Part 1
Visiting Faro was another brain fuck of a mellow sad kind. Now I did know what saudade could mean. Friendly talks with a gay hostel owner about the 1974 military coup and visiting an eighties style band jam session open air turned out to an eviction from that hostel for not being appropriate to a behaviour code edited by a suede denim police force. I did not know that police force but it is endemic in Portugal and punishes you for not being what they think you should be: mental look-alikes of them: the Israeli border patrol maybe.
And just believing that it is nice and that you feel good to live within old buildings in Faro and that the 1974 military coup was not bad at all by overthrowing Salazar and visiting an open air session with people of the old left communard scene was a thrilling experience made me an unwanted person in Faro by rule of the AOI police force of that town. That was so easy I could not understand. I does not count that I was polite to the gay man and talk to him as if he is not trying to go down on you and jerk off every three minutes by just imagining that you are there and maybe like gays. Not at all, I could as well have shitted on his rug, killed his dog (but would have to pay for a new one) and farted when his father was painting the frames on the terasse – that would have been no hindrance for a prolonged stay at all.
It was just that I had not understood that civil society based on and placed in a European culture older than the Middle Ages has vanished all the way since about ten years and was replaced by a silent, creeping dictatorship with silent but ultra-effective rules and regulations that were toldto nobody but passed on by some imbecile priesthood. It did not make any sense to my and still does not. It lacks any real communication so how do people comunicate? By inflicting punishments without talking on other for not following unknown rules. Uhh, man that can only be the Extraterrestrials I thought. Have the AOI Annunaki finally come to power and try to convince us of a higher civilization they are implementing?
Nevertheless: I stayed friendly but reserved with the gay owner and had a long culture chat with him while his father was there, I did say it was good to kick out Salazar by force and that I liked the old fashioned architecture way of the town. „But we in Portugal were not that bad, Salazar was not that bad“ he said and I forgot to tell him about the Beans Tras os Montes Kick off Meeting with the AOI in the early seventies and let that pass. I could not believe the mediocrity and squareheaded attitude of theat gay midget. I felt like I had eaten a foul egg for breakfast tried to piss in one of his pot plants near his old father painting some window frames to expresse my attitude. I had qualified for the jerkoff in his universe of gay slickness and he knew I didn't give a shit. But wait, that made him get started and the he remembered that I stayed out with wooooooomen of the old left scene in Faro with jaaazz muuusiiic.
Thus I qualified for ongoing harassement and medivial mental torture of myself by the AOI for the whole stay in Portugal and Spain. But at that time in Faro I was just unpleasantly surprised about what happened the next morning after the nice talk and concert:
„I haaaave to taaaaaaaaaallk to you“ he said in a bleak tone while all other guests were watching and he placed himself behind his small office desk, making him look like a midget who was offeen that some non-gayinvaded his little boyscout camp. I expected he would offer me a blow job for ten Euros but they just dumped my travel bag on the floor and had no more room for me. „Weee aaare booooked oooouuut nooowww – sooorrryyy“. All the nice guest around him looked as if did not get bit up on him last night and I had raped his old father instaed after pissing nea his wooden frames he was painting. It did not cross my mind that this was just the overture for a AOI Annunaki harassement program of a new quality and strength. I missed the new Kick Off meeting of the AOI – that is what I cared about and made the fuck out o there – without farting inside his premises, he was not worth it.
The problem is, that the Portugese bore me to death despite their bleakness and depressed-vicious attitude, reagarded as a unique signe of a high culture. But then they turn into a murderous alien race totally unexpected. Hat is the diference with the Portugese or the Portugaller, to imitate the Spanish across the border who hate them. They go well along those AOI agents especially from Germany who pose around efficiently with their self made trailers and campers in the midst of radio transmitters broadcastíng the AOI mindcontrol program by air to spread mental disease and cancer until everybody is only able to think about the things around him and nothing else. It is always the same in Portugal: people like them get spotted, encircled and then mobbed and harassed, an maybe murdered by a small mob later who is jerking off to pictures of Salazar eating fresh baby legs in vinegar with his wife.
