I am entirely to blame for Jimmy Savile assaulting, raping and irreparably traumatising hundreds of patients for whopm I was responsible.
As health minister I appointed him to a wholly fictitious, unnecessary and catastrophically misjudged position in an NHS establishment. There was no precedent for such an appointment and I personally am entirely responsible for all these people being sexually abused and worse.
I will now, of course, shut the fuck up, withdraw completely from public life
and donate my parliamentary pensions and the proceeds of my
dreadful, pornobook sales to Savile's and, I must say, my victims.
There is nothing I can say in my defence, except that as a minister and as a wife and mother I was kept busy with other matters of state.
Like sucking the prime minister's cock.
Like sucking the prime minister's cock.
56 comments:
Without wishing to unduly rise to the defence of the 'egg-woman', the Saville worm seems to have embedded itself in the guts of the NHS long before she got her hands near any levers of power.
I am glad to see that it was just the NHS and the prison service who were responsible for Savile being able to indulge in a bit of casual beasting and that the BBC and Royal family are off the hook.
No, mr mark, they are not. Stay tuned.
It was Currie, mr sg, who appointed Savile to lead change in Broadmoor, a ministerial gift, unprecedented, unsurpassed in the long-standing, cynical abuse of patients; she should be in Holloway, the slag.
Unfortunately she is the sort of woman who would flourish in Holloway.
That photograph with the thighs is a bit much Mr I, at tea time.
Now look here, Mr. I., you can't just throw in a sentence like that last one without providing a lifeline to a measure of mind-bleach.
(Totters off uncertainly towards the decanter for a desperately needed early sharpener).
I'm not trying to defend Saville in any way, I always thought he was wierd, but the sheer scale of his actions is stretching my credulity. Its impossible for lots of people not to have known at the time, and even allowing for a huge conspiracy its hard to believe that something didn't leak at the time. He must have had plenty of enemies. And its not as if he was royalty, or a right honourable member, and therefore had to be hushed up.
We have a similar event here in Sydney at the present. Lots of lurid allegations at a Royal commission into historic abuse at a famous old school. I wonder if its being sensationalised - the 15 minutes of "fame" thing.
If you read this:
http://www.smh.com.au/comment/royal-commission-into-knox-grammar-sexual-abuse-peter-fitzsimons-retells-a-scandal-20150225-13oh1a.html
it stronly suggest tha allegations are over-egged.
I didn't know that Mr I. Staggering - even by the standards of the time it beggars belief - I wonder what his qualifications for the role were perceived to be?
Meanwhile, I have little light relief for you from a guy who spent 7 days holed up in a hotel watching Only Russian TV (spotted elsewhere). I admire his stamina - I reckon I would have only lasted two days (less if it had been our TV - I wonder what he would make of UK TeeVee):
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/22/magazine/out-of-my-mouth-comes-unimpeachable-manly-truth.html?_r=1
Should be easy to Google if you can't get the linky to work on the old 'Aye-Pad'.
She said, at the time, that she was having labour relations difficulties with the POA, the nurse/screws, a vicious lot if ever there was one, and that she felt Savile woukd sort them. She is a fucking idiot, Currie, like most of Thatcher's gang, as well as being a slapper. Nothing wrong with slappers. As long as they don't, as did she, peddle the happy family line.
Sorry,mr bungalow bill, what with Dame Esther's and Professor Germaine's likenesses it can be a right house of horrors, round here, sometimes.
Sorry, too, king caratacus, for the offence, not the most appealing image of erotica, is it? Think I need a drink, meself.
Yes - Dame Esther entered my mind too as I viewed that image. Though thankfully I was spared the image of the aforementioned Professor - until now that is. Fortunately I keep a supply of Mind Bleach handy - mostly from the southern Rhone (for medicinal purposes only of course).
There is a willingness to disbelieve, mr mike. Just look at how many must have known or suspected that their village priest or choirmaster or gym teacher was beasting but preferred not to. Look at the number of archbishops and cardinals who were complicit; look at my headmaster, Cholmondeley, damning his pupils for informing on a beasting teacher; look at the army high command, covering-up widespread, lethal bullying of its own men. And now, despite all that's happened, cuntish managers in the NHS still persecute whitsleblowers, the CPS still refuses to prosecute doctors and social services managers still dodge the bullets when children are abused or, as in the case of Rotherham, raped and pimped and trafficked.
