Before I get started with femtocells and other ways to commit crimes and otherwise near-mortal sins against thy neighbors in the Christmas season, here’s a bit of “due diligence” in documenting, for the criminal court where those “property mobbing” me will be arraigned, how I spent this day of harassment. For I must ensure that the courts do not forget that every moment of every hour of every day is another for which the not-so-good neighbors of my northeast Seattle neighborhood have deigned that I should be harassed out of my home so that they profit while simultaneously assuaging their complete lack of humanity by victimizing another human being.
As I was saying, it was a fairly quiet day. As I noted a few weeks back, after new neighbors moved across from the mobbing house to my north a couple of weeks back, the mobbers became increasingly circumspect. Just now, for example, the new neighbors pulled into their driveway and my world has suddenly become about as quiet as it ever does these days. The caution the mobbers are showing as the new neighbors come and go, and even as they are home, makes it appear increasingly likely that radio signals are used to transmit some portion of the harassment. Why would that make them cautious? Likely because they have less control over who receives the radio signals than, for example, if they are “aiming” a directional speaker into my house. After all, everyone has tuners and speakers. And even aside from this new caution, today was quieter, meaning that the harassment was less aggressively pitched at me and there even seemed to be lots of moments when I heard nothing or the harassment was so faint that it was almost as though it ceased for brief periods of time. I’m not sure why this was the case, but there were a few interesting events in the last 24 hours.
First, yesterday morning I looked up the website of someone I knew at Berkeley who later became an investigative report for publications like the Los Angeles Times. I wrote him that I’d been living in a situation of criminal harassment for nearly two years, a situation that probably involves criminal real estate speculators or hired tenant clearers. I more or less pitched him a story on real estate mobbing. I haven’t heard back yet but my fingers are crossed.
It was probably a coincidence but, within minutes after I dispatched the email to this reporter, a guy in an SUV drove quickly away from the mobbing house on my south.
Later I went out to do errands. Again, it was probably a coincidence, but when I came back the likely “queen bee” of the mobbing, the girlfriend of the guy who owns the mobbing house to the south of me, together with another woman who looked as though she might be related, was moving what looked like at least a bedroom of furniture into a moving van. Since then, I’ve seen only the pal of the owner of that mobbing house, the one with the tribal tattoos. He’s the one who brings a kid with him during times when I hear a child’s voice participating in the harassment. He seems to be there most nights as of late (before him it was a young woman who would often come in right after me in a black Jetta—she seemed to have a strong presence during the early hoaxes of the mobbing), and there is a particular harassing voice and style I’ve come to associate with his presence. He’s one of a few staying at the mobbing house to the south who have Crossfit stickers on their vehicles. (Underemployment is a problem for trainers, is it not?)
The content of the harassment has settled into a certain pattern these days. No more wildly long stories and hoaxes, just insults (“You’re old and too bold!” “You’re fat, ugly and old!”), demands to “Move on!” and claims that they’ll find a way to make me move (“No matter how you scream and shout, we’re still going to get you out!”). All this malicious and felony harassment performed using criminal methods in voices that seem as childish as the taunts and the likely mindsets of those who would “mob.”
Have I mentioned that when I sit here and write, they sometimes go quiet, as though they’re “listening” to what I’m writing? I’m typing this into a web interface over HTTPS. There are frequent automated save operations that likely send the data out to WordPress web servers. I haven’t allowed this machine to “remember” my home wireless network and the wireless on my machine is in fact shut off right now, but the Century Link router includes Ethernet and wireless interfaces and I leave the wireless on these days for my roommate who, unlike me, has the luxury of not caring about security.
Enough already. I promise you, gentle reader, next up is the story of the femtocell and how one neighbor might use it to invade the privacy of the next. And perhaps Flying the friendly skies right after that, although perhaps Fear of flying would be more apropos given the possibility of hacking harassers contributing to radio interference, so long as we dispense with the “zipless fuck.”
Mobbing has none.