But the Portugese have another unique attitude: the indiscriminate support for anybody they feel is superior to support him with the worst treatment and torture for others. Not only slaughtering fat children for Beans Os tras Montes with Salazars goons but for example allowing the German AOI Nazis to sneak little programs on USB sticks and harddrives by sattelite that manipulate the electric systems of the nearer environment and whole nations. Mothers, do not hesitate: when your baby is dying from unknown electric pollution: call the German AOI and ask them why they torture you and your child to death: it is German technology sneaked on your USB sticks and harddrives, determing your position and manipulating all electricity aroud nyou to hatm you and all people living around you. That is German Nazi AOI technology.
Former natural beach resort Monte Gordo with a many mile long long natural beach and the forests around it:
„Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz“ the moskitos started their attacks arounde 8 pm, it was rattling in the dry leaves, the ants increased their speed to the double and looked as somebody has injected speed into them, they build roads and small towers around me within minutes, „Brrrrrroooooaaaar, Bsssssssss, Broarrrrrrr“ it was hissing in my ears and my face began to swell slowly at the same time: that was the AOI disguised as Portugese police and their Merkel towers unmistakingly making it clear to me that it was no coincidence this forest was dead, dead means no mammal lived there because only the insects were allowed by the Annunaki outside the small paystrip in the middle of the beach and around the beach huts.
But that was disturbingly and fatiguingly mediocre to the usual extent, because nothing was happening at all, because everybody seemed to like it so I went to the roots of that all and decided to talk to the one person I met in months doing something artistic. An older Dutch doing paintings in some beach hut restaurants on the veranda. I told him that I was writing, in a rare move of myself to express the urge of humans relating to each other when there was something like the same aura around it, art for example. I thought. What was obvious since I sat there with my notebook and that I appreciated his existence as the only artist in the whole Spanish peninsular maybe for some reason. I was reported by him to the police later for being an unknown writer who desired to be watched because maybe I am a shady figure. That is what I got for it since I told him, that they told me., that I would belong to the „old people here from before“.
When I went to the public swimming pool a day later they asked for my ID and called the police to go through my things when I was in the pool. „wow“, I thought, „time to leave“ That was the only real human communication except ordering drinks or food in months with that Dutch asshole painting the fucking beach and boats. So I knew the AOI was on the move and after two nights with temperatures around 2-5 degrees celsius in may in the Algarve I knew somebody was angry at the human race I knew before and me. Dead pigeons were lying around after the blizzard attack in the morning walking around who refused to talk about what happened last night. My fingers were blue as my nose, I met half frozen people, mostly gypsies around who The AOI Annunaki were angry that we did not turn into insects I guess. The Dutch draftman artist was paintings sailing boats again. I watched him sitting there on the veranda when about 20 French jews arrived in the beach hut smiling and shouting. „Finally you have found your place“ he told me when I was standing outside the beachhut ready to leave.
Moving up the famous Fishermen Trail I passed the occult dog worship town of Aljezur, where AOI female agents with rectangular haircuts and glasses walk three or four or five dogs at the the same time also outside town in the flush green nature ways of Aljezur with their friends who worship the dogs faeces and the continous barking of that creatures. I asked them, why I hear barking and why I see dog shit everywhere for miles here and they just said: „we are from the shelter“. „You mean the rehabilitation facility for the mentally depraved and their animal trainers?“ He stared at me and just said „it is all good here in Aljezur, because we have a dog shelter“
They have a dog temple in disguise in that town that is displaying a Horus eye near the bus station where they keep hundreds of that animals a little bit outside of that town and a public swimming pool that no traveller should dare to visit although it was paid for by the European Union and its taxpayers. You can#T get in, believe me,they make that happen for you. Now I know the inner meaning of the stanaic grin I got, when I asked a farmer for the way to the public swiming pool of Aljezur.
