“On being mobbed” is written to document the many unethical and illegal acts in the “mobbing” of a Seattle tenant. She became aware of the mobbing in May of 2014 and has refused to be harassed out of her home. Because of the duration of this illegal effort and the day-in and day-out cycles of hoaxes, threats, insults and so on, it is difficult to apply a strict calendar to events. These blog entries are written thematically with the goal of inviting a criminal investigation that would expose the mobbers, end the mobbing and, hopefully, discourage this type of predatory behavior in the future.
In early to “mid-mob” as I will call it (mobbing is apparently a process), those holing up in neighboring houses in their attempt to harass me out of my home established a pattern of keeping me awake in the middle of the night. They would tell me stories—lurid, fantastic, and sad—about my life, about my family, about my relationships. They claimed to have talked to all of my lovers, they claimed to have all of the email I ever wrote, they claimed to have spoken to people I used to know about me. They even claimed to be people from my past (I remember a “This is your life” segment).
They went on at length spinning stories about my life, including details that seemed to indicate a prolonged violation of privacy, the probable involvement of private investigators dispatched even to places of my childhood, my adolescence, and my early adulthood. They claimed to know things that they shouldn’t, including my health history, tragedies in my life, and my family history. The obvious fabrications were many and the threats to disperse the stories over the Internet or in email to coworkers and family were a constant theme, one that was likely intended to compel me to abandon my legal home lest I see information that I did not want known released into the public arena. I remember again and again their saying, once even outside in the street, that they were going to “kill” me…. It was months before I realized that a “killing” was a threat of Internet defamation and eventually they began to qualify the threat of “kill” by adding “on the Internet,” probably because I began reporting as soon as the mobbing opened.
It was during this time that one of them claimed to be a roommate of mine from some 20 years earlier. The implication was that she was the lead mobber—my “main mobber”—and had been instrumental in the mobbing to take her revenge on me. Unfortunately, the mobbers had got it wrong. If I were so inclined, it would likely have been me who wanted to get back at her. In truth, she had seemed pretty troubled when I lived with her and I hadn’t thought of her much since. What angered me from the start was this illegal invasion of privacy and the appropriation of a private life—mine—in the commission of a crime.
The vast invasion of privacy that mobbing is and its harnessing of the private as a force to manipulate and control is deeply disturbing. It reminds me of McCarthyism, and of the danger of possessing secrets. I can hardly imagine why one human being would violate another in such a manner. Privacy is arguably a human right.
It was during this time of the voices harassing in the night from behind neighboring walls, that they spun wild story after story that they seemed to expect to somehow floor me into submission. One night, a long and wild story rose to a crescendo before the mobber’s triumphant and vengeful declaration that she was in fact my old roommate.
This was one of the times during these seventeen months of being continuously assaulted with harassment in my bed, in the bathroom, at work and at home, that I burst out laughing at the near adolescent line of thinking that seemed to underlie the felony crimes that mobbing seems to include.
I told the mobbers I intended to locate my old roommate and tell her that she was being impersonated by professional harassers in the course of committing a crime. These impersonations also seemed to include digital filters that do seem to be technically possible to create based on samples of others’ voices, whether knowing or unaware, and the mobbers did seem to attempt to represent many voices in my life early on as they seemed to attempt to simulate the angry mob that sought to cast me out of community. But those voices diminished after the first months when I openly told the mobbers as they monitored me in my home that I intended to tell people their voices were being illegally used.
I have story after story of the things I have had to listen to in the past seventeen months. This has been the price of keeping my home. This is the price of standing up to a criminal bullying situation when I have no assurance of the outcome.
In these months I spent more time talking to the mobbers than I would ever do now. I figured they’d get tired of it and go away. I figured if they were going to fuck with me, I’d fuck with them too. “Mob the mobbers!” I would tell them. And I lay in bed and listened to the ridiculous things they said.
During one of these nights as I lay captive to the pranks, ridicule, taunts and insults of the mobbers, I teased them with a children’s song that I could barely remember.
Little Rabbit Foo Foo
Running through the forest
Scooping up the field mice
And bopping them on the head!
Down came the Good Fairy, and she said:
“Little Rabbit Foo Foo
I don’t wanna see you
Scooping up the field mice
And bashing them on the head!
I will give you three chances,
And if you don’t behave, I will turn you into a Goon!”
It was a song I’d learned at girl scout camp one summer somewhere in Northern California around the time of my adolescence.
I teased the mobbers that I might consider moving if only they would tell me the lyrics of the the Little Rabbit Foo Foo song. I didn’t really recall what it was about and had no idea why it came to mind, except for the deliberately childish characters that some of the mobbers seemed to adopt. I later concluded that the childish voices, as well as representing the children in a community, might be a deliberate way to harass while discouraging reporting by moderating the victim’s fear.
Lo and behold, Little Rabbit Foo Foo was a big bully. The song of Rabbit Foo Foo tells the story of how the Good Fairy warns the Little Rabbit away from bopping the field mice on the head. In her goodness, she offers the misbehaving bunny three chances, but that is all the forbearance she has for bullying bunnies. If the Little Rabbit continues to scoop up the field mice and bop them on the head, well, the Good Fairy vows to turn him into a “goon.”
The moral of the story in this song that children sing is “Hare today, goon tomorrow.”
And that is the end of bullies.