Reporter’s Note | Ramola D | 2:07 pm, August 9, 2025, 3:26 pm
2:07 pm: A few factions of the Boston CIA were in evidence this morning, but they’re so closely wound in with the Quincy Police I often can’t tell the difference.
The Underworld of Police Lunacy is much in evidence though, and every day we see more of them behaving more and more foolishly.
The problem is, they’re Weapon-Crazy and Funds-Fixated and they’ve all figured out it’s easier to Break MY knee rather than confess to anything or creep away into the sunset accepting culpability for anything.
This morning, possibly around 4, I was woken by all sorts of things–pulsehits on my right knee, extreme heat on my back, vibrations on the bed, buzzes against my head. I twisted and turned, trying to find some comfort. Pulled the shields I had on my right knee back together. I had been being pulsed–electrical pulses making thud sounds now on a shield I pulled across elbow and knee, coming from the direction of possibly the Mazzeo shed and Chen Liming shed–from behind that is. I pulled my Reflectix Roll over my head again and thud-hits from above alerted me Ngoan Chen and boyfriend were sitting in their upstairs room, blasting my head and neck and face. Pulling this roll over my head evoked groans, transmitted. [Before I slept last night I had noted both their upstairs rooms were lit.] I moved, adjusted the pans at my spine and steady thud hits instantly sounded–Mazzeos from below. I turned, they were able to get my brain, brainstem, spine. From across the street, hits on the baking sheets covered with Reflectix propped by my feet and knee. Basically, however I turned, intense electrical sizzles were reaching through layers of shielding, finding gaps, blasthitting me. From all 3 sides, and possibly also the upstairs houses at 149/147 Pine–the Ruanes and the blue house next to it, 145/143 Pine. The Mazzeos are in the plural there, and several of them cower in different rooms, their 24/7 tracking and stalking and brain-grabbing lawless canned-hunt operations. I used to hear car doors before–this morning they stayed in bed I think, pointing and shooting.
I want to emphasize here that we are speaking of intense pulses of near-electricity, emanating from what the Air Force calls nanosecond Electric Pulse generators/weapons. There is little to no way to fully shield a knee from such pulses. I suspect it is with this weapon that all older men and women are being hit at the knees and shoulders with, perhaps also hips, to send them to hospitals for knee replacements, hip replacements, and physiotherapy. Every one of the Paul-clone-brothers who were here seemed to have the identical knee problem Paul had–Paul never believed me when I told him he was being hit, but he hadn’t seen the installations on the fence and behind the Chen Liming shed then. These are pictures I sent the Senate Intelligence Committee last year; these installations are still here, which suggests the US Military lies freely to Senators and “reads them in” only to keep their hands tied so they can’t do anything. Whoever’s running the US Military is the Problem here.
Over the past several weeks that I have been so obsessively assaulted at the right knee–they’ve also been attacking the left now with extra lightning strikes–I’ve noticed they attack the same nerve, the same part of bone over and over. I heal it with reiki and balm and massaging and Ibuprofen, then they hit again, over and over. They surround me with these attacks, as they did this morning. That’s Slavebinding–all 3-4 Slavemonsters here attacking to ensure No Escape–and I can’t tell if they have become Sadists now or are still just practicing. For they have turned into Ugly People–and I suspect the entire Military–and all militaries the world over–has. You can’t spend your lives and your days and your nights attacking people on their nerves and bones–and muscles, and organs and limbs–without your Brain and your Soul becoming quite Damaged.
This is Quincy.
A bunch of criminals with weapons who have consented to enter the Underworld and return to wear demonic mien among us. [Outside, planes, a man sneezes. I have been ignoring the zoomers. 2:31 pm.]
Their children suffer, and need rescuing. Note, these are the same people who go into other people’s houses with GUNS at night and early morning and stage SWAT team attacks and steal their children. We need to STOP them. 2:33 pm.