„One ticket please“ „I have to check your bag if you have the right swimming equipement with you“ „No you do not have to check that, I just want to shower and have a swim here, this is a public pool paid by us taxpayers, right?“ „You need to present swim shoes, a new pair of bathing trousers and a bathing cap and bathing glasses“ „No I do not have to present that, I just want to get in“ „I am AOI, I am AOI, we are ready now we are ready now or you go to tow and buy everything new“ he shrieked. „Ok, then I just go in for a shower, I do not swim then“. He stared at me in utter disgust and disbelief. „Whaaat? Nooo I can’t do that I can’t do that! Impossible Impossible“
I went away, cursed him to such an extent that he shriekd in agony like an insect whose legs had been removed by sadistic 12 year old boys, letting the spider to rot and leaving him in agony and watched through the huge windows on the elegant swimming pool with racing tracks for about 500 people: Nobody was swimming there on that hot day. It was completely empty.
The police followed me in a Land Rover with four officers sitting inside all around town after that and was passing by every 10 minutes when I was waiting for bus out under the Horus eye in the centre. I felt like in a colonial movie, but I could not determine the geolocation.
I decided to not wash at all for ten days after that to give the Portugese another aspect scent of myself. The garlic for that I ate raw and fresh every day. They did not even dared to ask me for a ticket in trains or money after this. I was sitting in busses and trains and even restaurants without paying and they did not even ask me for it and remained friendly and kept away. I walked into fancy fish restaurants after ten days without any washing myself anywhere with dirt stained clothes and was served food without any demand of payment with an absolutely friendly attitude. Meanwhoile I was writing articles in the resaurants. Then I showered and cleaned everything and it was back to point zero again, as if nothing has happened. If you have to be with occultists and black magicians as the Portugese, you have to give them a sign, a little symbol or hint that you may also be from the abyss if they want you that way..
So I checked in in Lisboa, the capitol of that darkgrey and sinistre stripe of land in disguise with brushed teeth, clean clothes and shining and brushed heini and dick and was surprised about their fancy shopping malls around the railway station and everywhere, replacing the old village like shops and restaurants. At least nobody tried to throw dogshit at me here and denied me a bath later. But they had huge malls and shopping complexes everywhere where they seemed to live, the Portugese youth. But at least they have one, a young generation, they did not stop procreating despite their dull and saudade vibe. The women were kind of non-existent but they produced children, that was marvellous. Sex was not in the public ind at all in Portugal, much less than in Spain or Italy, not to speak of France, but they had a teenager generation doing it everywhere among themselves.
A real Movida was roaming around there with loads of young girls and their boyfriends shopping in chain stores and I was displaying my best mood when asking for the connection to the famous camping ground of Lisboa where we were hanging around thirty years ago or even twenty years ago with campers and long hair , short hair and joints and a lot of visions of a better life.
The butcher realities of live followed all of us after that, mostly unseen and rarely felt during our lives wherever we went – because we have been watched since they were there. Our vibration was the natural enemy of the AOI and it went through and they did not stop eradicating it until the last Mensa of Germany was free of any political, social and cultural agenda except that of the AOI.
There is a special magic when I am travelling and arrive at a new town or vilage or bus station: they play along with me, the gods and ghosts and spirits of the safe journey are all around them and they can not disbehave as they would like to do – that changes when the spirits dissolve and go away, when I become a „stayer“ a resident the day after the next day, just a person who has decided to stay there for a while. Then the jerks in shops, cafes and restaurants behave different. They do not turn to enemies but the magic of the contact has gone, I am not a mysterious wanderer anymore, they piss around.
I made a little sacrifice with what I had for the god of the ocean once when I was in Norway on an island that was known for being the gods home once and Njoerd’s especially and it has created exactly that vibe: I was welcome everywhere in Norway and that remained, it stayed until we left weeks later without any problem at all. We had not one day of rain in weeks in Norway and although the car had a axle damage all the time it never stopped running like new off road vehicle on the smallest tracks and dirt roads.
The Lisboa camping was also nice, as I knew it fom the eighties. I was camping in the woods nearby because I did not want to disturb the AOI agents at the camping ground and the Verfassungsschutz from Hannover with their extra long hair who already stared at me with insect like dead killer eyes and went to the camping only to eat and write in there old fashioned camping ground cantina. That was possible, I asked them politely and under the thousand electronic eyes I walked in and seated myself in the restaurant to have breakfast. That worked out even when I plugged in my notebook to write, I thought, an action that is nowhere to be seen in Southern Europe and France these days, you will be reported immediately to police ans AOI for further action. They even rip your plug out of the wall in Galicia for being a writer not registered with the fascist or regionalist or gang or however they call that turd somebody has created for them – something phony to believe in in a shallow attempt to copy the real things we did before.
