Reporter’s Note | Ramola D | 11:26 am, August 24, 2025, 4:55 pm
11:26 am: A plane just droned by while zoomers pounded the street. A few minutes ago, around 11:02 or 3 am, an intense electrical pulse hit blasted through all shielding and attacked my right knee again. This happened a few times and I couldn’t figure out where the pulse was coming from. I moved and added more shields and heard the hits from behind: the Mazzeo shed, from kitty-corner diagonal: Chen Liming shed, and below and in front: the Chen Liming Minivan parked in their drive, their house itself, with its many suspect installations all over the side facing us. Just to be on the safe side, I also moved a basting pan to shield from the Starsiaks.
New zoomer just now, someone parks by the oak, and RNM spiders on my right calf. They’re very keen to find the nerves on my knee it appears and work incessantly on their DISABLE FOR LIFE project here. I’m already hobbling, using a shield as I walk inside, my knee’s been blasted to bits but no, they’re not satisfied. In the bathroom this morning, with the sound shield, I found they were sending low amounts of RF HPM from all sides to the knee, and intense amounts of RF to my face. You can’t breathe when they do this and I wasn’t breathing. My nose was stuffed again, despite copious amounts of orange juice and Vitamin C I had taken yesterday.
11:32 am: It’s Slavery they’re practicing, for they haven’t stopped. The Black Pickup has returned outside although last night it wasn’t there at midnight. Witnessed here near 8 am. Which means it was quite involved in the extreme heat sent to my back and spine early morning and middle of the night, as well as all the RF hitting of my knee no doubt past midnight when I stayed up working and watching a telenovela–for I sure as heck am returning to my fiction and my poetry. In addition to my journalism, which isn’t stopping. Count this as journalism. 11:37 am.
3:26 pm: Another plane just went by. I’d piled on more shielding as the Blondie club sitting on their porch pumped radar through what I have piled against my knee. It’s my Knee they want today, that and my face. Near national emergency this morning as I sat writing and they couldn’t find that nerve on my knee to blast to hell and back. Sirens, 3:27 pm. The police in this town have Mud in their heads, it’s clear to see.
3:28 pm: At around 1:41 pm, I was blasthit in my right knee–filled with shielding–with someone sending Electricity or Radar to pump through those layers of mini cake pan steel and aluminium. I had been approaching the art room window, noticing Blondie J the Elder was on th eporch, talking to “Bryan” and “Daniel” the latter a smaller boy, both playing in the sad-looking drive, with a basketball I think. Neon Coral and blue was there–Bryan–and the other one, being called Daniel. I was pulse-hit at speed and intensity twice on my knee. I moved my camera to get a shot. Blondie held up her bag. I went over to the other window for it seemed the shot came slightly obliquely from the street, perhaps from across the street where a bunch of cars were parked. A woman got out of a large black police-looking jeep like thing and began to pretend to be moving things, including a car seat from the curb to the white SUV parked opposite, The Angela Mergel of Mergel-bike-police Mitzen-house ownership? There are no kids in that house, but like Samantha du-jour, she was moving a car seat and sticking it in another car. Perhaps there are weapons inside these fake car seats–as there may be inside the Fake Babies they bring around, for prop.
I think this woman was sitting in the black car but directing a hit from the white car across the street. I could be wrong. but that’s what it felt like. Radar pulse hits, pumping through steel. [Blondie yelling No, kids squalling, a car just blazed up the hill a couple minutes ago–3:35 pm.] Was Blondie orchestrating it? I think so. And furthermore, so were the Chen Limings and Mazzeos. I’m fairly certain of it. When I came down a bang from the Chens let me know they had been sitting in their car, stalking and tracking (It’s all they do, apart from hitting–and abusing their kids.) and just now, as I resolved to sit down and report this–my every resolve and thought relayed to them by BCI-CBI and Brain Decoders in real time, the Mazzeos banged their car door and sped off. They’re unhappy I have Resolve left, and Health of any kind, given what they’ve done and are doing. Vicious vicious criminals. Working together in deranged fixation, seeking to destroy my knee, and give me Pain every minute. Well it’s not on.
[Kid on loud plastic toy blasting down street, 3:41 pm–Blondie and co yelling.]
I do have Resolve, and plenty of it. I also do have Health, and I’m not letting go of it. Despite the blast hits on my nose just now while downstairs and up here too. They want me Unbreathing and sickening.
