Reporter’s Note | Ramola D | May 6, 2025, 1:24 am
Perhaps this is intended:
Private Print Logs, May 5, 2025:
3:08 am: Strange druglike smell sprayed through vents.
5:13 pm: I woke this morning to very loud truck sounds, great booms, ELFS almost rocking the bed into a hole, and sudden traversing of trucks back and forth around the block, seeming sounds of power washing or mega drilling. A loud hit sounded underneath my head on a metal plate. Not knowing what was going on, I stole a look at the clock. It was about 8:20 am. I couldn’t really open my eyes, having slept around 3:30 am and being blasted with heat again. I moved, flexed my feet. In my peregrinations through history and spatial time lately I have begun to understand how the body works. Through the spine, a great deal, and the hands, and the feet. Flex your feet when you are half awake, make like a ballet dancer, move, do some slight spinal yoga in bed and slowly your body wakes up. It is a very easing, gradual movement into consciousness and the new day.
5:16 pm: Given the incredibly loud sounds I went toward the front windows upstairs to see what was happening, the sound increasing as I approached the Art Room. I was quite afraid really for it sounded noxious. There were large trucks all over the place and two men, young, African-American, were tearing up the perfectly good tarred road with mega drills, one at the center where a drain lid was, large blocks of tar already torn up. The road was not torn up then but a large square block was visible where some grading had been done. This square, curiously, encompassed our private parking spot and the spots opposite, a square in fact between the QDC-QPD house and ours. A cozy straight-across square, and that black pick-up parked cozily up the hill above it.
5:20 pm: It is a cold day again and I have had to turn the heater on. We are being plunged into repeat winter in Spring, for the Navy and Air Force can do that now. They can do Anything. Yes, and those men wore hard hats, one Substance-Abuse Spring Green and the other UN-CIA White. Both were in lime neon vests I think, and one had blue gloves on. The other had white. I wondered if they were clones too. They often bring workerbee clones by here, and these guys might have been. The Spring Green on the one man’s head is a color being used by the Substance Use Disorder mavens who freely accuse all of being Substance Abusive even if one has no idea what Substance is being referred to: check their documents. This is a Cabal or Pirate Club in operation, and they are working hard to deceive people–mostly the Highly Educated and the Touchingly Trusting, often arriving here in the dog-eat-dog world of the East Coast from the Denim-skirt and overall-wearing Midwest, not far from Kansas, very Blonde of course, and Secular, mostly, having worn out Religion over the Generations–about themselves being acutely Discerning, and everyone else needing Help. This is one of their approaches, they have many, being Strategic.
Now I must say these men and their bosses — probably whispering sweet nothings into BCI chips in their heads, or their cochlear implants, humming away in Spyland — must have had Eyes in the Back of their Heads for no sooner had I glimpsed them than they dashed over to the curb in front of our house and began drilling and tearing up the tarred road at that very edge, as if making a point of some sort. One of them, the Green-Hatted one seemed to have a cigarette stuck in his mouth, smoking away apparently all by itself. I don’t think I actually saw this man touch that thing. He came as close as he could to our garden and ambled about youthfully in our drive. Up the hill I witnessed CAT cabs and a large semi. Going to the other window, I read the lettering on the side spelled out in green over white–hardly missable: Riley, it said. The noise was deafening. The CAT thing drove over and covered the lumps of tarred road flung up by the drillers. On the other side I saw various cars parked and another truck.
Later I saw the Riley semi–a large flatbed semi–pulled down past the oak on the other side. Oddly, the first time I viewed this clearly contrived Production of Deafening Noise Harassment and Criminal Trespass crime, I thought they were respecting our Privacy and leaving our private parking spot alone. Not so. Daring quintillions in Fines, these truck men and Drillers attacked without a qualm, apparently with intent to Rile. 5:34 pm.
6:06 pm: RF Blast under Reflectix on the left side of my chest obviously at my heart. I’ve been looking at a couple Quincy Access TV videos of school committee and city council meetings, something I should check out more regularly. It is concerning that these tarmen could simply roll up and destroy the peace of the morning and our street by tearing it up in this fashion, no explanations given. Their disruptive behavior went on the whole morning until 12 noon when they left, after having drilled and torn up and retarred that large square, using many different trucks, and what looked like 2 police parties, one a woman who had what looked like a cellphone in her hands and was seemingly photographing the Drill Men, each time I came down to the front to glance at what they were all doing. I rather suspect she was pointing and shooting to take readings off the unlawfully implanted implants on my spine–but, she had some Plausible Deniability going there. Hubris in every way, Quincy Police behaving in this fashion, and the City behaving in this fashion. That street does not belong to the city but to the home-owners on the street. The City cannot roll in overnight and make a racket like that and tear up the street without our permission. They certainly did not have mine–and if they are calling up Paul clones for their Paul-impersonation-fraud project, well then they are behaving doubly criminally.