2:33 pm: Yesterday morning and this morning, for several hours, I have been “put to sleep” with forced vibrations on my spine and bed/couch today–attacks at the temple and forehead–the latter something I have understood only this morning. Reading Doris Lessing on the couch after I took my vegan Walnut Cake with its Cinnamon Crumb topping out of the oven, I kept falling to sleep over and over. At some point I heard a car pull into the Mazzeo drive. I gave up and slept finally–I had been fighting this intense attack and kept moving, waking–and [truck making strange sound goes by,2:37 pm] woke after an hour maybe. My right knee had been so intensely attacked it was in pain again, I had had to pile shields up against it on the couch for some relief. Zoomers went back and forth quietly for a while. Then I think a few people decided to sit in their cars. My feet were buzzing–as if nanobiosensors there had been newly placed and were being activated–my bladder was leaking, brainstem attacked and a sound forced out of my mouth. I moved, woke. Yesterday I had been attacked at the bladder while sitting and reading as well. Apparently they don’t like writers whose books they’ve removed from the Internet and from print to read. The CIA is who we all need to listen to, and the Police are who we need to heed. [Shortly after–or while–the CIA removed my second book from print–after making sure it was never launched, never reviewed, despite being awarded the 2008 AWP-Grace Paley Prize in Fiction, and was in fact marked with “negative royalties”!–and the AWP Director indicated her inability to address the situation, the 1952 novel “The Forbidden Notebook” by Cuban-Italian writer Alba de Cespedes was re-released. [With a foreword by Jhumpa Lahiri.] I say the CIA of course because I suspect that’s who it is. They run Media, they run Publishing, they run the disappearance of American Literature in the 20th and 21st centuries, and they disappeared my books and my writer’s name for what reason precisely? {The same reason they’ve disappeared the names and work of the True Writers in America, publishing only a fraction, tokenizing a fraction, and pursuing mediocrity, repetition, and agenda instead for the rest.}{Honks over here as I wrote that, 3:08 pm.}] And the CIA and the Police want to make sure they send ME a message about LEAKS by making MY BLADDER leak, when THEY are the ones afraid about all the information regarding their LAWLESS and ILLEGAL and UNLAWFUL WEAPONS USED UNLAWFULLY THROUGH-WALL on Everyone’s bodies and brains BEING DISCLOSED–which is not LEAKING.
JOURNALISM is NOT LEAKING.
WORDS are NOT WEAPONS.
Journalism, ultimately, is going to win. There is NO WAY IN HELL anyone alive in America is going to approve the POLICE and MILITARY and CIA using Stealth Weapons on us and our children. Stealth NEUROWEAPONS in fact, and stealth NERVE WEAPONS, BONE WEAPONS, MUSCLE and HEARTHIT WEAPONS. AND PANCREAS, LUNGS, LIVER, and GALLBLADDER and KIDNEY WEAPONS.
3:11 pm: As I write (cowering under shielding), my spine is being buzzed, my left knee is also being hit, and there are vibrations on the bed on which I sit. They’re 24/7, and they think they’re jaguars. Or serpents. Have they ever thought for a moment even what they might be without their weapons?
3:19 pm: I consulted my Dancing muse today–as yesterday and the day before and asked idly, for them really, for I can feel it, some of them asking this question (only some, masses of them are quite recalcitrant): What is going to happen to them? The answer was hands to face, to eyes, to mouth, cheeks, skin, hands–oneself–to self: Conscience.
When the rest of us live our lives in that way, aware of Consequences, aware of Our Own Part in what occurs, aware of our Souls, lurking there in the undergrowth even through our most angry and outraged moments–why shouldn’t they? “Teach your child to Share” but not in the Military, in Intelligence, in the Police or in those Halls of the Elite who hold the world’s “gold” and “keys to the kingdom”?
I will write more elsewhere about the Answers here for all of us who have been consigned to Enslavement and Slavebinding, No Escape treatment by people who need to lay down their arms and change their ways.
Because God is here with us. And THEY are NOT WINNING. Sorry to crow–but that’s the TRUTH. 3:25 pm.