Screaming kids, one saying I wanna die or I wanna try, and quite loud suddenly. 3:43 pm.
One more chance, says the child, and No, say the playacting abusers (the adults over there). Max pain for children and writers is their motto. 3:44 pm.
I must have been hit around 1:39 pm.
TURQUOISE EVERYWHERE FOR THE MARINE CORPS WHO MADE THESE WEAPONS AND THINK THEY CAN BE USED ON CIVILIANS BY POLICIA AND PEOPL E ARE GOING TO LET THEM, FOREVER
4:27 pm: Now I would like to say a few words about the CIA. Very clearly they have decided to be SLAVERS FOR LIFE. “We are the CIA and we must do EXTREME, SCUMMY THINGS till the end of Time. Barring which, we cannot exist.” That’s where they’re wrong, and hardly no one amongst them stops to think that SURVIVAL usually depends on a few things, some not exactly in their grasp. Must the CIA survive? I vote No, and many will concur, I think. [Blast hit on my back: Buzz off please, I am not speaking to the CIA. 4:29 pm} I have many plots, plans, and schemes coming up momentarily, and NONE OF THEM INVOLVE THE CIA. When I close my eyes and look, ever so quietly, at where they are headed, I do see a lot of things. A Very Bleak FLAT LINE is one of them. 4:30 pm.
But for now, let’s face facts. I am forced to cower and shield while women in pretty cover-alls over their swimsuits can sit on the street up the hill from me and blast-radar my knee to bits. I am clearly a SLAVE TO THE CIA and I must know my boundaries. Oh yes. I mustn’t expect to escape standing upright, both knees whole. I must expect ABSOLUTE CARNAGE.
I must expect to be LOCKED IN HERE FOREVER LIKE RAPUNZEL. No phonecalls, no conversation. Nothing. My phone slammed into extinction, no one able to call me, and myself ditto. When I dial numbers on my landline, they go to the Central Bureau of Hell, where everything is dead: Golden Pond cannot answer (Donna is dead, they’d like me to believe); calling Paul at his workspot leads to the number ringing through to Circle Op Mazzeo-CIA-Psy-Op Special and strange-voiced men answering; what else? I used to be able to chat with CIA DAD now and then; he would call and tell me to go to bed, go to bed! It was late of course–and it took me a while to figure out CIA is in the MIDDLE–no email I send, no phone call I make reaches its destination, a CIA-morph will answer instead. Emails from fake cousins, fake brothers-in-law, fake Pauls, fake Reubens [A car nearby slams doors and takes off, 4:38 pm.] come my way, always demanding something. That’s EMAIL OVERLAY and they’ve been thorough. Then the Sophie-children. Ah but we want to GASLIGHT you to eternity. So no chance of these kids calling up, revealing their names, or acknowledging the fact that the CIA has gathered all the clones of Paul and the clones of Sophie and is clinging to them like the criminals they are. “We’ve made clones but you can’t tell anyone.” “Everyone may know about the clones but you can’t speak about them.” “It’s all TOP SECRET STILL and the mothers of the cloned have to be Disappeared.” Yes, that’s been happening.
4:43 pm: Yesterday on the couch, I was repeat left-brain hit, by the Mazzeos, very sharp, vicious hits, difficult to shield from. Just a few minutes ago, intense RF pulses from all sides on my nose, inducing Runny Nose immediately. Downstairs, intense RF hits for Nose Stuffy.
I could spend my days reporting these crimes, over and over. It’s a whole bunch of people I’m aware, behind this. But the CIA and the Police protect them. They’re accountable therefore, for these crimes. It’s Intended-Murder, Intended-Disablement, Daily and Hourly Disease-Creation. It’s Murder. They’ve chosen Murder with these weapons, they’ve chosen Killing People In Their Beds, Homes, Yards, Lives. They’ve chosen Abuse of Powers, Abuse of Weaponry, Abuse of Equipment. [Honk on the street as a plane flies closeby, 4:47 pm.] Well, when they chose LAWLESSNESS, did they think it would last forever? “We’re Police, we’re DHS, we’re CIA, and we get to SUPPRESS THE PEOPLE FOREVER”?
EGO.
Robert Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Project went precisely there, where the CIA and the POLICE and DHS have gone now.
