Or is it ‘furtivity’? I don’t know what to callit. But for decades, I seem to have this ability to spot the furtive people.
For instance, a guy rides by my house on a bike, with two others, and breaks off from his ‘unit’ of three.
–and the stops in front, on my sidewalk. He asks ‘Excuse me sir, do you have any oil? My bike chain fell off.’
I’ll call him “Ray” for the record. I give the guy the benefit of the doubt–he is somewhat ragged, and a bit stressed. I tell him to wait a minute.
He then ‘introduces himself by rambling on about his life, and punctuates his ramble with ‘ but I like the hot mommas,’ meaning ‘sexy women.’.
Why he introduced himself thus is anyone’s guess, but at that point I informed him that I have two hot mommas in my house, my wife and my baby, and if he is some kid of weirdo or another, I would take care of business directly (use your imagination). With emphasis on my daughter–if anyone fucks with her, life will not be long enough to outlive my revenge upon YOU. but I know what you are planning, and I have already taken steps to protect her form you ( I am not worried about random stranger kidnappings–I know how complicit state agents and agencies are in violating children, and exploiting little girls for direct monetary benefits such as…your paycheck. And, factually, little children in America are MORE and MOST likely to be killed, molested, or otherwise harmed by WOMEN–do your reading little outlying suburban cop–than any stranger, or any FATHER to ANY kid in America.)
He then asserts ” Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that!” and ” I am just talking, you know? I am not that kind of person.”
Which is enough for me, and I believe him, because I have sized him up as a weirdo, a likely ex con, and someone who has had a ‘marginalized life.’ Lastly, it is never–statistically NEVER that people like him are the kidnappers, molesters, or rapists that the police state will have us believe that they “could be.” In fact, most child rapes happen because women, police, doctors, and mothers conspire to make it so–fathers are the least likely human beings to ever allow children to be abused–yet curiously, and perversely, Americas police state mechanism strives daily to create the appearance, and the memetic and viral idea that men and fathers do such things to children*.
And I go and get him some oil–the last drops from a 2-cycle can.
And, when I come out into my driveway, I see that he has inched himself up to my gate–that he has literally occupied my driveway from the furthest from the street point, to my door, and he has his bike tipped upside down at this convenient view point of my garage. But even then, I give him the benefit of the doubt. Much later, I have learned everything I need to know about his guy–his years as a drug addict, his use of Craigslist to get part time employment, and his bad teeth–the product of upbringing he says.
Yeah, I believe him–not everyone had the benefit of a dentist in America, at least in my generation.
Yeah–or meth mouth, or crack–whatever. Here’s your oil and move along, which he did–but only after leaving me his number and address on a piece of paper, and then, only after a comely young woman–a former single mother now married,she told me, and one of his bike mates that had passed by with him earlier–comes to my aid and tells him to ‘stop bugging this guy’, with admonishments to him thathe talks too much, ad that he can be obsessive.
And then, they left–these kinds of people are easy to figure out, and easy to get rid of, and easy to understand in a compassionate manner.
I might even call him some time to trim my trees or something, based on his description of himself and his skillset.
But I never will, I discover two days later when I toss his number in the trash–he was a weirdo, but harmless, even though he did scope out my garage for a brief instant–troubled and marginalized existences can cause that sort of behavior.
And, really, he wasn’t at all creepy–his forth right manner in presentig himself AS a weirdo was reassuring–I knew by his presentation that he was who he said he was, a weirdo. He got his chain oil and moved along.
But the guy who rode by on his bike tonight at 7:55 p.m.– a white male, 34-42 years of age, tanned, less than recently shaved, approximately 200 lbs, in clean shorts, and clean tee riding a red bike–this guy creeped me out. Creepers are always dressed appropriately, and in sync with power structure expectations.
What is the difference?
After all, the stereotype of creeps and criminals who scope out the houses of others is almost always like “Ray” the above metioned ‘weirdo’ who actually is just a marginalized guy trying to get his chain oiled, and maybe pick up some work–a predictable drug user, etc.
And the stereotype in my area from the last seceral decades was almost always black, brown or ‘other’ men who were suspicious based on skin color and other stereotypical traits ( like Trayvon Martin…RIP).
But white people–they generally are not the primary suspects–but this guy–the guy on the red mountain bike, fit my profile of a GS. In fact, I could pick him out of a lineup, based on his shifty eyes alone–because when white people come to steal rape, kidnap, or rob, they come in the well trained guise of power or privilege, and they do not follow neighborhood rules at all; they reveal nothing about themselves directly, and they are always ‘on a mission.’ That mission shows itself by how they dismissively ‘scope’ you, and the surroundings out, like thieves, but with a ‘bigger’ agenda.