But a camping is a camping, many independent people around, many freaks and individualists I thought and how I remembered it . A Camping was always a break from the common mans live even when the common man tried to imitate his common man live in the camping ground to such an extent that it was not even ridicoulos anymore: they rebuild even their wooden fence from home on the camping. And today they rebuild the harassement and the electronic surveilance and the snitching on the camping ground so you can not miss home. “No blody difference from home Janie, I got three complaints with the local police for pissing in the neighbors garden. It was all on tape, and my dick was cut out.”
So it worked well in the beginning, I took my breakfast there and wrote when I was approached by the first AOI agent: a long haired German freak obviously working for the AOI.
I went back to the forests around that part of Lisboa where the poorest of the poor live in housing complexes and the communist party of the old time has still its strongholds. Some houses are empty, others are closed with boards nailed into the walls and the police is constantly driving around the blocks, flashing blue lights without any reasons and shouting „Salve Salazar“ while looking like the black guy from A-Team with a futuristic Mad Max haircut.
I had a good spot there in the woods with a view and just went into my sleeping bag when the summing, buzzing and hissing began. „Bzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzzz“ in my ears and then in my skull. My cheeks began to react and tensions arose inside, I got rash symptomes and stood up. It was impossible to stay, that little piece of shit had called his AOI officers and they had called the police here. I packed my shit together and hid it in a hollow tree and walked some kilometres to the camping ground. The hiss, summing and buzzing intensified. I stood outside the fence and watched the cell phone towers nearby and could really feel the evil vibration from them oozing about the landscape and the epicentre was the camping ground. Campers and cars were waiting at the gate to escape the AOI attack and drive away.
A young family with their crying baby was standing at the gate and were waiting for an escape. She had the baby in her arm but it could not be calmed. I could not be calmed, it was so horrible as if they tried to reenact the Iraqui war in the desert where they destroyed the Iraqui army by electronic attacks like this. I ran back to the street and jumped into the next bus passing by and stepped out after five kilometers. It was absolutely silent. No hissing, no buzzing to be heard, it felt like the old southern Europe again, there was a little glimpse of the magic of a night in the south without noises created in your skull and ears by electronic disturbance. They have even crossed that border and destroyed the inner peace of all humans. There will be children in the future who have never ever experienced an inner silence at all. Even in their mothers womb they hear that disgusting hissing and buzzing of the AOI.
Copyright 2019 by Ronald C. Kaiser
Visiting Faro was another brain fuck of a mellow sad kind. Now I did know what saudade could mean. Friendly talks with a gay hostel owner about the 1974 military coup and visiting an eighties style band jam session open air turned out to an eviction from that hostel for not being appropriate to a behaviour code edited by a suede denim police force. I did not know that police force but it is endemic in Portugal and punishes you for not being what they think you should be: mental look-alikes of them: the Israeli border patrol maybe.
And just believing that it is nice and that you feel good to live within old buildings in Faro and that the 1974 military coup was not bad at all by overthrowing Salazar and visiting an open air session with people of the old left communard scene was a thrilling experience made me an unwanted person in Faro by rule of the AOI police force of that town. That was so easy I could not understand. I does not count that I was polite to the gay man and talk to him as if he is not trying to go down on you and jerk off every three minutes by just imagining that you are there and maybe like gays. Not at all, I could as well have shitted on his rug, killed his dog (but would have to pay for a new one) and farted when his father was painting the frames on the terasse – that would have been no hindrance for a prolonged stay at all.
It was just that I had not understood that civil society based on and placed in a European culture older than the Middle Ages has vanished all the way since about ten years and was replaced by a silent, creeping dictatorship with silent but ultra-effective rules and regulations that were toldto nobody but passed on by some imbecile priesthood. It did not make any sense to my and still does not. It lacks any real communication so how do people comunicate? By inflicting punishments without talking on other for not following unknown rules. Uhh, man that can only be the Extraterrestrials I thought. Have the AOI Annunaki finally come to power and try to convince us of a higher civilization they are implementing?