The Emperor had surrendered, when they dropped those bombs–fast, one after the other. August 6 and 9, 1945.
The Unwritten Record/National Archives: Link Roundup: The Atomic Bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki – The Unwritten Record.
Did they have any right? No, none whatsoever.
As is the case currently.
Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the Holocaust. Why have we forgotten Hiroshima and Nagasaki? Dresden. Others.
These weapons wipe out Normalcy, Sanity, Civility, Culture, Life. They wipe out Human Rights and Civil Rights.
And we are supposed to sit back and let them “study Brains” and “study Behavior” and “study ethnicity” and “study Families” while they pound us to death. That’s Slavery, and it’s time someone woke them up to what they CANNOT DO. They cannot experiment on Brains and Bodies through-wall. They cannot read minds and brains and neural networks. They cannot implant people. They cannot barge in and claim people are Mental and need kidnapping and secret implanting. 4:55 pm.
Zoomer up the hill as I published that. 5:0 pm now.
5:02 pm: ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE DEVELOPMENT needs to be halted. NEURAL NETWORK MAPPING ditto. BRAIN DECODING ditto. MIND HIVING ditto. DIGITAL TWIN making ditto. Stop these criminal pursuits which involve beating people to death with RF and Electrical and Millimeterwave and Neuro weapons.
8:04 pm: While I’ve been off and on sitting here, upstairs by the side of the bed, compelled to switch the fan on now and then since the Mazzeos are turning on MMW/5G each time I write a word they dislike (quite a few I’d think) and the heat becomes oppressive–although it’s just in the seventies here, blast heat pushes us into the 100s quick–Yes, more Torture, Physical Abuse, Abuse of Weaponry they’re given [Who gives them these weapons, and what are their instructions? Blast her to death, Burn her to death, Boil her to death?], each time I move, or a zoomer shows up, massive knee hits ensue. They’re fixated on re-injuring that nerve, ligament, bone, over and over. a halfhour ago, the Chen Limings got in a few good hits–instant breakdown of knee again while I scramble for more shielding, adjusting it, then stumbling down the corridor, adjusting the pans and rubber over the kneecap, removing pressure, holding up my half-inch cake sheet shields by the knee, finally arriving at some measure of relief. Hobbling downstairs, similarly. Able to walk, when they don’t hit. Realizing those two shields block the electric pulse blasts now, and therefore the knee feels better, safer.
But there’s no Safety without them. [Plane overhead now, hunting, 8:11 pm] And the Inhumane Canned Hunters nearby keep probing, attacking. I move, and there is a possibility of being Knee-Nerve-hit.
How exactly did the US Air Force and the Department of Justice approve of these weapons again? And that habit of attacking the same knee-nerve over and over, is that a “Source and Methodology” the CIA likes to hide with their “Glomar responses”? “Oh we don’t like to reveal our Torture Methods.”
Pain is the route to the Brain, says Giordano, smirking. We call it “Chronic Pain” and use our Neural Weapons to break nerves and brains–of course, quite TOP SECRET and we will call them “psychosomatic” evidences from the “hypochondriac” masses should any demur. We are after all working very hard in the National Security interest, to remove Knees, Arms, Legs, many parts, all for empirical reasons.
These are INHUMANE and UNETHICAL weapons which need BANNING. ALL OF THEM. 8:17 pm.
11:53 pm: Mazzeos blasthit the RIGHT SIDE of my brain now, by the ear–the Right Auditory Cortex. Perhaps they want to even out the Damage? “We could clip a little off the right side, might stop the Disclosure.” Not a chance. Ngoan Chen meanwhile heckles by re-reading these words. 11:57 pm. Streaming their amp’d Techno Acousto in is the high point of their day. “Our job is to remove her Inner Voice and replace it with ours, all of ours, and we are getting so good now at using Her neural networks to run ahead and tell her what she is going to think Next.” [They lie freely to themselves.] Their little game of stealing Neural Networks also involves Extrapolation, a carousel of spinnings–their only “Creative” input here. “We get to Generate Pretrained Transfers all over the place” “That makes it Our Property although we start with Her head.” They are both grasping and insane. They want to practice with someone else’s brain because–they are so profoundly brilliant they must be allowed to steal someone else’s IP? “We are Brilliant and no one will notice.” 12:06 am/8/25/2025.Shielding my Right Brain now…12:09 am.
