Let the punishment fit the crime: A crime of duration

Real estate mobbing is not an event, it is a crime of duration, in my case years. In this regard, it is more like being imprisoned or held hostage than being stalked or harassed. Because mobbing is tantamount to being held hostage within and without one’s own home, the prosecutor should look at the applicability of kidnapping law or the penalties relevant to home invasions in cases such as my own.

Black’s Law Dictionary (Black’s Law Dictionary Free Online Legal Dictionary 2nd Ed., http://thelawdictionary.org/hostage/) defines a hostage as “a person who is given into the possession of the enemy.” In my case, you could say that by stalking and monitoring, conceivably every moment of every day, the mobbers took physical “possession” of me, my life, and my world. The content of the harassment, in and of itself, shows this forced entry into my world, a characteristic of stalking; however, the unremitting drive to excise solitude and quiet from my life has more in common with the torture of the imprisoned. Since the mobbing began and probably before, I have been living in confinement.

This is not the kind of confinement that ends with the Seattle Police Department “bringing out the hostages.” The mobbers’ denial of my solitude is structured to convince me that their terms are inescapable. Their determination to create for me the compelling experience that there is no physical shelter in which I might escape their watch constructs me as hostage to a containment is not spatially bound. They take my time, they trifle with me, they attempt to distract me and interfere in my attempts to advance my life in any way possible. They exact their punishment in time.

Exposed and ever watched, I am captive to the time of the mobbers; their drive to impose their will upon me is an attempt to blot out my subjectivity, my selfhood. The time they force upon me is not the time to which each one of us is bound. There is no Deleuzean unification of time and space in a subjectivity that is mine alone, nor of the existential time of Camus or Sartre. Instead, I am “doing time,” denied even the encounter of the finity of my life and trapped within a sentence carved out of my lifetime and handed down by a kangaroo court, meted out by those who hide behind the stupified gaze of some mob that has nothing to do with social contract or civil law. I live the mobbing as though in Satre’s No Exit, with the hell of “other people” already at hand, forced upon me in an act that is neither of God nor of chance.

This confinement outside the laws of civil society must end with the apprehension of the mobbers who so brazenly assault me, a legal resident they have effectively held hostage for years, claiming that they have “triangulated” me and that I have no choice but to submit to their demands that I leave my home and “shut the fuck up.” The use of the word “triangulate,” a radio term, is interesting in its application given the likely conveyance of much of the harassment by one type of radio or another. It also seems a reference to the configuration of the houses around me whose participation has been pivotal to the mobbing and whose owners have likely expected to subsume this property into their own after forcing its sale.

These criminal profiteers and their miscreant cadre of tenant clearers, some of them scarcely more than kids, must be arrested to ensure that others do not experience what I have endured. The investigation should be made soon since these days the mobbers complain that they have “mobbed” me and demand, therefore, that I “get out.” The statement, though an indication of a potentially dangerous situation, is as ridiculous as the mobbers’ attempt to harass a legal resident from her home. At once they admit the failure of a crime of years’ duration and yet they continue to demand success from their victim. We’re done! Now go! Get out! Sometimes they even say “Please leave.” This request may have its origins from early in the mobbing when I amused myself in my captivity by “mobbing the mobber”—ridiculing them with statements including the offering that if they asked nicely, I might consider the request. An underlying reason for engaging with the harassers in this manner was my need to blunt a fact difficult for me to accept, that a group of human beings had joined together to commit a crime against me, another human being, without regard for the laws of our society, or for my emotional, mental, and physical health outside of any liability they might incur if exposed. It was months before I could work through the horror of this object lesson in malevolence and accept the Dasein—the there-being—of being victim to a predatory crime.

But one good mobbing deserves another. I have mobbed the mobbers with about as much determination as any victim could. Now it is the turn of the police authorities, the FBI, the City of Seattle and other governmental agencies who should be outraged by this pogrom of one. Any “mobbing” that is as practiced as this one, any “mobbing” of a legal resident in an area developers are tearing down and rebuilding and whose players include developers and real estate agents as well as a malicious neighborhood watch, cannot be the only mobbing that has ever occurred or that will occur if those who conspired to commit the crime are not forced from the mobbing houses and appropriately charged. The owners of what I call “the mobbing houses” have either retained experienced harassers who use “mobbing” to clear tenants or they are real estate speculators who use criminal techniques to clear and acquire property and they do this by gaining access to houses within proximity of the property they want to acquire. The police investigation of  the mobbers who surround me is required to set me free, to restore me as a free citizen of a civil society, and to discourage further criminal acts against me that may be intended to finally shut me up.

Black’s Law Dictionary describes the state of being a hostage as a contract for performance by which the life of the hostage is held as collateral. In my case, while the mobbers early on assured me they would continue to monitor me even after I abandoned my home, it seems more likely that they would not want the risk, and there would be little reason to take the risk of further criminal acts if they achieved their goal of forcing me from my home. Having weighed the mobbing doubletalk against the reasonable risks a ring of criminal real estate speculators or tenant clearers would likely take, I believe the price of any meaningful restoration of my privacy is leaving my home, something that I cannot do.

Faithful City of Seattle, you owe it to me and to all legal residents of Seattle to restore my life to the extent it can be restored after such a crime, and to bring these people to justice to protect me from further violence from them and to protect the good people who reside in this and all good cities in the United States from like criminals and crimes. And if the good City of Seattle cannot step in, the FBI and other federal investigative agencies should. As other posts here show, there have been ample triggers for FBI involvement over the course of the mobbing.

The next post in this series will be An incalculable invasion of privacy. Stay tuned.

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