I have no hesitation in believing that Savile committed many hundreds, perhaps thousands of serious sexual offences and that he was indulged and thus encouraged and protected by many in positions of power, in the NHS, in the PBC, in parliament, in the police and in the Royal family.
I will have a look at Noncing Down Under, thanks.
Saville he had no power, he was a fucking disc jockey. Yet he was able to go where he liked, do what he liked, no questions asked.
Many did hear, at least, of rumours. In 1990 I heard, from a friend of a friend of a friend, original source a junior doctor at Stoke Mandeville, that Saville had been caught fucking the stiffs in the mortuary but it had been covered up because of his charity work.
In 1990 I was, as I am now, a Joe Soap of a factory worker in Devon. If I`d heard something like that, what the fuck did people closer, people who should have known: what did they know ? And why did they not do something.
Cyril Smith, another flamboyant , always in the public eye cunt who had a vast hinterland of deviancy. I`ve only read the reviews of Danzuk`s book but it seems whenever low level coppers or journalists started to investigate Smith high ranking Plod would arrive and bully them into silence.
Yet Smith was fuck all: a buffoon MP of a joke party. He might have been God AlFuckingMighty on Rochdale Council, piss him off and you wouldn`t get a new dustbin but in the overall scheme of things, like Saville, he was fuck all.
So why the indulgence, the protection ? What lies behind or beneath ? Something very big and very bad.
The reports about Saville released to save Wysteria embarrassment with the kippers over immigration figures then double trumped by the Jihadi John stuff. Some spin doctor`s earned their CBE today.
Remember many threads ago, Mr Ishmael we talked about Lockerbie. This has the same, clammy, creepy feel to it.
Ergo they did have power Mr Yardarm. But why? Fucking why? You rightly beg the question. Maybe it has something to do with deference but I don't know. For every perpetrator there is a victim or two or three or four (keep going...).
Fuck, I must be ill as the Brooker Screenwipe thing seems to be improving, though maybe it was that medication I took earlier... Would be better with the Doug Stanhope cameo though.
Might it simply be, mr yardarm, that beasting and not horse racing is the true sport of kings and that we, the Joe Soaps, are insufficiently discerning in our bodily tastes? How did the turd, Rifkind put it, that we do not feel an adequate sense of entitlement, enough of a droit de seigneur, extending even unto infants.
Why do we have some Kiwi bitchlawyer for hire investigating Thatcher's New Model Nonce Army? Why do we have a Canuck crook at the head of the bank of England? Is there really nobody native, can do these jobs?
Even though he freed al Megrahi, Salmond insisted that he was guilty, tried by a panel of bent Scottish judges in the Netherlands, how could he be otherwise?
I, too, thought all that news today was a bif of a diversion, one way and another, rolling out those rudiculous bozos from CAGE, why now? Why the invented fuss about this trio of Islamototties, running away to somewhere? Who gives a fuck, girls and boys have been running away from home forever. I did it myself.
The someting very big and bad probably has homes in Gloucestershire and London, takes loads of holidays and is the prince of benefits cheats, tax evaders and beasters.
There is a willingness to disbelieve Mr I because that is how Powermoney educates us. Religion does a big part of the job by insisting that we should err on the side of forgiveness and indulgence and genuflect to the Men in Robes. There's a cheap joke somewhere about turning the other cheek.
These rapist bastards, these fuckers of the weak and the innocent even unto death are simply evil, just as evil as they always looked : we should trust our instincts.
They feast upon us because they can and because, in the end, and with our satire and our irony, we let them. God, I hate them and yet I know I will do nothing and never have. Let us hope braver ones come after.
By the way, I do not want an end to satire and irony, it's all the likes of me have left and it is not worthless.
Isn't it though that corruption is two minutes younger than power? They all do it. The new MP is fostered by the old hand and before he knows it a bit of score on a nod and a wink here, a cheeky expense claim let through there. The bright, young copper is let off his half-a-pint over after the lunch drive home. And then they are fucked for sure.
That it extends to beasting does not surprise me in the least. Although I do not doubt either that the compo-seekers inflate the numbers just as much as the broken ones hiding deflate them. The question we have to answer is why is it that a bunch of washed-up, dead and almost dead, third rate celebs are being thrown to the wolves these past two or three years? What is the calculation? It can only be surely that we are destroying the odd nobody to encourage the rest to keep their fat traps shut.
