The Philosophy Now Forum

Notice to my students and stalkers. If i suddenly go quiet, it's not because i went off the chain renegade felon on the run and needed to cut all communications. It's because i couldn't afford minutes for my phone, and i refuse to use a wifi connection because that would let the hacker(s) into my phone.

So don't start calling the cops and getting into your little PM gossip groups. Just chill, and I'll be back after i pawn some shit.

Having resigned to my fate as a socially stigmatized unemployable, i put some John Denver on and find myself flipping through old pictures of things i built... and i get a little hot behind the eyes, ya know? The sound of the compressor, the fresh smell of cut lumber, the buzz of the saw. These memories are things they can not take from me.

I got to do what i love. I got to build shit, goddamn you... if only for a moment!

EPIC prom-casts! This time I went berserk... but then quickly brought myself back and remembered to keep my patience. How much opportunity for revenge might be lost in a single instance of losing control?

mkay so the stalker/vandal(s) i have mentioned before are back. It's difficult to determine their movement patterns because the vandalism and gaslighting is infrequent enough to suggest they aren't staying 'in town' for long each time... or... they are here somewhat permanently but don't vandalize and gaslight all the time. Or, they are here more often only i don't count the strange little things (over turned natural area border stones, broken off branches in the front yard that animals couldn't have broken, etc) as events. One thing is certain. It takes some commitment because there's nowhere to park for a quarter mile that wouldn't risk a cop checking your car out in the wee hours of the morning... so on foot you're doing a lot of walking. Or, two or more people... one drives, drops off, kills ten minutes time somewhere, picks them back up, etc.

My trek has been a big thing recently. Back deck, cable locked to the handrail. Keep it covered with a tarp... and i tie the tarp such that nothing short of hurricane winds would take it off the bike (you can trust my competence here i can build a house). But i keep finding it meticulously uncovered. In the last week, i a) found it uncovered with the front wheel turned a complete 180 and then leaned perfectly back against the rail, and b) found the tarp splayed out over the table (like someone letting it dry or like the bike was a gift and someone had carefully peeled away the wrapping) and the bike leaned over and hanging by the cable to its side. There has never and unlikely will never be a wind strong enough to move that bike around like that. Also, no one thief would keep returning to the same bike if he knew it was locked. Also, the chances of several thieves coming to try and steal the same bike are very low.

Two possible but more unlikely suspects.

1. The old pot dealer of mine or his circle of people that found out somehow about me being an SO - likely a gossip subject after the guy i was doing work for looked me up and told somebody.

2. A close neighbor that just keeps f****** with me.

3. The owner of the shop that fucked me and saw my bad review on maps. He takes his revenge (i get fucked again).

I say these are unlikely because the ongoing obsessive nature of the stalking (combined with the prank calling, hacking, and the ads) suggests that it's someone with a vendetta more severe than anyone would have for a small time sex offender or leaver of bad reviews. Naw... this is someone who got hurt. If there were ever a time to use the party favorite "who hurt you," now would be it.

In conclusion, I've simply given up and left the bike hanging. In fact, I've prepared myself mentally for accepting the possibility that i could lose more (or even everything) and not be able to do anything and prevent it. If i moved, I'd simply be followed (because I'd have to report publicly an address). I began this mental conditioning when i lost the (what will be) $6,000-something on the trans incident (i had no legal options and couldn't risk losing and paying civil court fees, anyway). I suddenly and all at once realized i am going nowhere, will go nowhere, unless i can sell this house. I've given up on the truck, on work, on trying to find my own place, etc. My ticket is getting a little from the house sale and using it to GTFO.

Note also the beauty of this. Nobody believes me; they think I'm making this up to have a reason to object and make a fuss about the SO registry. The boy who cried wolf... but actually got eaten by one because nobody believed him and thought he was just a crazy child molestor, lol. Oh, it's gorgeous irony. i love it.

When you're fucked with so much you can't write it down fast enough:
https://voca.ro/19vVgpbq68eD

Lol holy shit eat my shortz, bitches:
https://voca.ro/15oFfe5tYota

The sudden burst of rage immediately after discovering the bike this morning:
https://voca.ro/17k8wndFHnpy

Ah... how do i recover from this state? How did somebody not get murdered just then? Not the cat lady, obviously she's not to do with this stuff. First, it's just a therapeutic catharsis. Sure, psychologists say it's a red flag and would love to seize the opportunity to call it first. But. They got nothing that'll stand up to a jury's insistence that I'm just a really smart asshole ranting about personal problems whose hurt nobody.

