GVJ has copies of most/ some of my transcripts and diplomas… for those of you who STILL believe that this filthy foreigner is making up her professional background, lol.
See also the “about” me page.
GVJ has copies of most/ some of my transcripts and diplomas… for those of you who STILL believe that this filthy foreigner is making up her professional background, lol.
See also the “about” me page.
I am a stalking and hacking target, have been for 12, 13 years. I have no income, no electricity and very little food. (I am not eligible for Universal Credit – because of my hacking/stalking situation – but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing.)
None of this means that my life is over, even if whoever is doing this to me wants my life to be over. (Yes, apparently quite literally, unfortunately. But he or she does not realise that it’s like a mere rain shower. It will pass.)
Where that leaves me? You tell me!
My hacker put the animation on that last bit of video, about Boston. I left it that way. All the other edits are likely mine.
The weirdest thing just happened. I ran into one of the neighbours and wanted to update him – see below – and while he was as sweet as peaches last time I spoke with him, he was extremely hostile now and saying crazy things like “I don’t want to see your face anymore”. (Another one of those remarks that are actually intended for his partner? I hardly ever see the guy!)
But…he also said “I don’t think you should be trying to repair your own electricity” …
Here’s the thing. I never said or wrote anything like that to anyone anywhere!
All I said and wrote is that I was trying to transfer the account to see if that would get the problem resolved! (Because my power company – Bulb – clearly isn’t up to the task.)
(These neighbours don’t speak and understand English very well so we’ve always communicated via notes. They always only speak Russian or something on the phone. And they’re on the phone a lot and usually very loudly, too.)
It looks like someone else has been leaving notes for them that they think are from me.
He also said that he was my stalker when I asked him – after his weird remarks – but I’m pretty sure he was just being a misogynistic asshole when he said that.Continue reading
Okay these videos take too long to upload via WiFi. I’ll try again tomorrow.
(Uploaded them to YouTube instead and posting the links here.)
No, I’m not backing down from the local bullies, whoever they are. I want my goddamn life back.
Friday, 7 pm.
Local pub time?
I’m still not entirely well, but getting there. Yep, it was the head trauma that “knocked me out”.
I’ll talk about in a new video soon. (I hit my head against a curved railing, four times, while litter-picking through it on 24 August. There’s something called a subacute subdural hematoma and it looks like that’s what it was. I was lucky. Healthcare is currently very hard to get, I read in Metro last week. Sad stories such as about someone having died because no medical staff was there to notice someone’s dangerously low BP due to a hernia.)
By the way, did you know that Boris Johnson apparently has instructed the NHS to call refurbished hospitals etc “new hospitals”?
So that he can claim he has created x new hospitals. Ha ha.
That means that we’re all millionaires, I’m sure. (Particularly the poor, who try to spend every penny at least three times to make it go further.)
Oh, and there are no fuel shortages either. None whatsoever. The BBC is lying about that.
As it happens, I couldn’t help but overhear shreds of a local conversation about fuel shortages either. I heard someone say something about what I thought was our driveway, so that made me curious.
“been turned into a parking space”
“cars lining up”
Were they serious?
But no, it was about fuel shortages. Cars lining up at the pumps that have fuel.
We also run into empty shelves in supermarkets.
Because Brexit has happened and so many of those evil people from abroad have left the UK, including many lorry drivers (called “truck drivers”, in American English).
The Guardian also had an interesting article on it, too. Apparently, there’s a shortage of around 100,000 lorry drivers. The UK government wants to solve that via a “U-turn” that allows 5,000 visas to be issued towards addressing this shortage?
That’s done then, easy-peasy like a ready meal.
In these videos. I talk about some experiences I’ve had in England.
I want you to think about what this means for people who aren’t highly educated and from Amsterdam. I know that calling out people the way I have started doing annoys a lot of people, but research has shown that explaining diversity issues in a nice and agreeable manner does not accomplish a thing.
Who Mr Vernon Jackson is, you wonder? He is the local Lib Dem City Council leader. In the summer of 2019, after I came home to another incident of vandalism in my flat, the locks having been picked again while I was away, I asked two professors in the Netherlands to call Portsmouth City Council Leader Gerald Vernon-Jackson. None of these two knew me personally but they were people I was working with at the time and I am a nobody here in Portsmouth.
I needed someone with standing to mediate for me.
I’d been asking for help with my situation for years, after all, as the local police knows and as also for example former local Lib Dem City Councillor Steve Pitt knows. (Steve Pitt used to be a pub landlord. I used to frequent that pub. It no longer exists.)
