t do it. I’d watch it this morning if I could.
They even have him think he’s killed his brother in retaliation – Sean
Penn, who set it up as a birthday present for him, through some large
organization/corporation. A sly reference perhaps to the fact that
corporations will often target individuals they see as a threat or who
might betray them as they see it, as with Russell Crowe in… it’s gone.
I can never seem to remember the name of that movie. He plays the
whisleblower who blows the lid on the tricks of the tobacco industry.
He receives death threats on his computer and is stalked by various
individuals and groups. He reacts, and quite aggressively. As a
nobody, I’ve been cooler and less demonstrative. As sly as my stalkers
in my own way. Here’s Richard Jenni talking about “the cigarette
people.” “The biggest bullshitters…” He’s quite brilliant. Micheal
Douglas commits suicide in The Game by throwing himself off a
building, but this is anticipated also. Up till then, he’s driven to the end
of his tether. “It’s complicated,” he says to the authority figure. But
we know as much or as little as he does as we’ve seen it from the
beginning like him. We’re on his side. Or should be. Because the end
only justifies the means only in the logic of deceit and in “reality,” it’s
even more frightening. But what better than a novel to bring the sick
fantasy to the fore in a coherent and credible fashion, in all its weird
and warped permutations? You said it. The movie did a great job.
That everyday reality can be more mundane, if no less unsettling.
Ultimately it’s all trivial. Imagine wasting your life through devoting it
to harassing various individuals; spending all your time in surveillance
on foot and in cars. The ultimate in reality television as someone put
it. Devoting one's life to seeing ones own guilt in others. The story of
our lives. I’m sure they believe they have their reasons. I think after
the best part of a decade it’s about time they fucked off. There have
been more break-ins in the area, pretty much coinciding with when I’d
expected to be leaving – and broadcasted it over the phone to my dad
over the past weeks; months. And to T and S and R through email.
Then there’s ringing the cable company to say I was expecting to move
the following week and where. Curses, I shoulda used a callbox. That
didn’t materialize, as the money went through for the rest here still, but
I since told my dad I’d be moving this week, or as good as said it as by
this time I wouldn’t be specific and explained why as best I could.
Hey, I’m being gangstalked by a hatefilled right-wing vigilante posse.
Cosy little Edinburgh on the Viewforth/Poleworth/Morningside side is
what it must be like to live in the deep South South in the 60’s.
Suddenly I’m having a taste of what it must be like to be a Jew in Nazi
Germany or a citizen in East Germany in the 50’s and 60’s with the
Stasi on your back, or an American during the McCarthy era – the 50’s
– when your friend and neighbour would shop you to save their own
skins. Nothing new under the sun. But I bring the end of the world
with me as I hold the hand of Jesus and he brings it along with me and
all my brothers and sisters. They’re not in charge and never were; he
is. We’re a collective entity. They choose to see themselves as bodies,
separate from themselves, each other, and God; and finding reasons for
hatred and to see their brothers as different from themselves is the
pretext, in the belief it brings them together, but in reality it would
exclude what it believes it joins with. The paradox and perhaps irony
of the situation is I can find it so engrossing and engaging, however
nasty the motivation and purpose behind it; that it takes my mind off
what really can get me down if I let it, and that’s the daily thought and
reminder of not doing and having done music. A situation that only
highlights the inherent illusion of the situation and of these people in
reality, and even the wider scheme of things, not least me and my
lifelong ambitions and preoccupations, compared to the hypocritical
and destructive purpose of such individuals who waste their own time
and lives as much as they tie up others in their self-righteous causes
and delusions. It’s like my life has went down this illusory avenue
that’s attracted further illusion in the form of a bunch of bodies –
people who believe their and my reality is a body and is all there is.
But illusion is illusion is illusion. Whether it’s 1000 or 100,000 or 100
million makes no difference. I’m not a body, I’m free. I knew all that
Course reading wouldn’t go to waste.