But here's how i do it. I give up. They can have it. I mean i have given up my things, my possessions. If i can neither acquire nor secure any possessions with confidence that they are not tampered with or destroyed, i will adopt a hunter-gatherer lifestyle. Shit I'm already halfway there anyway. I've had two jobs in like three months. The only thing I've yet to do is hunt or gather. Otherwise, I'm like a homeless vagrant who talks to nobody but himself and an occasional customer if he does manage to get a job that he doesn't have to turn down for legal reasons or for not having the required work vehical for the field.

These particular prom-casts are substantial, so we will keep a permanent copy of them in our files and advise PN to do so as well for posterity. I am sending the POleece copies of these audios, too. These are the real audience. You guys are just tourists.

That's gotta be it. What propels the schizo further and further into his paranoid delusions. Providing, of course, that nothing's actually happened to em. I'm not this type of schizo (I've got physical evidence of being fucked with) but i do share this thing, I'm certain... something you don't realize until you realize it. Once and if you are sure or feel sure, at least (in the case of the schizo we're talking about), that you are being fucked with, you don't know how much of the weird shit experienced daily is random and unrelated and how much might be someone f****** with you. In the schizo's head, it seems reasonable to suspect x, y, and z weren't just random oddities unrelated. Say, some major synchronicity of things. As the schizo deliberates on it, it indulges his paranoid fantasies, and, in turn, in these fantasies, the things are made to make sense and have a place. It's like a feedback loop that makes the dude crazier and crazier.

Here's an example. Dude who was around back in the early 2000s. Either he posted it, or somebody posted about him at ILP... a link to a site with a detailed story about being gaslit by the government and psychologically tormented and all kinds of shit. Guy by the name of geral sosbee. If this guy isn't for real, he's the type we're talking about. Something is moved in his apartment... he thinks the FBI broke in and are f****** with his sense of reality... but, in fact, he moved the chair two days and forgot he did. Something like that.

Sort of paradoxically the fact that i AM being fucked with and not just imagining it means i can't be a real paranoid schizo... but i am indistinguishable from one in praxis. Ain't that some shit? Hence, the genuine nature of my mad genius, the genuine article. It is the lone promethean struggle against the brutal transpsychological torment of the gods that ordinary men can not experience. Hannibal Lecter level shit. The ultra-sociopath. To watch your own sister get eaten by starving communists and then thirty years later, some asshole says something rude to the lady clerk in the fine arts shop you so love, so you purchase a vintage maroon chair, murder him and pose his corpse in it in front of the store. That's what i mean. When there is a pathos of distance so great between men that one can only trivialize the other and treat him as insignificant material that either offends, bores, or is useless clutter.

There is nothing worse (or more awesome) than a nihilist with PTSD and an IQ of 170.

"Due to lawsuits, SO registrants in California who are not on parole or probation are no longer required to post a sign on the front door of their residence on Halloween."

What about drug dealers/users, thieves, assaulters, fraudsters, DUIers, convicted gang members, murderers, etc? Did they get to take their signs down, too? Oh, that's right... they didn't have to post signs... even though these unsavory people are just as likely or more to offend you and/or be a danger to you.

Go California! The reason why Cali is so relaxed on the SOs is because it's such a perverted cesspool of shit anyway that a few sex offenders is hardly anything to be flustered about.

Wait a minute, i see. It's a context thing. An SO's opportunities are increased on Halloween night. It wouldn't be the little kids 'cause they'll be with the parents. Wouldn't be a single adolescent kid either because nobody goes trick or treating alone. You just don't... it's no fun. So, what we'll have is an SO will answer the door, and if he's found 2-3 costumed hotties there he'll invite them in to see his Taylor Swift memorabilia collection and then force them at gun point to tie each other up. That's the only way it could be done. He would have had his contacts in so not to have to wear his super-thick prescription glasses that magnify his eyes and make him look creepy af to the childrens.