It need not just be our Abrahamism, mr bungalow bill, our revisionist Christianity. Even the atheist ethicist would urge that we believe the best of each other, until proven otherwise; the poet would remind us no man is an island and the joker would riposte that if you cannot bring good news then don't bring any. It is, I think, natural that we believe the best, at least of those who look and sound like us. Added to that there is the reluctance to believe in the presence of Wickedness, the urge to bury one's head under the pillow.
For a very long time, now, I have known enough, seen enough, to trust my instincts, be it Savile or Straw, Brian or Brenda, Chief Constable Gob or Lord Justice Slagg. Despite that, like you, I bear the New White Man's Burden - Learned Helplessness.
Our penchant for satire figures further on up the road.
Mr Mongoose: I suspect the calculation was to throw a few nobodies into the fire in the hope that would satisfy the mob, or at least buy time till we got bored and moved on.
As we discussed on an earlier thread the token offerings were the un-cool; not Keef or Polanski.
Meanwhile the Westminster investigation moves at glacial pace - BTW what differentiates the Westminster allegations from those of Rolf and Dave Lee? The one warrants a multi-million "inquiry" the other gets investigated by plod?
That is absolutely correct, mr mongoose, for the trail, once scented, would lead, I guess, to the Big House at the end of the Mall, to Number Ten, to the Supreme Court and to Lambeth Palace. Ruritania's Filthy Secret would be out - they're all at it.
We have differed, before, you and I, about the prosecutions of the likes of Harris and that arse, Travis and although I agree that such may be both diversionary and admonitory, they may yet pave the way to a wider, more unpredictable public consciousness. Good to see, for instance, that no-one has yet rolled over in the matter of Sir Cliff, a man much more popular than the rest put together.
The answer, mr mike, is that the Westminster beasting was by and in the precincts of senior politicos, not entertainers; needs a safe pair of hands, that particular full and far-reaching cover-up; a good lawyer, bought'n'paid for. By us.
Cliff Richard may be uncool compared with Keef or Polanski but he has a massive, massive, respectable fan base. The shit will fly if he's busted.
Exactly, Mr I, an inquiry designed to hide not reveal. The Cliff thing will be a touchstone, as you say. It probably depends on the courage/life-expectancy/ability to refuse a bribe of his second accuser. And Leon stepping off this mortal coil couldn't have been better timed.
I'm not hopeful.
PS that "Currie in blue dress" is the worst thing I've seen since you put up that image of "Greer the chimp". I'll have nightmares tonight.
I beg to differ Mr Ishmael. I don’t think that religion…any religion preaches that we must, first, see the good in others. Rather the opposite As far as I can see, and maybe more so these days we are taught that we are all horrible fucking bastards and that you should give in to those urges that urge you to do horrible fucking bastard things.
Those that lead us are all horrible fucking bastards and you have to be so to survive in this horrible fucking world.
I’m not saying that’s true and I’m very anti-that mind-set, because contrary to what was taught to me at school I believe it is more natural for a person to be good and the bad ones get fucked up along the way.
Having said that, Saville should be rotting in hell as we speak and that makes one chuckle. Pity about the unrequited rage of the ones he destroyed on his road there.
Nothing will come of any investigation by plod or junk commity.
If they can d-notice Dunblane for a hundred years…national security? Primary school children get shot to death?...National security? I don’t fucking think so…no I do not fucking think so..
What then do we make of Randy Andy Pandy's recent difficulty? That we have heard about it does, I admit, point to your more optimistic outlook.
It seems to me though that we are conflating. There must be a scale with evil at one end and idiot in the middle. It is not all the same. John Travolta touching up Scarlett was risible, might be reprehensible, might just be git with one too many Martinis, might be who-knows-what from way back when, when he was he and she was nobody. But it probably isn't anything at all. It seems to me that all of this is being rolled into the circuses part of bread and circuses. The vile hidden among, and now behind, the common-day idiocy.
Mr Mongoose - the word on the street is that Travolta bats for the other side and this was just a pathetic attempt to burnish his hetero credentials.
The Travolta touching Scarlett thing.. her current status is not harmed, as it would have been in her previous life as Scarlet the starlet, had she made the accusations then.