Professor Karel Keesman (WUR) called Vernon-Jackson, who owes his double-barreled name to his Canadian dad. Not much happened for about a month until yet another attempt was made to evict me and Vernon-Jackson agreed to see me then. He (GVJ) decided to ignore the cause of my problems, the background of my situation. Instead, he kept questioning my sanity; that is what I refer to in this video.
He simply does not know his own town very well, however. (I must say that this also applies to Advice Portsmouth, which is based at Kingston Crescent.)
He lives in a pretty little house in a pretty little street in a pretty little neighbourhood. He has no idea of what goes on in the rest of Portsmouth and a few years ago, he suggested that giving poor people broken, discarded and possibly-made-to-function-somewhat again white goods would help them get out of poverty.
Starting a buyers’ club would be a much better idea. (I worked on that idea briefly, but the locals made fun of it again – because they hack into all my equipment, which my poverty makes too easy, they know what I am up to; they sometimes take ideas and forward them to others so that they can use them, too – and there isn’t a soul that I can talk with in this town, is there?)
Sadly, he probably unwittingly ended up making a public spectacle out of me that signaled to the community that I was a nobody and that it was okay to continue to abuse me. So that is what happened.
Only a few months before I met with Vernon-Jackson, someone had taken a rotary metal cutter to the neck of an animal for no other reason than to signal to me that women must know their place and that this is how men deal with recalcitrant women. (I received a message.) It had happened before. (I received a message that time, too.) That bird died, this one survived. A bird had also been attacked, similarly, inside my flat while I was out. Before that happened, I had received a weird message, someone asking me how my dog was getting along with the bird. I don’t have a dog.
Gerald Vernon-Jackson unwittingly signals that he is okay with this kind of thing because this kind of thing is seen as perfectly normal here as I stated at the beginning, above. He is certainly is no exception. I can’t hold it against him. He’s just like just about everybody else here.
But I do not want to continue to “live” like this. This is no life. At all.
So I have recently started making more and more and more and more noise about my untenable situation. I have currently been without electricity for two weeks for example; this was some kind of punishment for not being a sweet little girl.
The electrician who installed the new meter on 28 June said that if I used “the old key”, the meter would go faulty again. That’s how these messages are conveyed; you sound like an idiot when you talk about it but there simply is no such thing as the electricity meter going faulty after you insert the wrong key.
He also sorta fell half on top of me and put warning tape on all the main live wires, signalling “stupid cow freaks out all the time” or “all women are brain-dead” of whatever. Abuse of women is seen as perfectly normal here. I am supposed to beg and cry and fall on my knees and ask please please please pretty please, holy massas with penises, can you please please please let me live my life, please please please?
So, for the past 10+ years, a group of people who literally behave like the bloody mafia have been at me, trying to bully and beat me into acting like a sweet little 5-year-old or 2-year-old like a good woman should. (And/or providing sex to the local hoodlums? Hell no.)
And there is nowhere I can get help with this. I was supposed to have died when I turned 45 and I didn’t and that makes me a bad bad bad woman, or whatever. (This seems to be because I am not married, by the way. The highest achievable goal for any woman in England seems to be to get married.)
I don’t see how I can still make any headway when even the people who are supposed to be my peers treat me like I am a demented old cow, time and time again.
(Poverty has a lot to do with as well – it goes with being seen as brain-dead, to – but initially, people used to be ticked off with me because I was “too” confident, as that too isn’t done here. At least not for women. It becomes a Catch-22.
You cannot not upset English people, I’ve learned. They seem perpetually upset and offended and annoyed so you gotta do your thing no matter what, but you have to go it alone – or with your own kind – because there’s no other way, then, is there.
But then, whoever’s been hacking my equipment interferes with just about anything I do, sigh. So that too is not possible. He used to get angry and still often does when I look at foreign news sites because English sites do not always have a lot of international news.
The locals shut off my water, power etc as they please. They also, for example, used to hang around near the 3-flat building (in 2011), guffawing, and then run into the house and flip the power switches for the entire building. Ha ha. I was usually at my computer and the only one in.
I’ve also talked about my experiences in my book “Is cruelty cool?” You can download the PDF from this site or head to Amazon.
That little hiccup at the start of the first video was likely introduced by my hacker, by the way. It was not done by me.
If you wonder about that HLS course, why my hacker didn’t interfere with that, so have I. It was an introduction to contract law, by the way, by Charles Fried, former Solicitor General of the United States and a professor at HLS.
Curiosity, I think. How I would do.
He did interfere with the second course that I wanted a certificate or at least a score for. That also happened to be at HLS (bioethics, by I. Glenn Cohen). The hacker kept deleting my completed homeworks. (Ha ha. But it does not really matter, does it?) I ended up writing a bioethics-related book after that.