The other criminal types mentioned don't have any opportunity here to commit their crimes.

Wait wait wait hold on. Should DUIers be forced to put a sign on their car when they drive, thieves a sign whenever they enter a store, fraudsters a sign whenever they sign a contract, assaulters, murderers and gang members whenever it's night time, and Muslims whenever within 100 feet if a synagogue?

The thing just keeps getting dumber and dumber and dumber. I am what happens when you pass ridiculous laws you won't find out won't work until years later when it's too late to undo the mess you made and now you are suffering it.

Shame I couldn't have a better fate than domestic terrorist. I would have liked to have a little cottage and a garden that I could tend to in my old age. Instead I'm gonna be rigging explosives, setting traps, sabotaging equipment, all that shit.

You know I've always wondered about that. How the tie-up works. Two points of concern: what if they tie a loose knot on purpose so sister/dad/mom whoever can wiggle out of it? Or what if they don't know how to tie a knot at all? You gonna give em a Twenty Basic Knots book to read first?

Obviously, you'd have to check the knots... but then this is risky. Let's play it out. You've got the gun pointed at A while you're checking the ties on B. But A's knot is not only not a knot but it's so fucked up you gotta retie it. How do you do that with a gun in one hand?

Can you even imagine what a pontz Raider looked like tryna get a whole family tied up? If you aks me, Joe DeAngelo was the Leonardo DaVinci of home-invasion serial rape. This master would tie the gentleman husband up, lie him on the bed, and set a tea cup and dish on his chest. He would then inform the gentleman as he and the Mrs. left the bedroom that if he heard the sound of dishes rattling, he would do terrible terrible things. Is that not the most innovative thing you have ever heard?

My only beef with Joe is his accent. If the state of Kentucky had an accent, it would be Joe's. Oddly enough, though, Joe's from New York and he operated in California, so should have no such accent.

Well, he called one of his homegirls one time and did his creepy thing where he breathed all in the phone, and then he said... and i quote, "I'm gawna keeel yuuuw". I shrieked in horror and dropped my tablet. It sounded like a line right out of Deliverance. That was a real turnoff. Here was this urban night stalking Ninja with like fifty victims (guys a fuckin' legend) who had the voice of a gas station clerk in Kentucky.

"You can never tell who is a bot, informant, foreign spy, paid political propagandist, idiotic halfwit, or just plain mentally ill around here. It’s a shot in the dark really. Basically, it is a remnant of the early internet before popular social media websites became a thing." - Mr. Authoritarian, resident Marxist proletarian dictator.

This is a very fair assessment. It should also be pointed out that because of the social media boom, those freaks that would have ended up on a philosophy forum (like back around 2000) instead end up on Facebook, Instagram and TikTok while the aging forum posters from the school of 2000, now solitary failures living out the rest of their desolate lives, are still hanging out on the forums. Many, if not all, will have the same arguments a hundred times over during this twenty-year tenure... during which they will win nothing, learn nothing, teach nothing, and end up only with a bad case of carpel tunnel, minor schizophrenia, and a handful of mortal forum enemies.

Now i want you all to look at yourselves. Hey... you... come back here and sit tf down. You all better aks yourselves if this is how you wanna go... if this is what you want your legacy to be. What if you f*** your karma up and are reborn in a virtual reality matrix of infinite forum trolls eternally arguing? You need to slow your roll, PN, and think about your future.

It's the little underhanded shit they do. Velo will produce a batch of pouches that have less milligrams of the nicotine powder than they are supposed to have and slip that batch into a random gas station order. They know no customer is going to weigh the f****** pouch to see if the advertised milligram amount is being met and sue them for false advertisement if it ain't. The customer is gonna just shake his head and shrug it off.

I wonder how they do it. When, i mean. To cut production costs, certainly... but does a dude just turn a dial so 400,000 pouches are underfilled? How does it work, exactly?

This is what i mean. A parasite that isn't strong enough to reveal its true nature, so it makes its gains by slowly nickle and diming you and cheating you where it can.

A capitalist can not become wealthy without a mass of workers and consumers to exploit... so they can only thrive where there are large groups. This is the Cheat's ESS problem; it slowly pushes its host to reject it once its parasitic presence becomes unbearable.