Travolta has started his decline..Scarlet is helping him on his way…bless.. Seems quite fair actually. Many other starlets previous to her would not have had the opportunity.
Randy andy pandy always had a bloated ridiculousness about him…and here is the proof. A middle age man being anywhere teenagers for the purpose of gratification is ludicrous..look at Fry for fuck sake…
It may be, too, that our brother in beasting, Mr Gadd, receives a call to frankness, in his cell, tonight and spills some beans; at seventy, even a promised few years off a sixteen-year sentence might loosen his lips, as well as ths sphincters of his erstwhile brethren.
Be that as it may, mr doug shoulders, no theologist, I but I would say that Christianity, at least, is rooted in forgiveness and neighbourliness and judging-not, motes and beams in eyes and so on.
I agree that the Anglican branch, in particular, is elastic in its approach to scripture, as is the government in the matter of same-sex marriage, for instance and that overall, in our lifetimes, there has been a groundswell of what we call permissiveness, some good, some bad. I don't believe any of this refutes my point that we are, even now, encouraged to forgive, to understand, to turn the other cheek and are thus institutionally reluctant to immediately damn the damnable.
I try not to drink at lunchtime Mr Ishmael, but your conjuring the vision of Currie and Major dancing `the shaking of the sheets` has sent me staggering towards the decanter. Keep up the good work, though. You are our Juvenal.
Much of what you mention, mr mongoose, is the result of EverNews, of the need for NewsProduct, of skymadeupnewsandfilth and its voracious appetite, renewed every twenty-four hours, for something, anything with which to fill the programmes and which, consumed incautiously, leaves us all with that feeling of Learned Helplessness - Tsunami, beheading, abduction, corporate larceny, serial killings, political hypocrisy, scandal, incompetence and wickedness; there is so much about which we should be vexed that we cannot be constructively vexed about anything; no sooner are we incensed by Eric Pickles's greed than some other omnibus of graft comes along and we concentrate freshly upon its passengers, again, again, again, again, again, again, again, deeper and down, down, down, deeper and down.
Spectrumising it, therefore, is nigh impossiblem, such a welter of rumour and sigh, of hint and innuendo and then of inevitable full and far-reaching cover-up. As mr doug shoulders reminds us, if we can officially obliterate the Doings at Dunblane then we can certainly protect the Royal Family from the Truth. And yet, in this case, we now know enough to damn the Duke of York for a rotten beast and fair trial be damned.
My passing knowledge, mr mark, is also that Mr Travolta is like everyone else in showbusiness, either homosexual or over-zealously heterosexual or both.
I am sure that his Scientology will comfort him and protect him from any criticism of his slobberiness. A good punch in the gob's what he needs.
Speaking of which, whoever handles this poor old lady who fell down the Brit-steps, they really should put her in a place of safety; not only unseemly, it is dangerous for a senior citizen to be carrying-on so.
Too kind, mr alexius, much too kind.
Are you quoting Status Quo there Mr Ishmael?
Yes, mr doug shoulders, I thought it apt - down, down, deeper and down.
But there you have it, Mr I. There is no need to put Travolta on a spectrum. Just slap his idiot face and let's move on. I think that a great number of these past encounters might have been similarly dealt with. That would clear the decks so that we could see the true monsters.
That's what I meant, mr mongoose; we are invited to form an ongoing judgement about disparate matters, with the result that we can judge none. ISIL is as bad as Putin is as bad as Snowden is as bad as Gary Glitter is as bad as Lance Armstrong is as bad as the floods is as bad as house prices rising or falling is as bad as benefits cheats is as bad as zero hours contracts is as bad as Malcolm Rifkind is as bad as Chelsea supporters in Paris. Like Hamlet, we are played, our strings fretted, our pipes stopped.
Sometimes, up all night, leaning on the windowsill, looking online at the UK newspapers, I think Fuck this, if I want something decent to read, I'll have to write it myself. Surely, that's not right.
It's the forgiveness of power and the damning of the powerless which has made religion historically disgusting though it's fair to say that there are strong biases to the poor in Christianity, particularly in the developing world, which are inspiring. I've always rather liked the saying of the troublesome South American priest Helder Camara: "when I feed the poor they call me a saint, when I ask why the poor have no food they call me a communist".
Nice, that, mr bungalow bill.
