BACKGROUND ORGANISED AGGRESSION
I endured politically-motivated harassment under torture-like conditions while working on a PhD at Lund University. Refined methods meant to harm were executed by an organisation spanning several departments, involving staff at all levels of the hierarchy, and of varying intensity.
Although I survived to tell the story, involvement from authorities caused exclusion from academia and social death. In the aftermath, my unqualified employments often resemble military-enlistment drills more than actual jobs. Hostility from those in charge regularly approximates a level where people break down in tears or quit before escalation reaches climax.
The harsh discipline currently enforced in southern Sweden is not ordinary work-place despotism, as it extends to all aspects of everyday life. Neither is it a local phenomenon exclusively tied to Scanian Fascism, the reformed Nazis, or my more recent stands on controversial topics.
Institutional aggression goes back roughly two decades, at least. The authority responsible for Swedish SAT, tied to Umeå University in northern Sweden, downgraded scores and misspelled my name on my best result from 2003. The SAT is managed by a government agency under Ministry of Education and Research. I discovered this angle by chance, roughly seventeen years after the fact, when I asked for a certificate of the 2003 result for a job application.
I received all tests but it was dubious if any of them would do as valid certificates. On further inspection I noticed that authorities not only degraded my tests, they took their time to transfer points from the logical and quantitative parts, to the verbal part of the test. Clearly these facsimiles give rise to suspicion as the misspelling of my name, and the rearranged scores, give the impression of inconsistency.
How do I know that the alteration was made 2003? Because I wrote down and checked my answers. I had a high mark on quantitative and logical-reasoning, but received a more modest score of about 65-70%. I also noticed that the vocabulary mark was significantly higher than expected. My total score was top-notch so I ignored, what I once assumed was a singular mistake, and celebrated instead. In hindsight, I understand that the difference in fact was a transfer of points which constitutes a deliberate makeover of my intellectual profile.
I recall thinking I could always demonstrate a track record with a solid logic score if needed anyway. Evidently, certain agents thought about the same thing and made sure to modify all. When states communicate in this manner, it is not so much a threat as it is a promise.
This timeline exposes covert oppression of a law-abiding citizen in a country which on all official accounts is regarded as one of the best-functioning democracies in the world. It involves:
- Illicit Surveillance
- General Isolation
- Harassment on Street
- Exposure to Unnecessary Risks
- Manipulation of journals and official records
- Abuse of Dating Apps
“My first apartment in Malmö was a dim maze of deserted corridors under construction above a shopping mall … It was here I caught insomnia. It was here I almost died after a session of harassment with innuendos to the upcoming Swedish national commemoration day“
2022-02-17: The Blast [Exposure to risk, Break-in]
- December: Neighbour Admits Stalking [Background]
- October 14: Fascism in Scania – Suspicious Events Surrounding Holocaust Conference [Stalking, Provocation]
- September 15 2021: On Mindreading [Trolling, Exposure to risk]
- September 4: Fascist Altruism [Stalking, Provocation, Background]
- August 27: Casual Notes of Interest [Break-in, Signal]
- August 26: Summary: Obstruction Work Progress [Throwback previous harassment]
- August 21: A Very Swedish Coincidence [Exposure to risk: Car accelerates to hit me with benefit of doubt]
- July 9: Summary: Censorship on Reddit [Political background on denied posts]
- June 19: Lamentation on Poisoning [Throwback previous poisoning and Hacking ~ 1-2 yrs ago]
- June 4 Toxic Environment [Poisoning]
- June 3: Ongoing harassment to obstruct work progress [Snooping, Aggressive signals]
- May 1: Impostor Cop or Villain? [Snooping, Plotting]
- April 24: Computer Switched ON [Potential Break-in]
- Mars 25: Prestigious Academic Online Community – Comfy with the Far Right – Censors Divergent Opinion [Censorship]