Such is my experience with decades of interactions with the various task farces, local law enfarcers who come into the city or state from somewhere else ( somewhere that Aunt Bea always has a nice hot pie cooling on a windowsill for a little Opie, or Oprah; where mothers are always terrific and noble, and long suffering; and fathers are always bread winning, taxpaying, stereotype upholdig ex veterans who fart for your freedumb–er, fought for yer’ freedom).
Anyways–this guy is really just as predictable as a crack head, but less genuine, or trustworthy.
The first time he rides by, is just as my wife strolls up with my daughter in a stroller. He looks as if he is a hydra–looking left and right, his eyeballs like a roving band of miscreants–and once up and down my wifes torso–and when I seek eye contact, he pedals harder, but glances me ‘up and down’, then and looks away, without shame.
His sun tan is also out of pocket on my block because we haven’t had enough sun in my part of the world to get a tan like that–but this guy obviously has traveled somewhere to get that Vegas beige on his otherwise pasty, Germaic skin.
And then, some five minutes later, he pedals back the other way (North, now)–and this time, he is acting as if on orders of some kind; he looks up at my roof, down at my driveway, and furtively searchingly at every corner of my house that his eyes can catch, like a displaced swallow looking for a new nest, limited as they are by the speed of their furtive and ever dutiful forward progression.
And he is searching for the placement of my security cameras–I see the exact moment when his eyes see the camera placements–and again, he avoids eye contact, when I see what he is up to.
This is a real event, triggered by decades of cop gossip about who “I” am–about who “I” might be; ad only thinly disguised as surveillance, because these people are really criminals with official titles, and government job ratings–G10’s and G14’s–moron speak that means ” minding a pension that robs the people of sleep.’ or other productive time.
In fact, they are the petty dregs of the grand plan that encopmpasses all of the mechanisms and all of the machinery of the thief’s of time.
It is like looking at a wolf who is scouring the landscape for the profile of little lambs–looking to lambs for sustenance, and afterwards skipping back to its outlying suburb to tend to its own kin, after mentally ravishing, reconnoitering, and raping mine–his eyes deliciously and true to his nature lapping up the juicy, intangible, but voyeuristic and pleasing details of my security–the feeble attempts I make at protecting my wife and child from those like him–and probing for breaches, contemplating the manner in which he will subvert my feeble, human attempts to protect my wife and child from him and those like him–these creatures who crawl through our neighborhoods in the disguise of sheep, with wolf teeth showing, and government paychecks sticking out of their pocket–and that, at the speed of a mountain bike on sidewalk.
And that, on a timeframe wherein they do their “duty” and their “jobs,” and then scurry like pestilent vermin back to the outer ring suburbs where they write reports about the bad people in the city, and sleep well, knowing that what they do is anonymous, ad relatively untraceable–knowing that no social mechanism exposes the rat [pack dirty deeds they do to the rest of us, as they target one of “me.”
Or, approximately 5.5 seconds, according to my cameras, this mountain bike moron was captured on film–and I can supersonically pick him out of a lineup. These people are not heros–they are the precursors to more freedom lost yet to come; the breeze at out doorstep that becomes a wave of torrential wind at our sleeping child’s kresh.
Now, “Ray” also noticed my cameras, and congratulated me for them–noted the importance of protecting a wife and child–but this guy–he is one of the dark men who stalk the people of the earth with great hunger for childrens lives–this last man, he was on a mission, and it signalled me thatI am due for another round of break-ins, or other cop/gangstalker/ law enfarcement shenanigans.
And that, likely soon.
* In America, the police state has asserted itself by dehumanizing fathers–by creating the false appearance that fathers do or would hurt their own, or others children. Meanwhile, international interests gain direct compliance, and monetary benefits with the assistance of American police farces by perpetuating the idea that fathers molest children, or allow them to be harmed ( sexual harm to children is indefensible–even the suggestion of it in any country, under any politic is a de- facto ascription of guilt; the police state projects sexual harm onto children, and uses the ‘suspicion’ of fathers as a rule of thumb to decapitate a childs ability to grasp the world and the worlds opportunities. In the wqest, there is o more powerful or more destructive use of language than to merely infer that fathers of children–particularly fathers of daughters–‘could be’, might be’ or ‘are probably’ child molesters.
Ironically, such a mementic device is exactly what one might expect of a foreign enemy, directing its will against the American people; but in America, it is the police, in collusion/conspiracy with other state agencies that perpetuate such mythology.
And, even more ironically, the ‘domestic war on domestic violence’ is the front- piece of this deliberate assassination of men and fathers in America–the deliberate precipitator of the kidnappings of hundreds of thousands of American kids every year, BY state agents.
I long for the for the day when I can ride through his–and their neighborhoods, and count up the value of their own security–maybe even exploit them the way they have exploited me–but that is not something that one can do in America–because these types are protected from our scrutiny, and shielded by their badges because most Americans never see what they actually, and really do to other citizens who refute their version of truth telling–and who have found a need to protect ourselves from them more than any type of predator who will harm our children.