I was watching an American academic on RT. Hah, he scowled, all they ever say about Martin Luther King is that I have a dream speech, as though that's all us black folks need to do, keep on dreaming, dreaming about things being better, they don't have to actually get better. I knew exactly what he meant about the failure of the Civil Rights movement but things are better than they were, thanks often to some mad, radical priest
.......for rulers like to lay down laws
and rebels like to break them
and poor priests like to walk in chains
and God likes to forsake them.
I've just looked that up. So good I thought for a moment it might be the glorious madman William Blake. I will have to listen to these people who you've mentioned several times, even if I don't like the music the words should be worth it.
I've listened to October Song. Lovely. As you've rightly noted most of the sixties was a lie but stuff like this gives you an ache.
It must be the case, Mr Ishmael, of massive, institutionalized beasting at the highest levels of the establishment.
Andrew: why would he hang around a convicted nonce like Epstein unless he too is a nonce or he has been surrounded by nonces, Royal Household, Parliament etc since Day One and sees it as perfectly normal to socialise with such characters ?
The fallen leaves that jewel the ground, they know the art of dying....
The bent twig of darkness grows the petals of the morning....
The new moon is rising, the angels are washing their windows....
And if you cried, you know you'd fill a lake with tears.....
And now all my wine is water; to her, my wine is water, ah-ah, water, and my pearls are clay......
Riffs, reels and ragas, mr bungalow bill, is how I used to describe the music; the very first world music ensemble and where the words came from I surely don't know. Robin Williamson, the more lyrical of the partnership, claims that some songs just arrived, fully formed, in a dream. Darling Belle is one such, the tale of a WW1 Edwardian lady fiancee, the type we used to see, rubbing a lonely, unaccompanied engagement ring, widowed before marriage by Haig and Hermann, yet faithful unto death - Now, she sits in her brother's widow's house, skin like a lizard, aura like a daffodil, migrant guest, from relative to in-law, she stares, she stares, into the embers and remembers.
A lengthy piece in a complex musical setting, part rock-band, part Ely Cathedral organ, it would break the heart of a fucking wheelbarrow.
Williamson and Mike Heron, together with early producer, Joe Boyd, make Lennon, McCartney and Martin look like dummies, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Try Red Hair, Gently Tender, Painted Chariot, Waltz of the New Moon, Darling Belle, Cold Days of February, First Girl I loved, My Name Is Death, Mercy, I cry, City; The Mad Hatter's Song and just listen to the finger cymbals on Painting Box. For starters.
The Incredible String Band is Scotland's greatest and most influential musical treasure. And whaddaweget? we get the Everly Brothers from Hell, the fucking Proclaimers, screeching their mutant heads off.
Yes, it must be, mr yardarm, there is no other rational explanation for such behaviour. I am trying to put a post together, just now, on the subject but it really is overwhelming; it is beasting at the so-called highest level, hiding in plain sight.
Some cunt from the PBC, Steve Hewlett, is doing what he calls an investigation of the relationship between the Battenbergs and MediaMinster; the smug, useless fucking git is wittering on about press secretaries when he should be asking Why was Prince Brian so very, very close to Sir Jimmy Savile. Cowardice, thy name is British journalism. The Australians think that when it comes to printing what the Battenbergs tell them the British media pack is a fucking joke.
Thanks for that Mr I. Only 50 years or so late, I'll get started.
I was fifty before I heard of Pallestrina, Byrd, Monteverdi; in my forties before I saw a Rembrandt; I have never sat in a Range Rover, played a Fender Telecaster or been to the ballet but at fifteen I laughed my head off on the deck of a tramp steamer, battling a winter gale in the North Atlantic, while around me seasoned seamen were throwing their guts up.
None of us can know, mr bungalow bill, what we don't know and if chance casts something worth knowing our way then later is better than not at all. Maybe the road of excess does wend its way to the Palace of Wisdom.
Someone sent me a book by Philip K Dick, recently, and my previous ignorance of his genius shamed me, so it goes.
When utilizing spidey senses the question always has to be: "Is this string significant, or is it just something which grows out of coincidence?"