Nevertheless: I stayed friendly but reserved with the gay owner and had a long culture chat with him while his father was there, I did say it was good to kick out Salazar by force and that I liked the old fashioned architecture way of the town. „But we in Portugal were not that bad, Salazar was not that bad“ he said and I forgot to tell him about the Beans Tras os Montes Kick off Meeting with the AOI in the early seventies and let that pass. I could not believe the mediocrity and squareheaded attitude of theat gay midget. I felt like I had eaten a foul egg for breakfast tried to piss in one of his pot plants near his old father painting some window frames to expresse my attitude. I had qualified for the jerkoff in his universe of gay slickness and he knew I didn't give a shit. But wait, that made him get started and the he remembered that I stayed out with wooooooomen of the old left scene in Faro with jaaazz muuusiiic.
Thus I qualified for ongoing harassement and medivial mental torture of myself by the AOI for the whole stay in Portugal and Spain. But at that time in Faro I was just unpleasantly surprised about what happened the next morning after the nice talk and concert:
„I haaaave to taaaaaaaaaallk to you“ he said in a bleak tone while all other guests were watching and he placed himself behind his small office desk, making him look like a midget who was offeen that some non-gayinvaded his little boyscout camp. I expected he would offer me a blow job for ten Euros but they just dumped my travel bag on the floor and had no more room for me. „Weee aaare booooked oooouuut nooowww – sooorrryyy“. All the nice guest around him looked as if did not get bit up on him last night and I had raped his old father instaed after pissing nea his wooden frames he was painting. It did not cross my mind that this was just the overture for a AOI Annunaki harassement program of a new quality and strength. I missed the new Kick Off meeting of the AOI – that is what I cared about and made the fuck out o there – without farting inside his premises, he was not worth it.
The problem is, that the Portugese bore me to death despite their bleakness and depressed-vicious attitude, reagarded as a unique signe of a high culture. But then they turn into a murderous alien race totally unexpected. Hat is the diference with the Portugese or the Portugaller, to imitate the Spanish across the border who hate them. They go well along those AOI agents especially from Germany who pose around efficiently with their self made trailers and campers in the midst of radio transmitters broadcastíng the AOI mindcontrol program by air to spread mental disease and cancer until everybody is only able to think about the things around him and nothing else. It is always the same in Portugal: people like them get spotted, encircled and then mobbed and harassed, an maybe murdered by a small mob later who is jerking off to pictures of Salazar eating fresh baby legs in vinegar with his wife.
But the Portugese have another unique attitude: the indiscriminate support for anybody they feel is superior to support him with the worst treatment and torture for others. Not only slaughtering fat children for Beans Os tras Montes with Salazars goons but for example allowing the German AOI Nazis to sneak little programs on USB sticks and harddrives by sattelite that manipulate the electric systems of the nearer environment and whole nations. Mothers, do not hesitate: when your baby is dying from unknown electric pollution: call the German AOI and ask them why they torture you and your child to death: it is German technology sneaked on your USB sticks and harddrives, determing your position and manipulating all electricity aroud nyou to hatm you and all people living around you. That is German Nazi AOI technology.
Former natural beach resort Monte Gordo with a many mile long long natural beach and the forests around it:
„Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz“ the moskitos started their attacks arounde 8 pm, it was rattling in the dry leaves, the ants increased their speed to the double and looked as somebody has injected speed into them, they build roads and small towers around me within minutes, „Brrrrrroooooaaaar, Bsssssssss, Broarrrrrrr“ it was hissing in my ears and my face began to swell slowly at the same time: that was the AOI disguised as Portugese police and their Merkel towers unmistakingly making it clear to me that it was no coincidence this forest was dead, dead means no mammal lived there because only the insects were allowed by the Annunaki outside the small paystrip in the middle of the beach and around the beach huts.