3:28 pm: Let me also report, that last night as I went to bed and this morning as I twisted and moved around– [Jailer from the street shouts, Break Time! To herself I hope. 3:29 pm. She appears to be sitting in her car–kids talking–and at one point I thought I heard someone starting and turning and parking closer. Unable to rise though, my leg is broken. 3:30 pm]–I was intensely attacked at the ribs and under my legs with HEMI hits–electromuscular incapacitation, being used to send Paralysis and Cramping hits–and why under the ribs? Because it’s Torture that’s why. Torturous Abuse, extremely difficult to stop–you have to move and twist and flex and stick orgonite, stone, rubber, Reflectix there immediately, whatever’s to hand. I’ve mentioned earlier how this thing they call HEMI is UNLAWFUL. The police cannot use it. The military cannot use it. It is a Crime Against Humanity to use such a weapon–for it is slavebinding. It binds the body. It prevents escape. It is intimate electroshock abuse. You cannot call it “electrical restraint” [Blondie’s car door slams, 3:37 pm] and actually use it on people. Like the TASER, like the BOLA WRAP, HEMI which is HUMAN ELECTROMUSCULAR INCAPACITATION is an UNLAWFUL ELECTRICAL WEAPON–and like BLINDING LASERS or MINES: IEDs, they need to be BANNED the world over. Those who have been hit by this weapon–it is insidious, its effects are all for Plausible Deniability, they can be Subtle–and know it (not all do), know that the cramps and sudden twist-pains come from weapon-use, must speak about it. Like the nsEP, it needs to be BANNED. One breaks your knees, the other gives you intense muscular spasm-like pain to stop you from moving. [Jerkshock, top of head, 3;45 pm.]
6:00 pm: A plane flight across backyard after that posting. Right now: Heat on back of neck, extreme pulse hit on the nerve-bone are of the Right Knee as I sit down upstairs with some Veg soup. Noises in the street. A while ago, while downstairs, I heard sounds of a kid on a scootee outside. They throw their kids outside with balls or scootees to make a racket when I am in my kitchen, dining, or reading-room in front. Zoomers have been parking to hit–noticed a large silver Suburban and a small bright blue car, the latter parked on the hill opposite the stove as I was heating soup. I moved and avoided being hit. Not so just now. Stalking like this could only be accomplished with through-wall naked-seeing privacy-intrusion: MMW.
6:44 pm: Another snarling motor vehicle revs up the hill. One came by close under the window and sat with its engines on. I heard shots on the shielding. I retreated further. Propped up the reflectix roll. On one side I am being RF HPM pulsed in the face to stop the breathing. The people on the street are trying to find my knee. it must be hard, through these now-layers of shielding. Disgruntled behavior is what we’re seeing.
They have the children on the deck now, playing and being loud.
Another zoomer right to left. 6:47 pm.
8:07 pm: Vroomer starts up. His most “authentic” form of being…
Takes off quietly, surprisingly. We’re left with the Ladies of the Squadron parked opposite–the Chevy Traverse is back in front of our house. Lady Police keen to inform me they’ve been reading–and are unrepentant and still-obsessed with Grant Money and Pretend-Jail-Running: “We Like Our Crime and We Intend to Keep Running It–Welcome to Quincy”. But I’ve been in Quincy now 14 years and I have some Opinions.
From behind, waves of energy at my back. I’ve switched the fan on, am using Tiger Balm again. The pulsing is immediate when I get up from the bed, from all sides. Grant-money decrees that the Police become Criminals and they have embraced Pulsing Electrically with a Novo Ordis passion. They have Royal Blue in their garden now and an orange and white beach ball seen bobbing about in their hedge yesterday. [A motorbike just went by, slightly subdued, perhaps toward a funeral. 8:12 pm.] Talking about which, yesterday the Keohane Funeral Home sent me a letter. Of greeting and warmth, I think, I haven’t opened it yet.
I am mostly getting to know the people of Quincy through their Obits. In The Quincy Sun. But also the local Police-Fire-Parks-Public Works-CIA-Restaurant understructure–and their dear friends, the General Dynamics and Raytheon fusion stalkers with the large pickups. Oh yes, we’re all Texas now. 8:15 pm.