Here's an example. In December 2014 it was finally possible to convict Charles Napier of historic sex abuse. It was the depressingly regular pattern; a man with the objective of child sexual abuse obtains a job in a school with plenty of unsupervised access to boys. He then sets about grooming them and the rest of the staff. The purpose of grooming is two-fold; to make exploitation easier to carry out because the victim is less likely to complain, and to confuse the issue so that if someone should raise an alarm, it becomes very difficult for the average person to say whether a complaint is real or malicious or a misunderstanding.
In the case of Napier, he also happens to be the half-brother of an MP, and was treasurer of PIE for a while. This gives him spidey strings to the Conservative Party as well as previously-mentioned people including Harriet Harman etc.
If you drew a spider diagram with him at the centre, there would be an impressive corona of establishment names. This might mean that there is an establishment-wide conspiracy to abuse children. But it is also the case that PIE was (and is, in its remnants still is) remarkably good at connecting itself to idiots who think they are being academic when all they are really being is duped.
The general strategy is 'Capture the gate keeper'. I, for example, could be easily tricked by someone who does not mention sex in any way. I would think that they had no interest in the subject.
According to one testimony from Duncroft (on the skeptical Anna Raccoon site) while Savile did not do anything to her, she herself says that they were in a locked room to which Savile was (or said he was) the key holder. The elderly staff still do not appear to be able to understand that Savile should never, ever, have been given a key or allowed to be alone with the pupils. It does not mean the staff were colluding; it means they were silly people who could easily be persuaded by a con man.
(Normal) People find it very difficult to understand that much of the satisfaction from abusers is the control element, as it is with other con artiss. That is why CSE offenders are surprisingly willing to talk about their behaviour; it represents a control of the audience and is hence a score for them.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-30591158
A seasoned conspiracy theorist might note that by concluding the Napier case on 23 December, it was most unlikely to have any significant news coverage. It was only chance that Francis Wheen was prepared to give an interview that it got much at all. I only noticed it while scanning a conspiraloon site, then checked the name. As google is removing links in obedience to European law, soon it will be invisible.
Edwina is indeed a fucking idiot. But look at then number of deluded idiots she managed to persuade to marry her. Do alarm bells not ring in their heads? Apparently not.
mrs woman on a raft, baby, where ya bin so long?
Your silence prompted some enquiry, there is more such, on The Happy Sports News, back up the road a ways.
.........And where, pray, is our mrs woman on a raft? You betimes join her voyage and might, therefore, some intelligence venture; nigh two moons have passed since her last despatch and no tugging at her ghostly moorings her elegant whimsy doth revive or rejuvenate. Might she be lost overboard, jesting, now, with great Neptune, or waylaid, perchance, by Yorkists, during her last reported landfall; upon Christmastide she did there disembark and from thence a seasonal greeting did despatch; sombre and anxious groweth the heart at this absence. If thou seest her, sayeth Hello, she might be in Tangiers.
2 FEBRUARY 2015 AT 20:21
Yes it is so often the role, the theatre involved in the beast's deliberately chosen trade- priest, teacher, musician, which helps suspend the normal suspicions and in a way makes exciting what would otherwise be immediately revolting. I missed the Napier sentence, albeit that I was not overly involved in festivity, no York pub crawl for me. Sounds about right, though, your analysis; I sometimes think we should rigourously psycho profile anyone who seeks such a role, teacher, choirmaster, prison officer and I am less averse than many to the idea that school and camp and church volunteers should undergo criminal disclosure checks. The Sidney Cooks, however, the murderers of Jason Swift, ian and Myra, these are snatchers, rather than groomers and, I suggest, a different kettle of worms, nest of vipers, can of beans; hard to defend against a snatcher who will use and then kill the evidence; none of the recent, high profile beasts have been killers; the rumours about MediaMinster noncing, however, the Palace, the Home Office, the Lords Lieutenant and the braying Thatcherites, organised beasting, not even grooming, just rape, drowning, beating, these are of a different order, murder most foul, no wonder that Tracey May hesitates so.
Welcome back.
Yes, I was in Yorkshire. There was a time when the county used to go to sleep in the dark months but it makes so much of its tourism and home-sourced food these days that it barely has a few days dozing around the new year, then it is back in action.
It is the air - well, in North Yorkshire - which is remarkable. You can feel it pushing oxygen through each breath, fresh oxygen just breathed out by a tree. It is baffling why so many Yorkshire folk remain professionally gloomy when it feels like laughing gas.
