Sir Philip Green…..Speak up, or take the cash?

Most of us here in GB&NI who are observant, apathetic or even just plain bored, will be aware, abundantly aware, if the six-odd pages of today’s Telegraph are anything to go by: of the accusations and machinations of the charges and counter-charges of sexual abuse and bullying behaviour allegedly attributed to Sir Philip Green.

As I have no personal knowledge of Sir Philip’s habits or manner of conducting himself during business hours, I must obviously be guided by what has been published about this businessman. According to the large and detailed, but still legally anonymised, set of accusations against this man, he almost routinely attempts to dominate the staff around him, and also to denigrate any who either oppose him in any way at all; as well as indulging in behaviour which might go without murmur in past decades, but is very much frowned upon in these more litigious days.

Whether he is guilty of these accusations is for the courts to decide, and that is my singular point. All of these employees took great exception to being either allegedly manhandled, groped; or subjected to verbal abuse of the worst kind. They complained through the HR (Human Resources) department (which is, of course, the fancy new title for Personnel). Their complaints were taken seriously, and in the case of the five persons who form the basis of the Telegraph’s campaign against Sir Philip, seriously enough to warrant a pay-out of hundreds of thousands of pounds. They were also required to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements (NDA), legally drawn-up and of course; legally binding. The Telegraph’s campaign is based on the inability of these five people to break those agreements, and then speak out against Sir Philip Green within (presumably) the columns of the Telegraph.

But there is another side to this toxic story. As far as I am aware, if these people felt strongly enough about Sir Philip’s actions or words, they could have gone to the police. If the actions, and allegations were of such a serious nature, they could have gone to their local Police Stations, and levelled those accusations against their employer, and Sir Philip would have had to answer, through the courts, if such actions, alleged or proven, were found to be criminal. They could have gone to the Police, but instead they allowed themselves to be bought off; with sums which, to the average Briton, may sound stratospheric, but, in the worlds  of such as Sir Philip Green, are mere chump change. And that, folks, is the story in a nutshell, which the Telegraph is attempting to make into such a ‘big thing’.

These people may have feared for their jobs, but instead of having the moral courage to stand their ground, and force their employer to brought up on charges; they chickened out, took the money; and stayed Schtum. Instead of having the courage to stand with their convictions and principles, they buckled, accepted hundreds of thousands of pounds to settle their grievances, and signed up to the NDA placed in front of them. They all knew exactly what was placed in front of them; they all had legal advisers; in other words, no-one forced them to sign anything! The Telegraph, acting in the alleged cause of ‘fearless’ journalism, got hold of the story, and, as they tell it; advised Green that they had got hold of these five people who were legally silenced: and stated that they were running with the story, incomplete though it naturally was.

Sir Philip Green’s solicitors, a truly litigious bunch named Schillings, slammed an Injunction in the High Court, attempting to silence the Telegraph. After a long and vicious fight, done through letters, emails and legal exchanges, the High Court accepted the withdrawal of Sir Philip’s Injunction; but the Court also stated that the NDA’s were still valid, and if any of the five spoke out, removing anonymity, Sir Philip’s lawyers would and could proceed to demand all the cash back again, citing plain breach of contract, as well as other legal threats.

Now I have, in years long gone, come up against similar bullies, because that is what Sir Philip Green sounds like, although I again state that i have no personal knowledge of this particular man. But there is a type, and I have met them before. I was commissioning a large commercial project many years ago, and, for some reason, impressed the man, the managing director at the top of the developer’s team. He met me, and offered me a job on his management team, at three times the salary I was pulling down at that time. He stated that I could name my own terms, he wanted me because he could tell that I knew not only my job, but many other facets of engineering. I turned him down flat. He asked me ‘why’; presumably unused to being turned down for anything? I replied that he and I would last for approximately two minutes: he wanted someone who, when told ‘Jump’: asks “How High”! I would have turned around, and told him to “get stuffed’. I had watched him in action at Site Meetings, and if he had spoken to me in the manner he spoke to his underlings, he would have ended up in the casualty department of the nearest hospital.

But back to the Telegraph, and its attempted character assassination of Sir Philip. It is attempting to make a story out of rumour and hypothesis, and urging the people who were enriched by those NDAs to spurn the cash, and speak out. The only questions, truly, are ‘why did they take the cash in the first place?’ as well as ‘If Sir Philip’s actions and words were so terribly, terribly wrong, why not go to the police, instead of signing on the dotted line: and then attempt to be heard any way?’


Its an old semi-legal term, but still applies today: ‘You canna’ have your cake, and eat it as well: chummy!’