- December 13: How I Lost My Hair Before it Happened [Break-in, Threat] – Lost ~1/5 of my hair but it grew back
- August 22: SAT Scandal [State intervention]
- June 19: I Quit Smoking with Poisonous Cigarettes [Poisoning]
- 2020-01-22 Slavoj Žižek & the Tinder Creep [Abuse Dating App] (creep quotes my hook-up lines more or less as I write)
- December 1-24: The Official Swedish Advent Calendar & Principles of Democracy-Adapted Power
- Theory & Facts about covert actions within democracies
- Modes of oppression
- Political background
- My Case – How I almost got Killed
- Intensification of covert harassment in Scania, Sweden
- Origins of harassment at Lund University
- Background Windows 11 & 12 (Part I); 16-24 (Part II)
- Theory & Facts about covert actions within democracies
- October 28: Another world
- On Complaints about noise in a ghost house
- 2019-02-06: Medical Journal Groundless Claim Grandfather Died of Rectal Cancer (2012-04-05) [Threatening incident]
- December 1-24: The Official Swedish Advent Calendar & Principles of Democracy-Adapted Power
- LOG WIKILEAKS’ UNFORGIVABLE LIBERALISM (Background)
- Ferrada de Noli /Libertarian books – Sweden chose to publish WikiLeaks’ Unforgivable Liberalism as an 87mb file. [Death, Hacking]
- Published a downgraded manuscript & Subsequently put the project on hold for weeks – Predictable hot seat:
- Meanwhile, two relatives dropped dead in direct connection to my visit.
- Work process obstructed
LOG WIKILEAKS’ UNFORGIVABLE LIBERALISM
“After a strange version of my book WikiLeaks’ Unforgivable Liberalism was first published, the publisher subsequently insisted in cosmetic changes, which for obscure reasons took forever, before it finally was republished. Under that time, one of my relatives died when I visited his family, another died closely thereafter. I dedicate this article to one of these gentlemen“The Cambridge Conspiracy
Throwback: Tweets by WIkiLeaks & Assange
More information about the book and free download here
I completed a manuscript worthy of wider circulation after minor changes – more commas and spellcheck would have made it. I sent it to Marcello Ferrada de Noli 2018-03-19 as a roughly 2.4 mb document. Links are functioning, all graphs and charts perfectly readable, no spacing issues – 280 A4 pages in total.
Ferrada de Noli /Libertarian books – Sweden chose to publish an 87mb file. First he published my manuscript without proper editing or my permission. His version was moreover extremely ugly – he actually managed to downgrade my raw manuscript and make key graphs hardly readable.
Subsequent editing was very awkward: Ferrada de Noli insisted he was under pressure and was short fused while I obviously was being pranked: Format changed and new pages started with a single line; insistence on 87mb font; links misfired etc. etc. The only way to make even the slightest of progress with these details was to unplug – then the dynamic bugs ended.
He blame shifted bugs his so-called editing and new format created. I made the updates while he stalled. Nevertheless, he made minor changes without telling me. I spotted it right away, and confronted him but he never gave any good answers. Clear provocations but I maintained my cool without showing any signs of stress. I politely insisted he should also publish an online version roughly the same size as the initial manuscript.
When I arrived to my home city, and people dropped dead, Noli had a conversation with me. He said he was ill – that his head was spinning as we spoke. I calmly communicated that I hoped he would get well soon. He refused to publish the edited version by referring to details, and that I should change the first punchline of my book ‘This book shows that journalism on the Assange case in the Swedish nation-wide press is propaganda’.
I ignored the publisher’s talk about the future of my publications, my academic career, manuscript or his connections. I laid low, played along, but communicated my findings with journalists, political organisations, acquaintances, social media etc. I proceeded by publishing a normal-sized book, accompanied with metadata on the formal 87mb version. Further references to these dark events were also made in The Cambridge Conspiracy.
In the end he published a roughly 36 times bigger version April 11. That remarkably useless size only added minor changes which could easily have been done within days the first time around in March.
