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Gang Stalking: My Personal Story, by Stefan Fobes

by Stefan Fobes (
December 27, 2008

Gang Stalking: My Personal Story, by Stefan Fobes (Dec. 27, 2008)

A key method intelligence agencies use to gang stalk and conduct surveillance

Life has been....rather something interesting for me. My life story would definitely take a book to put up in its full detail and context. So I'll just go over this in a nutshell. I was born out of marriage, or as they call it popularly, out of wedlock, to Marie Jacques Graceline Lherisson, later Jacqueline Fobes, and the brother of the current Haitian ambassador to the US, Leopold Joseph. The Fobes family is bigtime bloodline. Just check out these genealogy. The story I'll tell will be, to the reader, quite unbelievable, just to understand the sheer scale of how desperate the intelligence agency/Satanic network is to keep a lockdown on people born into their families. From top to bottom, you will understand how they stalk a target in a big city. In my case, New York.

You must understand that the Illuminati own the public school system lock, stock and barrel. If you put your kid into one of those camps, you understand good and well that you've got the neighborhood and community Satanists, intelligence agency operatives, and a big stew of informants. My elementary school, in New York City, where I went to, the Manhattan New School, was loaded with agency operatives. And most likely still is. Through the system where messages are relayed from point to point through the above listed types of people, my own life was made miserable through sending the children of the local Satanists to rough me up every chance they got, while the "teachers" looked away. Not all the children have to be Satanists to get that sort of job done. If enough people in the right positions make fun of someone and pick on someone, pretty soon, everyone else will too. Or at the very least won't do anything to stop it for fear of looking unpopular too. The names of some of the Satanist teachers at the time I went there are Judy Davis, Kevin Tallat-Kelpsa, Layne Hughes.

Operatives, or those accessible by operatives, are all over the place. Really, it's not all that hard for the intelligence agencies to access someone to do what they want to do. I read that story written by that total retard just fluffing gang stalking, and it just made me cringe, especially the part that just laughs off the part about stalkers living near targets. From my experience, I'd say at least, a quarter of all apartment rentals are taken up by operatives from the CIA/NSA/etc, who don't necessarily live there, but hold the space itself to be used for spying purposes at certain times. They generally prefer to get window apartments, in order to see which way their target is going, whether it be by foot or by car or bus or what have you. These spotters can be out on the street in about two minutes at the least (I've timed it), and they are extraordinarily sadistic, although if you have or develop a reputation of being a bit violent or rough around the edges, attempts at pickpocketing you or stealing your money will stop. An intelligence agency spotter will, on one of their little missions, stand wherever they feel they need to to get the job done, even on the steps of a building they don't live in. They seem to project an aura of invisibility, which is enhanced by the nature of cities. Most people do not notice everyone else, even most police officers, so busy are they in the rat race of life, and they could, theoretically stand just about anywhere all night long until the right people are notified and they are questioned as to their business. They even stand in front of and even loiter inside buildings waiting for people they are spying on, buildings that they don't live in, and not be seen as suspicious by the occupants simply because in the big cities, no one knows their own neighbors at all, and don't even care to, such is the raw amount of TV bread and circuses to be awaited in the living room.

These intelligence agency spotters also have their little cars of course. Real nice cars. I'm talking Lexuses, shiny new SUVs, which are company cars. Generally they use cellphones to communicate, although I am seeing lately more of a trend towards iPhones. They also wear wires. They come from all ethnicities, White, Black, Hispanic. Even people as old as about 60 are used, and as young as 16. Although Whites are used the most, and then after that Hispanics, and then after that Blacks. Although, if a person is seen as trusting only Black people, they will switch over to using mostly Black minions. Any researcher on the FBI's COINTELPRO program understands that there are no shortage of accessible Black men and women to do this work. They dress almost without exception in dark colors (navy blue, grey, black) and a couple of them I have seen even wore full suits. They always travel in at least pairs. Whenever you see one, there's another somewhere close by. You will notice them on the job by their robotic way, like an organic lighthouse, the way the move their head left and right, over and over and over looking around, cellphone or iPhone in hand. If they are walking on foot they have either knapsacks, or with the women, handbags. I have never gotten the opportunity to find out what is in them yet.

This at first, when they are more complacent and they do not yet realize that they are being seen by their target in their activities, is easy to see if an eye is kept on the environment and know how to recognize patterns. During this stage, as soon as they saw me, well, then they would detatch themselves from where they were sitting or standing and get right to walking. Also, when seen, and it is made clear that it is understood that they are there, they generally either do one of several things. The first is to start talking into their phone to their operator in a sort of code that sounds like regular conversation. If they have a wire, they also might put their hand to their ear and start talking to their operator. Tinted windows on cars are a favorite because they are far less likely to be seen by sharper eyed targets. If the spotter gets extra spooked, he will call backup, which usually consists of two men who "seem" to be engaged in conversation, but no matter how engaged the two seem to be in their talking, one always has his eyes riveted on the person he is spying on. After it is determined that there is no harm to the spotter, these two men will split up in opposite directions. The same tactic will be used if discovered, if two spotters are on foot in a stationary position close by together.

Another way to enhance the spying is, in the course of the spying, go into stores where the person they are spying on goes to frequently, and then contact the manager or owner or whoever is on duty at the establishment most often, and then tell them that the person they are spying on is a criminal, or involved in something shady. Or they may just get full agents jobs in the stores themselves to keep an eye on things. A rumor was spread through to the gangs and drug dealers at my high school by my half-brother Michael Fobes, who has extensive connections into the illegal drug trade and Arizona and New York gangs, that I was a police officer, and that I had weapons hidden in my coat. I don't need to tell readers just how dangerous that was. When these people want to try to control someone, everything they got will be used to undermine that person's quality of well being in daily life, and these are just some of the tools of the trade, albeit the most basic and fundamental ones.

