Fool me once—shame on you

Think about what it would be like to have criminals hosted in the houses to your north and to your south. To observe them monitoring and stalking you, not only outside the home you legally rent, but inside as well. What would it be like to watch them committing crime with the knowledge of those who captain your neighborhood watch. And to see the same neighborhood watch whose captains pretend to be so interested in keeping the neighborhood safe, instigate and openly support crime against residents they don’t like, including cybercrime, stalking, and monitoring. And to know that not only do these sick and malicious people illegally seek to hurt you in many ways, to serve their never-ending spite, but they do it to turn over homes that they do not own and to gentrify and profiteer from a Seattle neighborhood and make it evermore unaffordable to honest people.

Think about what it would be like to be sitting at your front windows, like I am, and to have criminals who want your home, relentlessly bullying  you inside your home by using the methods of shady private investigators—parabolic and parametric speakers—to create audible harassment on your window panes. How would it affect you to have to use sound board to sleep at night and to avoid listening to radio or TV because as soon as you turn either one on, the criminals around you use Citizens Band radio or software-defined radio to add a harassment track to the sound? What would it be like to live in this situation for years as you wait for an investigation into racketeering in your neighborhood?

This is what it’s like in this neighborhood over LakeWashington and the Burke-Gilman bike trail when you live across the street from a co-captain of a dysfunctional neighborhood watch in northeast Seattle.

Fool me once, shame on  you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

—Old English proverb

It’s nearing midnight on Friday night of Memorial Day weekend. The lights are dimmed in the house of the nasty neighborhood watch captain across the way but the real estate mobbers—tenant clears who are real estate speculators or work for them—who own and have been deployed to the houses around me throw their voices onto speaker after speaker, following me through this small older home as I put things away and prepare a late meal.

“Bot!” says the voice of the Asian guy whose red SUV is once again parked in the driveway. This guy has tribal tattoos and often comes here with a child of about 10 who either helps his father mob or whose voice is represented in the mobbing. I’ll bet the assumption is that it would be highly disturbing to an adult, especially an older woman, to be harassed and taunted by a child, or to be accused in the voice of a child:

“We heard what you said and saw what you did. And I’m just a kid.”

It’s not the first time I’ve heard that in the last twenty-four months. Clearly a statement uttered for those who would be manipulated by accusations of being a pedophile. And though I’ve just started to see what I can dig up, I suspect that this type of accusation, veiled or not, is stock-in-trade for the shady real estate speculators willing to harass legal residents out of their homes to make a buck.

“Kroll!” says the voice of another man who could be the owner of the north mobbing house.

The monosyllabic exclamations “Bot!” and “Kroll!” came out of likely hoaxes in the first year of the mobbing—the first from the hoax that a root kit, commonly called a “bot,” had been put on the computer I used to work at Microsoft; the second of an illegal investigation into my background (a “background check”) obtained from Kroll Corporation.

Both exclamations are uttered again and again in the mobbing, often tens of times daily, perhaps in an attempt to humiliate me for having been duped. These are examples of words given special meaning within the context of the mobbing, code that protects the mobbers from detection by virtue of being nonsensical utterances to all those around me who are not being mobbed. Like most of the words and phrases that are spoken to stress and remind me of moments in what is now two years of being stalked by scumbucket real estate criminals at the behest of my northeast Seattle neighborhood watch and some greedy speculators, Bot! and Kroll! are shorthand for “Get out.”

While this real estate mobbing thing has a decidedly white redneck feel, some Asian men seem to be involved, and I’ve seen a Latino here and there, one of them likely a private investigator who is counted among the Facebook friends of the owners of the mobbing house to the south.

One of the Asian men is the attorney friend of the owner of the south mobbing house. My understanding is that he’s already been called before the Washington State Bar Association for giving a false bar number to identify himself. This attorney, who has represented both the owner of the south mobbing house and the nasty neighborhood watch co-captain in court, also once said for my benefit as I stood on my deck, that he was “evicting a senior” and would “have [me] out tonight.”

I complained about it to the Washington State Bar  Association. The scumbucket attorney later used my letter of complaint as an exhibit to a legal document, claiming that I was harassing him. This was after the first year of mobbing when, wearied and worried by its viciousness and not yet having discovered soundboard, I attempted to get an order of protection against his client, the south mobbing house owner.

The attorney’s BMW has been in the driveway all weekend. Before the mobbing began, it was here more frequently, and I’ve also seen him at the house of the north mobbing owner, around the time when the mobbing began. He was here on numerous weekends early in the mobbing, one in particular being the weekend of a fake stakeout of of my home conducted from the mobbing houses on either side. He paraded about like a peacock, not at all shy about his involvement. But then he and the snarky bratpack mobbers like to parade around with shit-eating grins on their faces, kind of like they think they’re clever or getting away with something. Do rich kids who grow up to be white collar criminals (and not just that) piss you off? Turn them in. promises a $5,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of these racketeers and their real estate mobber bullying friends.

Anyway, back to the snarky attorney who will hopefully soon be disbarred. Later in the mobbing, someone who claimed to have his name and who sounded like him, performed lengthy and elaborate soliloquies on more than one occasion in the middle of the night, in judgment of me, the renter who was being vanquished. There was even a mock trial in there somewhere. I do recall that I was told I was represented by an attorney in the mobbing. So the snarky scumbucket is a civil attorney, one who has had a specialty in landlord-tenant law on the behalf of landlords, and one who now advertises a specialty in real estate law. Perhaps the “shadow service” the mobbers have bragged that they offer, is his.

Mobbers seem to like to use attorneys, invoking them by name or by title, in their attempt to intimidate legal residents from their homes. When the mobbers were still confident enough to claim to “be or represent” those whose names I knew, an attorney named Daria often appeared in the mobbing and they claimed, on more than one occasion, “We’re all attorneys here.” The mobbers reference the police for the same purpose, to scare you out of your legal home. Early on, they claimed that I was being investigated by a “detective” at Seattle’s North Precinct. A subsequent public disclosure showed there was no such investigation.

I’m pretty sure that the scumbucket and his friends rely too heavily on being protected from exposure based on the sneakiness of their crimes. Because they are convinced no one can prove the hacking, the monitoring, the stalking and the buffer overflow of felony crimes that is mobbing, they ignore the possibility of having such charges levied against them. It’s like O.J. Simpson all over again: “If the glove doesn’t fit, you must acquit.” Except that Johnny Cochran is probably a better person, and a better attorney, than the scumbags in my neighborhood. Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. Doctor, lawyer or Indian chief.



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