„Man don’t you understaaaand they have build such a nice bathing zone in the centre of that beach with all the fancy modern beach huts behind where you DO NOT HAVE THIS ALL, ALL THOSE PROBLEMS ARE GONE THERE! IT IS SOOO NIIIICE THERE! Why do want this ugly forest? We were not allowed to cut it down so we do it with our advanced AOI Pensisula technology! It will for sure die a natural death in the next years because no more animals except insects live there and it will cease to exist. We have created our New Order also in so called nature, the AOI always wins …..“And right they have build about 12 identical square giant beach huts in the middle of the most beautiful and broad and long nature beach of the Algarve and were proud of it. That was a mindset also completely incomprehensive to me but they were right: in the modern centre of the beach there was no radiation at all- what a progress: you just had to pay for not being radiated while all the nature around you was under a fatal radiation umbrella to keep unwanted mamals down. Therefore you got the slimy grin of a waiter that served you his little Neo-Auschwitz camp for a Portugese Algarve holidays.
„Because it is safe that way, don’t you understand that, it is so safe that way, don’t you understand that. If you don’t want it you have to leave, we also throw people like you out of the Kibbuz, that is also safe.“But there were not only French jews there, but many, beware, who liked that as hell on one of the 12 giant beach huts. You could buy time there for not being radiated, that was cute, like paying 15 euros for a bad lunch with some fish or pay 5 Euros for just being allowed on the beach in the centre. Around that posh area were the Occupied Territories where I was leaving only with the insects and some gypsies and the poor poeple who could not live in the centre.
But that was disturbingly and fatiguingly mediocre to the usual extent, because nothing was happening at all, because everybody seemed to like it so I went to the roots of that all and decided to talk to the one person I met in months doing something artistic. An older Dutch doing paintings in some beach hut restaurants on the veranda. I told him that I was writing, in a rare move of myself to express the urge of humans relating to each other when there was something like the same aura around it, art for example. I thought. What was obvious since I sat there with my notebook and that I appreciated his existence as the only artist in the whole Spanish peninsular maybe for some reason. I was reported by him to the police later for being an unknown writer who desired to be watched because maybe I am a shady figure. That is what I got for it since I told him, that they told me., that I would belong to the „old people here from before“.
When I went to the public swimming pool a day later they asked for my ID and called the police to go through my things when I was in the pool. „wow“, I thought, „time to leave“ That was the only real human communication except ordering drinks or food in months with that Dutch asshole painting the fucking beach and boats. So I knew the AOI was on the move and after two nights with temperatures around 2-5 degrees celsius in may in the Algarve I knew somebody was angry at the human race I knew before and me. Dead pigeons were lying around after the blizzard attack in the morning walking around who refused to talk about what happened last night. My fingers were blue as my nose, I met half frozen people, mostly gypsies around who The AOI Annunaki were angry that we did not turn into insects I guess. The Dutch draftman artist was paintings sailing boats again. I watched him sitting there on the veranda when about 20 French jews arrived in the beach hut smiling and shouting. „Finally you have found your place“ he told me when I was standing outside the beachhut ready to leave.
Moving up the famous Fishermen Trail I passed the occult dog worship town of Aljezur, where AOI female agents with rectangular haircuts and glasses walk three or four or five dogs at the the same time also outside town in the flush green nature ways of Aljezur with their friends who worship the dogs faeces and the continous barking of that creatures. I asked them, why I hear barking and why I see dog shit everywhere for miles here and they just said: „we are from the shelter“. „You mean the rehabilitation facility for the mentally depraved and their animal trainers?“ He stared at me and just said „it is all good here in Aljezur, because we have a dog shelter“
They have a dog temple in disguise in that town that is displaying a Horus eye near the bus station where they keep hundreds of that animals a little bit outside of that town and a public swimming pool that no traveller should dare to visit although it was paid for by the European Union and its taxpayers. You can#T get in, believe me,they make that happen for you. Now I know the inner meaning of the stanaic grin I got, when I asked a farmer for the way to the public swiming pool of Aljezur.