It IS possible that he is now out of my equipment, as of yesterday. But that has happened before and it never lasted long.
I think that people who are autistic and based in England and have good hacking skills are often more or less forced to use those skills as currency. But they can also get abused that way as they are the ones taking the risks, aren’t they?
A clothing item that disappeared 2, 3 years ago has suddenly reappeared. It wasn’t on a hanger but along the bottom of a wardrobe. I know for a fact that it wasn’t there before.
Below is a photo of the item on a hanger.
I decided to wear it today.
The brand is Golddigga.
That’s a theme for him. Whether or not I am one.
At the same time glass wool fibres were left behind on the indoor door-handle. That reflects two things. Hands. And insulation material for a warm home.
They’ve also released a mouse into my flat, lol. It’s happened before. This time it is in relation to beastassistance.com
Thankfully, I am increasingly starting to feel better. I was so dizzy and had bouts of vertigo and that felt pretty disabling, so I am pleased that it’s improving.
I just sent you an e-mail but most of my e-mails get lost in cyberspace these days.
Re your paper – and THANKS for that! – also see:
Walking back from Lidl, I run into two young people who are screaming their heads off at a family in a car. This is at this notorious spot next to Ma’s in Kingston Road, where you need X-ray vision to be able to turn into the road.
They have a child in a buggy. They walk on, leaving an utterly flabbergasted family behind. “Fucking hell.” the guy says calmly, clearly stunned. Ethnic minorities, by the looks of it, but clearly English. “Just laugh about it.” I tell them.
To my frustration, the young female goes after the car again a few minutes later, and then the male runs after the car. Probably as high as a kite on meth?
I’m not having it.
Worried that he will pull the driver out of the car in busy traffic, I decide to interfere and yell very loudly “Don’t be ridiculous!” and “Hey! Stop it!”
The female turns and runs towards me and I had just spotted that that had distracted the dude before she starts shouting into my face from a distance of about five centimetres.
Good. Because I thought she was going to hit me and I am not feeling well so I can’t run away.
“Nobody tells me in my own country what to do!” Some stuff about her child, which she has just abandoned at least twice. “Go back to where you came from!”
“I’m from Amsterdam!” I yell as she walks away again.
“Go back then!”
I retort “I would love to but you won’t let me.”
“You won’t let me!”
I say sorry to a woman who’s walking by, clearly not happy with this kind of thing that you run into all the time when you live here instead of in Gerald Vernon-Jackson’s pretty little street. She smiles at me. A genuine smile.
I pass the young woman and her child at a bus stop later. I sensed that she was aware of me approaching and I sense that she is not keen on another confrontation. I walk by without paying any attention.
The guy had disappeared somewhere between Ma’s and the bus stop.
I’m exhausted. But I think I achieved my goal.
So I did a web search.
That’s the International Board of Credentialing and Continuing Education Standards. There are people who mediate in courts, who serve as advocates for autistic people and this organisation has training (and a certificate).
This is a former police officer.
I have meanwhile done some thinking about this. I think it was the detective (link above) who talked about someone following women and taking photos of them. (Yeah, that happened to me too. I thought I was imagining it until the moment came when it was clear that I was not.)
I think I sort of get this, from the Asperger’s side. Having thought a lot about various forms of neurodiversity including certain personality disorders is very slowly starting to give me an intuitive feel for how these things work.
I had a friend with narcissistic personality disorder (NPD), have known her for decades. I mentioned that in videos as well as in one of my books. What I didn’t mention is that she actually was the one who brought it up and that is why I looked into it. To protect her identity, I wrote that the friendship fell apart, in the book. It had not yet, but it may have now. Time will tell.
She needles, sometimes in a stealthy way, imagining that people won’t see it. She may give you “Success for Dummies”. She may tell you that the big pharmaceutical companies have programs that give free meds to poor people. She may make fun of you in all sorts of ways. But she also has a lot of genuinely helpful practical tips and a great sense of humor. She’s highly intelligent and for that reason alone already usually highly enjoyable company.
Next, I discovered that I’ve also had an autistic friend for decades. (She’s confirmed that. She is not highly autistic but I have stumbled over hiccups a few times in the past and have apologized to her.)
I am sort of starting to develop a feeling for what brings someone with Asperger’s to stalk women. Autistic people see things from a different angle and that gives them a very different perspective on things. Their logic is different. My autistic friend’s logic is also very different at times, which can be very baffling and even infuriating if you don’t know about the autism and don’t know what’s behind some of her conclusions.
I sometimes see something similar with intelligent non-human animals too. That their logic is different, not flawed, that they see things from their viewpoint, not the mainstream human viewpoint (which is often based on certain facts and without those facts, you can draw very different but equally valid conclusions, I’ve learned).
