Last night I left the house late for a drive. I avoided the impulse to head east to the Berkeley Hills, along Grizzly Peak and out to Wildcat Canyon, opting instead for a drive over the windy bridges of the Bay. It was late enough on Saturday night so that 80 West was open, and so too were the toll booths, where even without FasTrak, I would have quickly passed onto the new span of the Bay Bridge. It was a hot day yesterday, upwards of 90 inland and about 80 closer to the mudflats, in the neighborhoods of Berkeley that stretch along the highway where the wild turkeys travel. Even before I rolled onto the Bay Bridge, the wind cut through the ever-present sound of the mobbers’ verbal abuse.
This consistent amelioration of the mobbing harassment in conditions of wind is what led me early on to conclude that radio waves and air transmission figured prominently in the mobbing harassment, and those references I’ve found online to harassment such as I’ve endured as a result of a real estate mobbing in my Seattle neighborhood have tended to describe modes of delivery that involve transmission over the air, radios of varying bands, and antennas onto different kinds of speakers or surfaces that are conductive or otherwise act as speakers.
I drove over the Bay Bridge, passing the exit I usually take to work and finding my way over to Van Ness and to the route to the Golden Gate Bridge. The lights of the Golden Gate reflected through a misty cloud cover under the nighttime sky and as my small car rolled along the deck between the suspension cables it was as close to silence as I have gotten during the real estate mobbing of these last years.
A great factor in these few moments of silence, I realized even as the quieting took hold in the Marina District, was not simply the weather, but this break from my routine of coming home at night, and remaining there. Especially here in the San Francisco Bay Area where the troubles of a northwest neighborhood overrun with unethical speculators and a corrupt neighborhood watch are left behind, the ability of the mobbers or their lowlife unlicensed detectives and hacking criminals to mob me consistently relies on my keeping a routine. If I break with the routine, they may not have the “staffing,” so to speak, to ensure that the mob is unremitting.
And if the term “mobbing” is a sticking point for you, imagine that you’re being bullied by voice over your cell phone, for example. Maybe like some tenants in New York City, some bad landlord hired some tenant relocators to defame you on the Internet, or someone who wants something from you decided that they’d use the fact that the FBI has ignored many cases of cyber-bullying affecting adults to ruin your life or force you to acquiesce to some crime. Naturally, if someone is cyber-bullying (“mobbing”) you, they’re probably going to pursue this method as cruelly and unremittingly as possible because they think it’s most likely to work this way. But to do this unremittingly, they have to be attentive to detection and to the possibility of creating witnesses, which probably means they have to use some level of monitoring or “listening” on your speaker. And that means that they require “staffing.”
There’s also the additional factor, for mobbers who use radio-based transmission, of range. Range means having the proximity required to ensure that your victim hears you. If radio is less likely to be detected than cell phone “mobbing,” for example, mobbers who use the “kitchen sink” method to combine modes of transmission into a nearly unbroken daisy-chain of harassment, could possibly switch from low-power radio transmission to the unsecured, or “back-doored,” smartphone of the victim.
At any rate, a consistently refreshing countermeasure to mobbing harassment, is not simply the wind. Combining the winds of San Francisco with unplanned trips under cover of night may provide moments of respite to a long-suffering victim of mobbing.
Of course, don’t forget. Leave that smartphone at home. Generations survived without carrying phones with them. You can too. Embrace the world around you. As Ram Dass would say, “Be here now.” Maybe you just don’t fall in front of a train. Either way, it’s worth finding out what happens.
And that brings me to my closing this evening. I’m still here, and still surviving as a victim of real estate mobbing. I’m living between two cities, and continue to work in tech in San Francisco. Today I nearly finished an entry for this blog about the impact that being real estate mobbed can have on the due process rights of mobbing victims who are unfortunate enough to be steamrolled into court. Look for it by the Labor Day weekend.
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