Workers in, say, the pharmaceutical or engineering industries, ordinary shopfloor workers, on the minimum wage, are under great pressure to comply with rigorous quality standards and to achieve output targets and fuck help you if you drop a bollock or fall behind. Fuck help you if you end up down the Jobcentre trying to get some back what you paid in.
But not the likes of Edwina Currie and hundreds, thousands like her; politicians, civil servants, coppers. Elected by us or appointed on our behalf, paid by us to stop these things happening.
And the kneepad Quislings who have colluded or are colluding or downright participating in illegitimate war, bankster love as well as industrial scale beasting and Christ knows what else. Where`s their sanction ? Their punishment ?
Currie may not be a nonce but was utterly incompetent and there were serious consequences. Contempt on the media for indulging in her shameless look at me ism when they should just keep asking if she was so obsessed by John Major`s cock was she negligent over Saville ? " So Edwina, do you think you`ll go down in history as Major`s cock holster or Saville`s Mate ? A few doses of that and we`d never see her again.
As fuckling if, as our host would say. The media being part of the problem. I enjoyed Rifkind`s whining like a brat over his damned entitlement but he and Straw`ll end up in the Lords and be open for business as usual.
They will certainly be offered a TeeVee slot or two and a newspaper column, just to maintain their profiles. And people will read and watch them, as they do, tut-tutting about rising crime.
Why is nobody asking Tebbit any questions about his role in NonceGate? Oh, but he's a peer of the realm, and a respected columnist, the filthy, thieving decrepit old ponce. Still, be nailing him down soon, for his state funeral. I keep loads of champagne for these occasions, toast the bastards' journey to Hell.
Years ago I had a few hours to kill in Seattle so I took the bus downtown and wandered the streets coming to a bookshop. I say 'bookshop' but it was more like a 'Clintons cards' type affair. Cheap, discounted proto-pulp in bins.
There, by the hundred for notalotabucks was a book by David Icke. 'The Truth Will Set You Free'. Probably only a couple of dollars. I really don't remember. And I had a ten hour or whatever flight back to the UK.
Just the job for a laugh.
It is/was basically a compendium of every conspiracy theory known. But one that stuck in my head was the allegations of noncing and murder levelled at the royal family and certain celebrities. Savile might even have got a personal mention but I gave the book away a long time ago so I can't check.
How I laughed at the ludicrous claims of the purple clad clown.
And while I'm still unconvinced by his claim that the earth is hollow and there's a giant sun in the middle illuminating those who live on the inside walls of the planet he does seem to have been up to speed with the high-level child abuse and institutionalised noncing.
It's a bit of a worry when something that makes you take David Icke seriously comes along.
Perhaps he's like Private Eye. In the sense that (and I know you have no time for Hislop) we cannot say we weren't warned. Private Eye, with every edition, tells us of the utter incompetence, waste, cover-ups and general fuckwittery at large in the body politic, Fleet Street, the NHS, the civil service, the corporate world and we all read it, believe it and then promptly do fuck all with the information. Except maybe a snide or sly allusion on a blog such as this or down the pub.
One of the most troubling aspects of the whole thing is - we can't say we weren't warned. Icke has been on about this for years. And openly daring the powers that be to sue him.
On my father's side I am Norseman, Norman-French, English, Lowland-Scot and Plantation Ulster-Scot and on my mother's, Highlands Scot. I didn't know all this until relatively recently. The North, though, has always drawn me, mrs woar, and the plan originally was to move to North Yorks or maybe Northumberland. I don't know if it was the oxygen or if it was the blood, the swords and the stones. If, way down inside, you feel the same, you should try Orkney. The Romans were never here and my Goodness, it shows.
Good to see you, too, mr jgm2. Sorry, just noticed your comment. I was just saying most of this on another post, strange coincidence time. Shitegeist.
It's not the Eye, it's Hislop, they are nor one and the same; indeed he says that it edits itself but as I have been saying in another other post, there're only two hundred or so thousand of us who read it - nothing, we do just chat about it, amongst ourselves. There might, iuncluding families, be half a million or so Eye readers but it's as nothing compared to the Sun.
Anytime I have looked at Icke - rarely - he seems bang on the money and I was just, from other reading, mentioning the Palace connections to Dolphin Square and Elm Guest House. And raging.
Maybe we can pursue this if you kindly take the time to read the Ruritanian News, just up the road.
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