After a spotter tries to skip off, they will always look over their shoulder with a angry or suspicious look on their face, or suddenly stop in the middle of the street and then pretend to look in a store window. One woman a couple of weeks ago did this, smiling all the way like she thought she was important and smart. If they know they are being followed, they will try to shake a person by going into a store, hoping that their quarry will get tired and try to go back about their previous business. Every single mannerism, look, gesture, and physical movement, no matter how slight is watched sharply and reported back to their handler, who then gets the data crunched, and passed between the nodes of the surveillance network where it is brainstormed and then a new strategy formulated based upon the most current data. Strangely enough, they seem to like to be seen as ninjas or something and will also wait till they are out of my line of sight, and quickly move away to somewhere, as though to try to get the message to me that they are mystical. No you are not mystical, you are little imps who are being targeted for the same tyranny as everyone else, not knowing who you serve or what's coming for you.

Most of these people don't even know how fast it's coming, and for the ones who do, there is no honor among thieves, and if they think their bosses don't keep tabs on them and will let them live in a planned New World Order with their knowledge of agency operations and spying tactics, where they could grow to be a threat, they must surely believe in Santa, too. The people who will live and be subkings of little fiefdoms in the planned global dictatorship are already handpicked, and these poor foot soldiers aren't among the chosen and are seen as cattle just like every other "global citizen".

Robert Fobes                        

Robert FobesThe superintendent in my building, named Ed Hot, who hides behind that name and it isn't even his full one, and his wife, Sally Hot, are spooks. Two others in my building are as well, and there are a couple more in the building to the left and to the right of mine, as well as some accessible people in the construction company down the block who have a grudge against me for some silly little reason. My main problem, is that since I live with my mother's husband, Robert Fobes, throughout all of this, it has been difficult not to be tracked, and the elaborate procedures just to get out to get something to eat during the day would make any Vietnam vet groan with amazement. No joke. I would have gotten out long ago's short. Robert Fobes has a communication device on him which he then alerts his fellow intelligence agency operatives as to my comings and goings. He and his friends have also bugged the apartment we live in so that even when he is gone, the tracking attempts can still go on. The recievers for that equipment are in other operatives day apartments and it would be interesting to crack open their doors and see all of what was in there. This could all be easily proven in court by accessing the cell phone records of the people involved, where they just straight out plan and brainstorm and trade daily reports of the spying, so if you people want to sue me, go straight ahead. Let this all come out in court.

This all started to really intensify when I had 100% pinned down my half brother Michael Fobes as a key node in all of this. So when I confronted him on this, and then angrily hung up the phone, he showed his true colors, as I thought he would, and then tried to get me committed. In the intelligence agency/Satanic hierarchy, he and his wife Hellali Berlinger Fobes are higher than Robert Fobes and actually dictate orders to him. Robert Fobes, when in his agency mode and not hiding behind the senile friendly old man personality, is the most sycophantic, pathetic individual you could ever hear or see when talking to them. Yes. I understand. What do you want me to do. Ugh.

Another key tactic, just in case you were wondering, is to call up a potential employer of a person that is being spied and tracked, and tell them that they are a terrorist, a member of a gang, any sort of thing that will defile their reputation. This is why I am typing this here now.

The Fobes family have many reptilian shapeshifters in their clan. Robert Fobes proudly says in all seriousness he's a blood drinker, he worships Lucifer, and that he comes from a reptilian bloodline and that I have a human mind which is different from his. Even if most people cringe at this information, well, all I can say is just that I'm putting it out there. And to please take a look at a photo of the deceased Queen Mother of England sometime.

So this is how a typical day goes with the minions. When I leave, and Robert Fobes is in the apartment, the communications device is pressed, and from the neighborhood cracks and crevices spring out the spotters. They prefer the pincer mode of spying -- at least one person behind and one person ahead. They operate on a Matrix like system where the operator guides them where to go, working from the profile list of places where I regularly go. They are easily seen when you know to look because frankly, they have an unusually watchful look in their eyes and a demeanor about them that just screams fed. They will always park illegally, and always have their hands on the wheel. The street spotters are available 24/7, seven days of the week. Using this one ahead, one behind tactic, they can appear to be psychic to those who don't understand where all of it is coming from. Two years ago pictures were taken of me quite often, and then I was a little bit scared, but no trace of that remains now that I see the lack of vital strength radiating from the people involved in this. If readers could see some of the emaciated effeminate looking guys they put on me, they would be collapsing with laughter. These people are no talent hacks who probably never could get a real job in the first place. That's why they joined up with Big Brother. Why should anyone in their right mind, knowing this, be scared of them, no matter what their tracking capabilities?

I would suggest this be stored in people's minds very carefully because this may well be the way they use to track political figures and other people they have an axe to grind with in order to assassinate them.

Why they do this has something to do with my mother, who is seen as property by the Fobes family, and apparently (haha) they actually see me as property as well. She had the classic glassy eyes that you find so often when you look at photos of people who claim to be under mind control, and I suppose they want themselves a new "asset". Well, I love to disappoint you -- I'm no one's asset but my own. Why do I put this out, if I'm really in such a position? Because I don't like living like this, and no one else should. Besides, I've had a couple of near brushes with death, and I'm still here after all these 22 years and attempts to undermine my mind, and at the right times and moments, and with a LOT of use of passion and hard work, things just seemed to turn aside at the last moment, so I guess something somewhere has love for me. I want to set an example for anyone else out there who is living in circumstances like this to wisely find someone (or someones) accessible who has a big readership and get your story to them. Public exposure is the worst thing that could happen in these creatures minds, and the last straw on the NWO back.

Stefan Fobes

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