From the above, it appears that it is not necessarily – as I initially thought and mentioned in one of my books – people with NPD and/or psychopathy – who engage in so-called sadistic stalking.
I didn’t sign it straight away. I generally do not sign petitions if the cause would merely benefit me without any further background.
But there is a lot of deep poverty in the UK and particularly older adults and poor people tend to struggle with their health, also because their healthcare tends to be of lower quality because of bias.
I think that meds should be free for people of all ages, however.
I also think it’s cruel that young people get lower wages and lower benefits. They don’t get their bread, butter, milk and veggies cheaper because of their age and their utilities and rent aren’t cheaper either.
I tried to do something in one government app – related to me not living in the Netherlands – and it referred me to something else. I just logged into that, to do what I was asked to and it tells me that I can’t do that because I am not living in the Netherlands.
That sort of thing happens A LOT.
I am also regularly told to contact the Dutch municipality in which I am living. (Yeah, every sigh and sneeze gets registered there – with one’s Dutch municipality – and needs to be applied for in triplicate. It can be rather cumbersome, particularly when one does not have a Dutch municipality in which one is living.)
The PDF was published on the EMA website yesterday. See Table II-7 List of AZD1222 AESIs on page 31.
An opinion in Dutch mainstream news (the always very serious NRC!) on 30 August 2021:
I am based in a town with an often terribly abusive culture and a lot of violence. Abuse is generally glorified here, applauded, at all levels in society and victims made fun of, shunned, at all levels in society.
Here where we live, we frequently get pestered by local youngsters whose parents are typical abusive adult yobs.
They do things like climb onto the roofs and bully us in our homes. The police won’t do anything about it because they’re terrified of getting backlash from these youngsters’ relatively well-to-do parents. Such as getting sued. The youngsters know it and think they know how to use it on civilians.
But their psychopathic troll tactics don’t have the same effect on emancipated civilians like me who’ve seen a bit of the world.
In the past, I took photos, posted them on the local police’s Facebook page and I called the police about them too. A waste of time. I repeat, the local police are (often abusive themselves but also) terrified of these youngsters’ parents.
Other than abusive yobs, the local community consists of mostly unbelievably gullible fools with almost no education, very little life experience hence very little perspective and no hope for the future whatsoever.
Meanwhile, at about the same time near Tampa in Florida, a guy from Brandon killed a 3-month-old baby, the baby’s mother and grandmother, a man, and a dog called Diogi. He also shot an 11-year-old girl several times. A former marine sharpshooter with a health problem.
Most of the locals would consider that a laughing matter.
(No, not literally everyone here would consider it a laughing matter, but far too many to allow me to feel comfortable in this town.)
I remind you of the phrase “witch hunt” at this point.
(The following morning, the hacker turned out to have removed the letter “c” from the word “witch”.)
It is all connected. Everything is connected. From the males who made Jocelyn’s life hell every time she walked into the room to the Nazis who hunted down everyone they wanted to hunt down and that wasn’t only Jews, but also gay people and Roma and disabled people and Slavs and many others. It is just a matter of scale, a point on a spectrum with Nazi behaviour at the far end and silly goose altruists, empaths and tree huggers at the other end.
I recorded the video below on 7 June.
Fear of the Nazis was the main reason why the role of Lise Meitner and nuclear physics disappeared from the original story of the discovery of fission, for which the Nobel Prize in Chemistry was awarded, because Meitner – baptised a protestant – was of Jewish extraction. She fled to the Netherlands. From there, she was able to go to Sweden, where she was offered a paid position.
(Aspect of special interest, perhaps, is that one of the speakers in this video appears to have Tourette’s and is coping with it very well in a very public role.)
And what a cool kid that Isaac is! He’s rocking it, in spite of the pandemic.
Be careful, people!
The fact that I have gotten many messages that spelled out “We the people of Portsmouth do not want you here! Leave! Go away!” from the very day in early 2009 that I collected the keys to my flat in Southsea and continue to be bombarded with that kind of crap…
How can you protect yourself? Submit a good enough photo (or scan) of a printed scan or printed photo of your ID with scribbled through it the date of when you are submitting it and what for, namely “NHS volunteering” or the “NHS stewarding” or the like. (This is a tip I got from my consul when there still was a consulate in Southampton.)Continue reading
I signed up for and then missed the webinar. But, thankfully, it’s online, so I can catch up. So can you.
Expert panel, this time:
Because there are anonymous people here who have a bit of a habit of slicing through the necks of pigeons with a rotary metal cutter just to teach you a lesson, let you know how they feel about pigeons.
I learned that the hard way.