„One ticket please“ „I have to check your bag if you have the right swimming equipement with you“ „No you do not have to check that, I just want to shower and have a swim here, this is a public pool paid by us taxpayers, right?“ „You need to present swim shoes, a new pair of bathing trousers and a bathing cap and bathing glasses“ „No I do not have to present that, I just want to get in“ „I am AOI, I am AOI, we are ready now we are ready now or you go to tow and buy everything new“ he shrieked. „Ok, then I just go in for a shower, I do not swim then“. He stared at me in utter disgust and disbelief. „Whaaat? Nooo I can’t do that I can’t do that! Impossible Impossible“
I went away, cursed him to such an extent that he shriekd in agony like an insect whose legs had been removed by sadistic 12 year old boys, letting the spider to rot and leaving him in agony and watched through the huge windows on the elegant swimming pool with racing tracks for about 500 people: Nobody was swimming there on that hot day. It was completely empty.
The police followed me in a Land Rover with four officers sitting inside all around town after that and was passing by every 10 minutes when I was waiting for bus out under the Horus eye in the centre. I felt like in a colonial movie, but I could not determine the geolocation.
I decided to not wash at all for ten days after that to give the Portugese another aspect scent of myself. The garlic for that I ate raw and fresh every day. They did not even dared to ask me for a ticket in trains or money after this. I was sitting in busses and trains and even restaurants without paying and they did not even ask me for it and remained friendly and kept away. I walked into fancy fish restaurants after ten days without any washing myself anywhere with dirt stained clothes and was served food without any demand of payment with an absolutely friendly attitude. Meanwhoile I was writing articles in the resaurants. Then I showered and cleaned everything and it was back to point zero again, as if nothing has happened. If you have to be with occultists and black magicians as the Portugese, you have to give them a sign, a little symbol or hint that you may also be from the abyss if they want you that way..
So I checked in in Lisboa, the capitol of that darkgrey and sinistre stripe of land in disguise with brushed teeth, clean clothes and shining and brushed heini and dick and was surprised about their fancy shopping malls around the railway station and everywhere, replacing the old village like shops and restaurants. At least nobody tried to throw dogshit at me here and denied me a bath later. But they had huge malls and shopping complexes everywhere where they seemed to live, the Portugese youth. But at least they have one, a young generation, they did not stop procreating despite their dull and saudade vibe. The women were kind of non-existent but they produced children, that was marvellous. Sex was not in the public ind at all in Portugal, much less than in Spain or Italy, not to speak of France, but they had a teenager generation doing it everywhere among themselves.
A real Movida was roaming around there with loads of young girls and their boyfriends shopping in chain stores and I was displaying my best mood when asking for the connection to the famous camping ground of Lisboa where we were hanging around thirty years ago or even twenty years ago with campers and long hair , short hair and joints and a lot of visions of a better life.
The butcher realities of live followed all of us after that, mostly unseen and rarely felt during our lives wherever we went – because we have been watched since they were there. Our vibration was the natural enemy of the AOI and it went through and they did not stop eradicating it until the last Mensa of Germany was free of any political, social and cultural agenda except that of the AOI.
There is a special magic when I am travelling and arrive at a new town or vilage or bus station: they play along with me, the gods and ghosts and spirits of the safe journey are all around them and they can not disbehave as they would like to do – that changes when the spirits dissolve and go away, when I become a „stayer“ a resident the day after the next day, just a person who has decided to stay there for a while. Then the jerks in shops, cafes and restaurants behave different. They do not turn to enemies but the magic of the contact has gone, I am not a mysterious wanderer anymore, they piss around.
I made a little sacrifice with what I had for the god of the ocean once when I was in Norway on an island that was known for being the gods home once and Njoerd’s especially and it has created exactly that vibe: I was welcome everywhere in Norway and that remained, it stayed until we left weeks later without any problem at all. We had not one day of rain in weeks in Norway and although the car had a axle damage all the time it never stopped running like new off road vehicle on the smallest tracks and dirt roads.
The Lisboa camping was also nice, as I knew it fom the eighties. I was camping in the woods nearby because I did not want to disturb the AOI agents at the camping ground and the Verfassungsschutz from Hannover with their extra long hair who already stared at me with insect like dead killer eyes and went to the camping only to eat and write in there old fashioned camping ground cantina. That was possible, I asked them politely and under the thousand electronic eyes I walked in and seated myself in the restaurant to have breakfast. That worked out even when I plugged in my notebook to write, I thought, an action that is nowhere to be seen in Southern Europe and France these days, you will be reported immediately to police ans AOI for further action. They even rip your plug out of the wall in Galicia for being a writer not registered with the fascist or regionalist or gang or however they call that turd somebody has created for them – something phony to believe in in a shallow attempt to copy the real things we did before.