It is indeed a sad sign of our age that Noli was the only academic who even bothered to reply to my very modest requests, where I expressed gratefulness for comments of any kind. Including Chomsky who I sent almost rhetorical questions, and is well-known for answering, and other recommended academics. However In the former case I used a more upfront tone. In the latter case, the person who made one of the recommendations turned out to be a crook.
The normal thing to do is of course to answer questions, whatever you may think about the person. It is actually the duty of academics to do so, and was how colleagues I used to know acted when I was in academia. Not answering a ‘colleague’ is a crude statement.
This bs happened while writing a book about media, with references to 19th–century critique from one of the most acclaimed Swedish writers. At least all kinds of people have become aware of these events and their ramifications.
December 2021: Neighbour Admits Stalking
I have exposed harassment and torture over the years. Quite naturally, malefactors have tried to ignore or deny their involvement when confronted, even when it has been ridiculous to do so. But a day in December, one of my bald neighbours finally admitted.
My first apartment in Malmö was a dim maze of deserted corridors under construction above a shopping mall. The whole complex was connected with endless staircases and weird angles. The stuffy atmosphere was marked by a grave silence on the afternoon, occasionally disrupted by shady figures by night, reluctant to meet, as if practicing social distancing, years before the plague. I ended up here as a result of being sacked on short noticed by a person who once pretended to be my friend. It was here I caught insomnia. It was here I almost died after a session of harassment with innuendos to the upcoming Swedish national commemoration day. It was impossible to sleep daytime due to the loud grinding and drilling, and instinct told me to stay away anyway.
I currently live in a comfy flat with a nice view over one of the most visited parks in Sweden. It is located at one of the cultural spots in Malmö with plenty of bars, small shops, restaurants, cafés and a decent marketplace with affordable fruits and vegetables.
But a high-frequency noise was the first thing to truly welcome me over half a decade ago. Soon I realised that this was going to be a rather empty place as well but I would not move a third time nearby considering the location and the possibilities in the neighbourhood. The first person to visit my flat commented my very friendly neighbour. The same person who acted strange and hardly saluted when we met. I have grown accustomed to people refusing to say hello, but it is the first time a neighbour displays wicked Janus-faced hostility by being friendly towards my guests while ignoring me. The asocial neighbours at the maze were at least consistent. One summer there was a minor gathering in the garden. I was in good mood and greeted but was completely ignored. The neighbours who acted somewhat habitual at first are almost never seen. On average so far, I see them a couple of times per annum each. I am uncertain if some of the apartments on my stairwell actually are inhabited.
After a while an English-speaking fellow moved in above me next to bearded Janus-face. One of the first things he did was to bang on my door, screaming, while I was in the shower, claiming my speakers were too loud. Strangest thing, because there was no loud noise while I was in the shower. Moreover, I measured the loudness and it never registered above conversation level. Furthermore, it was before 22:00 – nation-wide silence time. The sounds could hardly be heard from the adjacent room with open door. I tricked him into saying that he heard loud music when I had muted the stereo, he was full of it.
The bald neighbour on the first floor took a different approach. He saluted, and so did his male friends when they left his flat. His demeanour was disconcerted, agitated, bordering aggression. I started to think that these men showed up way too often, when they went in and out, than statistical inference would suggest is reasonable. But I made sure not to act on those sentiments. The difference between unlikely and impossible commands respect after all. Then he woke me up one night by ringing my door-telephone, claiming he lost his keys. Next, he beat all the odds and apparently stalked me one summer. There is no other accurate description.
Rather naturally I had enough of this sort of misbehaviour and started to ignore my neighbours. They took notice and confronted me for my insolence. Even bearded Janus-face showed up with energetic greetings, but this change may partly be because his boss spent some time with me. Bald stalker derailed and acted out his aggression when I ignored him.
One of my missing neighbours showed up and confronted me with a flair of triumph. I simply responded with a sample of the misconduct and moved on. But I did not even bring up break-ins with messages; pranks by locking the common laundry room with my personal apartment-number engraved lock – which of course attracted complaints; or the disappearance and reappearance of clothes; newly-washed clothes smelling dog urine etc.