Hide the family portraits: Prejudice, not Pride

Our very history is written in stone, masonry, bricks and mortar; as well as money. From the fortified castles of the descendants of the Norman conquerors, onwards to the Plantagenets, Lancaster and York, through the divergence and Reformation turmoil of the Tudors,  the Stuarts; and the Hanovers, giving rise finally to the Windsors, the House which rules, in the typical British understated manner as a Constitutional Monarch, over the complicated slices of real-estate and people which travel under the acronym of GB&NI: Great Britain & Northern Ireland

To place this story in perspective, we must look at the principal protagonists, the beginnings of the families who built Industrial Britain, and also their homes and estates. The first Elizabethan Age was funded mainly through legitimised piracy, with freebooters such as Drake, Frobisher, Hawkins and Raleigh. As the ages progressed, trade was established on a more regular footing, but the Home Nations were still based largely on agriculture

From the very birth of the Industrial Revolution, there have only been two driving forces behind the vast spread of industrial processes, inventions, ideas and the literal revolution which altered Great Britain & Northern Ireland (GB&NI) from a small trading, mainly arable and agricultural Nation-State: into the Behemoth which was Georgian and Victorian Britain.

The first force? PROFIT: Making money! Very, very few ideas, inventions or processes were developed on an altruistic basis. 99% of the ideology, the demands of the first engineers which powered that Revolution were made or born on the basis that, by use of this new technology; or that improved process, things could be made cheaper, better, more accessible to the masses. It was profit, or the possibility of profit, which gave the impetus which drove mine owners to employ the engines of Newcomen and James Watt, so as to pump away the water which threatened production; and to raise ever more coal to the surface, and, naturally to selling that coal for both heating and the burgeoning industrial factories. The owners of the mines made ever more profit, and the industries which had sprung from the minds of Arkwright, of Trevithick and of Corliss spread their tentacles of work, of ever-more efficiency; but mainly of profit into every corner of GB&NI.

With the profits came the second of those primeval forces; the idea of dynasty, of establishing a Family whose wealth and prestige, made possible solely by hard work, invention and commercial inspiration, would last for generations. The original castles and stately homes of the old aristocracy were now joined by the new aristocracy, made of families brought new to wealth and power, and sufficiently astute to invest in new houses, new mansions  and huge estates and land holdings; which advertised the fact that the new owners, the new families, were here, and here to stay. The huge industries created by this ‘new’ aristocracy made money on a scale unheard of, and the families grew, and prospered. From bridges to ships, from canals to armaments to cotton weaving, the new leaders of the noisy, dirty revolution which brought work to millions married, brought children into their worlds, hoping that their new dynasties would prove as long, if not longer, than the ‘old’ aristocratic families.

The driving term, the word which outlasts all others is Family. The idea that a man and woman’s joint wealth, position and estate can and will outlast them both has been the driving force behind just about all Emperors, Kings and Queens and even the humblest of citizens can hope to establish a tiny sense of immortality, with a strong son or a daughter to carry on their name, to establish themselves either in a new continent, or further down the street in which they were themselves born. Family, the basic urge to procreate brought into civilisation, where children could live in a home together with a father and mother, and sometimes to learn, to listen to the words of their parents, and sometimes even to understand and accept that those parents sometimes knew better.

A typical example of the ‘New Wealthy’ was Sir Richard Arkwright. The Arkwrights are notable because the scale of the fortune amassed by Sir Richard Arkwright (1732-92), kt. and his son was so great that it not only founded four landed dynasties but ensured the cash wealth of his numerous descendants into the third and even the fourth generation. Three branches of the family which were founded by sons of Richard Arkwright (1755-1843), all of whom were set up in landed estates by their father. The family fortune, held in Richard’s own seat at Willersley Castle in Derbyshire, which passed to his third son, Peter Arkwright (1784-1866), and the other properties owned by Peter’s descendants.  At his death, each of his surviving sons received a large cash legacy as well as the estate on which they were established, and four of them – Robert, John, Peter and Joseph – passed on their property to their descendants. Peter Arkwright (1784-1866), the third son, who was a partner in the Arkwright bank, inherited the core Willersley Castle estate, and also much of his father’s remaining cotton-spinning interests.

But as the ages passed, so did the virility, wealth and power of those ‘New’ Aristocrats, and a further decline was brought about by the imposition of ‘death duties’ upon estates great and small, where estates held together for centuries were sold off piecemeal to cover the costs of the grasping taxman. As well as that, it was discovered that the vast palaces, the mansions of many rooms, were hard to heat, hard to repair and keep watertight, and so was born the idea of the National Trust. Three people, all of whom had well-developed social consciences, decided that a single charity be set up, devoted to heritage preservation; to preserve and protect both buildings and gardens, and to allow them to be visited by all who desired. Robert Hunter, one of the original people behind the idea of preservation, gave a speech at the National Association for the Promotion of Social Science, in Birmingham, in which he talked about the formation of a society to protect land.