But a camping is a camping, many independent people around, many freaks and individualists I thought and how I remembered it . A Camping was always a break from the common mans live even when the common man tried to imitate his common man live in the camping ground to such an extent that it was not even ridicoulos anymore: they rebuild even their wooden fence from home on the camping. And today they rebuild the harassement and the electronic surveilance and the snitching on the camping ground so you can not miss home. “No blody difference from home Janie, I got three complaints with the local police for pissing in the neighbors garden. It was all on tape, and my dick was cut out.”
So it worked well in the beginning, I took my breakfast there and wrote when I was approached by the first AOI agent: a long haired German freak obviously working for the AOI.
„We haven’t done anything, no we have’t done anything real-.We have just phoned his employer that he has a side job selling child pornography to the Revolutionary Cells. We haven’t done anything, we haven’t DONE anything“. Agent Jointpapers head shook for and back in wild convulsions. „ But this person is much too young to have any conections with the Revolitionbary Cells and he never had any contact with children. How can you make such a thing up, Jointpaper, you nearly destroyed his life.“ Jointpaper shook forth and back and his long hair was blowing in the nonexistent winds: „I have not done anything, I just protected innocent people s life, I had the impression and then the obligation that he is doing this like that, I haven’t done anything“ He then banged his head on the desk, a stunt he had learnt in a workshop with Donny, a fake pschychotherapist who had studied two semesters of dietetics in Pforzheim and then worked for Herbaway but was kicked out because he tried to promote sales by giving free anilingus to old housemen with hemorhhoids.He stared at me and I knew it was over. That was all. Just one look from evil eyes under greasy long freak hair staring at me full of hatred from German AOI. I looked away and minded my business, writing and eating, because food is a thing the Portugese can handle sometimes. I admit that, I give it to them,they are black magicians and you need some magic to cook. But it was changed from that moment on. He sat outside on the terrace – a typical figure from Northern Germany, Hannover or the like, slick and slippery with an evil grin and the full and hundred percent freak from the old times. He had off course been busted several times before he betrayed all of his friends and the cops pushed him over to AOI who sent him abroad to snitch and lie about others on file. „Yes men, I am with the Killer Ants, you know, still the best in old style straight rock music.“
I went back to the forests around that part of Lisboa where the poorest of the poor live in housing complexes and the communist party of the old time has still its strongholds. Some houses are empty, others are closed with boards nailed into the walls and the police is constantly driving around the blocks, flashing blue lights without any reasons and shouting „Salve Salazar“ while looking like the black guy from A-Team with a futuristic Mad Max haircut.
I had a good spot there in the woods with a view and just went into my sleeping bag when the summing, buzzing and hissing began. „Bzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzzz“ in my ears and then in my skull. My cheeks began to react and tensions arose inside, I got rash symptomes and stood up. It was impossible to stay, that little piece of shit had called his AOI officers and they had called the police here. I packed my shit together and hid it in a hollow tree and walked some kilometres to the camping ground. The hiss, summing and buzzing intensified. I stood outside the fence and watched the cell phone towers nearby and could really feel the evil vibration from them oozing about the landscape and the epicentre was the camping ground. Campers and cars were waiting at the gate to escape the AOI attack and drive away.
A young family with their crying baby was standing at the gate and were waiting for an escape. She had the baby in her arm but it could not be calmed. I could not be calmed, it was so horrible as if they tried to reenact the Iraqui war in the desert where they destroyed the Iraqui army by electronic attacks like this. I ran back to the street and jumped into the next bus passing by and stepped out after five kilometers. It was absolutely silent. No hissing, no buzzing to be heard, it felt like the old southern Europe again, there was a little glimpse of the magic of a night in the south without noises created in your skull and ears by electronic disturbance. They have even crossed that border and destroyed the inner peace of all humans. There will be children in the future who have never ever experienced an inner silence at all. Even in their mothers womb they hear that disgusting hissing and buzzing of the AOI.
Copyright 2019 by Ronald C. Kaiser
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