At the end of the year Bald stalker was on a streak again and even approached my laundry with a bowl. Then, one night, when I was on my way out, he made sure to intercept me with his dog exactly when I passed by his door. I confronted him and he got agitated. I insisted until he suddenly confessed along a completely new dimension of weirdness. He rambled about faith and asked if I was a believer. Reluctantly I disclosed my atheism, whereupon he shouted: Then you will only see me until you start believing! I told him that he was completely stupid and moved on. He followed me and I reiterated my honest assessment while checking my mail. At this stage he was quite incoherent and erratic but I made sure to reiterate my remark before ignoring him, and moved on for a second time. He has by and large stayed away since.
The stalking of the bald missionary clearly involved more profane intentions, but that alone is not the nastiest aspect. This is a person who confessed awareness of my solitude and desire to prolong it, unless I agree to something contrary to reason and conviction. At the same time, he has proven to be very informed about me and my whereabouts, and has consistently aimed to take advantage of my misfortune in word and in actions. He should in other words know that I am completely uninterested.
Obviously, these hostilities also are provocations which would make me look bad if resolved with violence due to political considerations and prejudice – about disposition of being narrow-minded in particular.
2022-02-17: The Blast
A couple of weeks earlier, on my way to a distant park I frequently visit, I noticed a pile of steel pipes against the façade of the residential building on my right-hand side, when I turned around a corner. Moving forward, I noticed a pedestrian on a trajectory towards me, and I instinctively chose to evade him on my left-hand side, away from the more straight-forward route between him and the steel against the wall.
Shortly thereafter, I noticed a worker in earmuffs who managed to disrupt the formation with a terrifying clank, as the pipes dispersed, exactly when I was next to him. Had I chosen wrongly, I could have suffered hearing impairment from the horrific reverberations of concrete against steel in sudden disarray.
I immediately recalled that most annoying incident when I saw a big trailer stationed on my way to visit my third pharmacy for the day, on an unsuccessful quest to get proper foot-massage equipment. The trailer looked more and more as a huge speaker forming an echo-hallway of steel, wood and glass from the display windows on the right-hand side. Window shopping on that particular spot appeared as an exceedingly menacing prospect which could alter my consumption patterns at the pharmacy on the other side of this temporary commercial passage. In the event of an accident, my feet would seem all the more as a luxury problem this morning.
I crossed the street, looked to my right, anticipating a resolution which either would mean salvation from physical harm – but with sinister minor repercussions on the likelihood of organised evil in the world, if I indeed was correct – or a silent judgement of my common sense if I turned out to be wrong. A cyclist caught up with me and I watched how his tall contour against the coloured trailer background quickly shrunk with a wriggle, as to ameliorate the invisible impact from a heavy steel object against the floor inside the trailer, exactly when he was parallel to me. The poor man looked alarmed but continued. Luckily for him, he was not a pedestrian making the wrong decision as a consequence of trusting deceptive authority or common misconceptions, instead of plausible conjectures based on experience, reason, and indeed knowledge, of the current state of the world.
When I confronted what appeared to be a Norwegian chap carrying out his duty inside the van, I noticed a sizeable steel pipe or pole on the floor.
When I get home, I find my alarm clock on the floor. Fortunately for me, I had no reason to feel taunted by the sudden breakdown of communication at the video-link meeting, shortly thereafter, which made the rather amused guest speaker unable to hear others.
December 13: How I Lost My Hair Before it Happened
According to medical sources, hair loss is normal after recovering from fever or illness. Because I had symptoms which correspond to serious COVID-19 infection about a month earlier, it is not unnatural with hair ‘falling out in large clumps’ as the American Academy of Dermatology puts it. The remarkable thing in my case is, it would seem I lost my hair before it happened.
I had a visit from my older sibling, who has been unsupportive of me but more supportive of the hierarchical system that has worked to ruin me. However, I looked very much forward to hang out with my nephews who at the age of barely 6 and 10 still managed to kick my ass in their favorite tactic game Among Us (not only aptitude as they cheated by disclosing the rules strategically).