So, did the Pam Bondi article bring them here, or was it the 3 Notices completed over the weekend? Perhaps Reporter’s Note 68? I hardly know, and I am not going to speculate. There is not a word I have written which is not Truth and Fact. The City of Quincy, like the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and like the construct of US Inc, perhaps the White House Corporation, cannot stop people from Speaking, Writing, Broadcasting, and Publishing both their Opinions and the Facts on any subject. Freedom of speech is our birthright, as is freedom of Press and journalism. Pam Bondi has made an unthought-through error, and must retract her statements and Memo. That is my opinion and I have published it. We are living in conditions of Squalor and Crime in Quincy as indeed the whole of the USA, with civil and human rights in abeyance. We literally have to speak to claim our rights, which is what I have been doing. Those occupying “elected” positions are acting against the Law in harming us and in opening us to Harm. Taking action to harm others and permitting the harming of others is criminal, which means the entire City Council, School Committee and the Mayor’s office is engaging in crime and has been, for quite a long time now. 6:19 pm.
The School Committee meeting I briefly glimpsed–need to watch it further–seemed to be tormenting a vaccine-damaged child and claiming a new form of education and the teaching of social skills to a child “diagnosed” with Autism. Lie World is in operation everywhere apparently, and the entire “Behavioral Health” world has lost its marbles–if it ever had any. “Pivotal Response Treatment” supposedly child-led and “Applied Behavior Analysis” some more catchwords in crime here to deconstruct. The meeting was April 30, 2025: Quincy School Committee: Subcommittee (April 30, 2025).
9:45 pm: Grazing hit on left brain–direction of the Chen Liming shed and Mergel houses. Sound of curses sent in on Holosound or audio bugs from Ngoan Chen. All evening I have been grazed variously on the right brain–from the direction of the Mazzeo house–and the left brain, top and behind ear. Around 6:30 and later 7 and 8 I witnessed a person get out of a large SUV parked outside the Mergels wearing an orange jacket, the second time over black. The first seemed like a woman with short blonde hair. Getting out of that car and going into that house. Was that a threat of orange jumpsuits? I’m quite aware of the criminality of courts here and police–the ones who wrongfully capture women and apparently also stick them in jail: this will not be happening here. There are no criminals here but in the offices of so-called “government.”
I have also been thwack-hit audibly on the shielding back of my head–once while downstairs in the bathroom just directly across from the Moran driveway on Norfolk, and that hit clearly came from there. Obscene presumption and slaveholder behavior.
In front, mercury lights from some guy parked on the hill, constant zooming down of SUVs and cars, and two large SUVs looking like police and FBI boats parked on the hill. 9:52 pm.
Helicopter across Norfolk, 10:10 pm as I look up the Office for Civil Rights in the USA.
10:16 pm: Blast hit on left breast–Chen Liming shed/Mergel side as I write down the email for the HHS Office of Civil Rights in my letter to the City.
10:59 pm: Radar flicks at left breast, thuds on Reflectix, and sounds of a rooftop drone dragging across the top–are they getting in line to blast me in some way again?
12:04 am: Helicopter at 12:03 am after I sent the resend with the 3 paras which got cut strangely. I need to publish this. Rd. 12:05 am.
12:24 am: During the writing of this letter–which I tried to send before midnight–I was being attacked both at my seat, my heart and above in sound harassment on the Reflectix roll. Those who are sitting next door and throwing LRADs into this house–one just sounded on the chair and Shield behind it, from the Mergel or Chen Liming houses, 12:25 am, May 6, 2025–12:26 now: are behaving cavalierly and presumptuously, with arrogance. Believing they are superior and thinking they can do this because they have the weapons and we don’t. We cannot be hit with these weapons, none of us. They need the weapons removed from their hands.
12:27 am: If the CIA is to continue onward–as it has done in the past–and all Military and DOJ divisions as well, as they too have done in the past, then I am being asked to be a zombie and accepting of my death in life, so I can be blasted to death each day with these weapons and have no life or future to look forward to. Well that is out of the question. I cannot be put to death in this fashion and nor can anyoen else. Ergo: All of this has to be fully exposed and fully stopped. Stat. 12:29 am. May 6, 2025.
1:39 am: A few minutes ago I felt the insistent hit of their auditory-cortex RF Blasts on my left auditory cortex and shifted my hat to shield that spot. I am sitting on the bed facing the backyards and the Mazzeos are in their rooms upstairs, blasting the back of my head. The moment I shielded my head, I was blast hit with cramps on my ribcage at my heart. I could barely move. Twisting, falling back, rushing to find other shielding there to protect myself, I heard the blast hits on my shield. [RNM on my left knee, behind, 1:41 am]. Is it Hiroshima then that they want, or Nagasaki? They want utter destruction. They don’t Care about utter destruction. Somehow they have come to think of themselves as military fiends who won’t give an inch. But is that truly the military? I would think many who join the Forces still have a religion. But somebody dropped those bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Someone ploughed ahead, wanting complete and utter destruction. Someone did not care that real people with real lives would lose everything, and all at once, and suffer the physical harms of deadly radioactive explosion. Robert Oppenheimer, the Manhattan Project, the desire to see the end-result of a Project–on the deaths of others’ bodies. Thoughtlessness. And the dropping of the Bomb itself, after the Japanese Emperor surrendered–I’m not seeing that in Wikipedia. But that was how it was, as reported in the encylopedia-style book I read in Connemara [Public Library in Egmore, Madras, the Octagonal one the British built, housing all their old papers and books–I’ll have to look to find the name.11:11 am/5/6/2025].It is 1:47 am. My ribs are still in pain. These men think they can behave like this, like slaveowners, beating or shooting their slaves to death. 1:47 am.
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Ramola D
Investigative Science and Technology, Features, Literary Journalist
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