The water flow in one of the toilet pipes was weak when my guests arrived. By the time they left, the pipe of my lavatory basin was completely blocked. I took farewell at the station nearby their hotel, and planned to take care of business as soon as possible. Once home, I immediately noticed an anomaly. Someone had taken out the bag of trash. The same bag I explicitly thought I would not take, as I reached for it on my way out to the station, because I was in a rush.
When I opened the pipe a sausage of hair and slime crawled out. My severe Covid symptoms had emerged mid-November. I started to recover November 29 when I took my first long walk since. I had merely a cold by December 2 and had felt as good as ever since at least December 8. But I was tired when they departed, grew weary during the day, and started to lose hair shortly thereafter. This draining combination lasted several weeks.
Clearly, it is within the realm of possibility hair incidentally accumulated over time and finally fully blocked the lavatory pipe, exactly the day my distant guests left; the very same day someone, bizarrely enough, burgled my trash; at the very moment I entered a phase of hair loss and somnolence. Possible, but not likely.
The sight grew with the context:
August 22: The SAT Scandal
The integrity of the Swedish SAT database has been compromised. I requested a certificate on my most recent SAT score for a job application. Although I specifically wrote that I did not need detailed information, only the score on the latest, a senior administrator sent me all tests. At first I was thankful for the information, but noticed flaws and reduced logic scores. I mentioned it, but also that it did not matter much now anyway, and wished the administrator well.
However, the administrator engaged in discussion by informing that the results were checked against a database, implying they were correct. I replied it meant that the database was at fault and became curious about who had access to it. The lead developer of the test stepped in and started a peculiar argument partly based on an idiosyncratic and narrow interpretation of what transposed means, effectively ignoring much of what else could be said.
I just made sure to state the simple fact that the database obviously was flawed as my name was misspelled on my best overall result. That although my logic score on the last test was registered as my best, it was in fact one of my worst. Finally I emphasised I would not even be discussing this issue, had not the administrator been excessively kind as to provide more information than I had requested and needed to begin with.
After a while they seemed convinced I am able to spell my name, and even declared they were ready to correct that particular error in their flawless database. I explained I did not care whether or not they thought that highly of me, but I wanted a certificate.
In the end I settled with contact information due to their unreliable information and wealth of excuses I will not even bother you with, unless you ask for it.
June 19: I Quit Smoking with Poisonous Cigarettes
I put an end to an era of procrastination concerning mathematical logic by ordering a serious book on the subject, and a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes to kick-start intense ruminations for months to come. I began eagerly, but felt a little bit out of shape the following day. I went to the kitchen window, looked over the park, lit a cigarette and inhaled. I was first struck by a sensation of a heavy nicotine-kick of the kind I had not felt since my teens.
The intense sensation persisted, and I drag myself to the bed, tired and slightly dizzy. After hours of sleep I decided to recover with Yakuza-film, good food and more rest. I tried to walk off the ominous sensation of a skin around my brain. I slept until the middle of the following day directly after the stroll.
What worries me today is that I had felt that skin before. It was on my way to a math exam as a student. I was encouraged ignore it.
Graffiti (no text) from Möllan-rotunda Malmö, Sweden.
Artist unknown to me
When I woke up I could at least declare that the Lucky-Strike Myth had some truth in it.
2019-02-06: Medical Journal Groundless Claim Grandfather Died of Rectal Cancer
If the current journal is accurate, the groundless claim that I once had a ‘grandfather who died of rectal cancer’, was written by a doctor 2012-04-25. In hindsight, it is a dreadful error considering subsequent developments. This is about a month prior to my insomnia, and subsequent harassment that almost killed me (See window 20).
Because I am almost never sick, it took me several years to find out about this. By then, a correction note was necessary because the groundless claim was documented in an obsolete journal system.
To be updated & continued
For more theory and background, visit Blog or Democracy-Adapted Power.
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