He said, The central idea is that of a Land Company, formed not for the promotion of thrift or the spread of political principles, and not primarily for profit, but with a view to the protection of the public interest in open spaces in the country. The functions should include, the acquisition and holding of properties to which common rights are attached; the acquisition of manors … and the maintenance and management of gardens in towns as such, and the maintenance and management of any buildings connected with them as places of resort for recreation and instruction.

O n 12th January 1895, Hill, Hunter and Rawnsley founded The National Trust for Places of Historic Interest and Natural Beauty in England and Wales to set aside the best and most beautiful parts of Britain for the public and posterity, and to provide sitting rooms for the poor in the countryside. It is a registered company under the Companies Act. The Trust went from strength to strength, occasionally making bad investments, but mainly good. The Trust’s history can be viewed in these links, and, in this writer’s opinion, over the decades it has been active; has performed a useful and worthwhile purpose.

But strained times have come to the National Trust, care of certain of those who have been appointed to run this vast operation, so dependent as it is on the goodwill of the thousands of volunteers who give of their time, so that the Trust’s properties be maintained, and shown to the paying public.

Consider Cragside the former home of Lord Armstrong, the armaments industry magnate, was acquired by the Trust in 1977, and has been open to the public since 1979. It was the first private residence in the world to be lit by electric light, and it still features many of the ideas and inventions which helped build the Armstrong’s huge fortune. The Trust decided to give over £100,000.00 for an exhibition. Visitors to Cragside over the past few weeks were disappointed to find that a large proportion of the significant art collection at the Northumberland property and former home of Lord William Armstrong had been hidden behind white sheets while sculptures of men had bags placed over their heads. The Great Cragside Cover-up, which ended on a Sunday, was intended to shine a spotlight on the life of the Victorian engineer and industrialist’s wife, Lady Margaret Armstrong, as well as other women who lived at the country house, was one of a number of events at National Trust properties marking 100 years of women’s suffrage in Britain.

Consider also the reign of Dame Helen Ghosh, a typical QUANGO Queen Bee, who stated that the National Trust’s biggest threat was from ‘Climate Change’, stating that wind-turbines were rather beautiful things; but also ordered all volunteers at a ‘stately home’ to wear ‘Homosexual-friendly’ multi-coloured ‘Gay Pride’ lanyard tags which supported the LesbianGayBisexualTransgarbage which Dame Ghosh also has the hots for. Under Dame Helen in particular, the laudable original aims appear to have been abandoned. Forget beautiful buildings and landscapes; what now matters is imposing modern political claptrap on our greatest country houses. It is symptomatic of an organisation that no longer cares for history. But fortunately, Dame Helen got the hint, and walked away to another spell of ‘easy life’, picking up yet another huge salary as the titular head of an Oxford College.

We now have yet another weirdie poking her nose up out of the uncut grass, as we read that Rachel Lennon, public programmes curator for the National Trust, and also incidentally the face behind the Great Cragside Cover Up, has mourned the  emphasising the importance of families in stately homes as it “privileges heterosexual lives”.The past exclusion and misrepresentation of LGBTQ+ lives is a reality inherited by today’s historians and curators, as well as audiences” she stated. Seems as though this person, as I hesitate to identify her as a woman because she seems to prefer the homosexual side of life, wants to wipe out all reference to the ‘Family’ ideal, as represented in the homes and lives of both the Old and the New Aristocracies, where Father, Mother and Children are remembered and indeed defined as the Ideal of a Life to be remembered and emulated. Seems as though our Rachel yearns for the Lesbian and Homosexual lifestyles of the past three centuries to be made much more prominent in the National Trusts exhibits and projects.

There is, in my own opinion, a slight problem with the granting of our Rachel’s premise, for the advancement of homosexual attitudes and lifestyles in the past, as indicated within the Trust’s properties: and it is this. By the very nature of the homosexual persuasion, any sexual activity between consenting adults is, by their very nature, barren. Lesbians or Homosexuals, they cannot have children together, it is a simple, biological fact. And if there is no possibility of children, a dynasty, a single descendant cannot become reality. True, these days we have the simpering photos of two men clutching an uncomprehending child, born of a surrogate from sperm donated by one of those men: or a similar photograph of two lesbians holding a child which is the product of a similar implantation process with sperm from an outside donor. But, it must be stressed, these are artificial conception and birth processes: and not the product of an act of love between a man and his wife, or indeed between a man and his female partner.

Rachel doesn’t seem to understand that the vast, the overwhelming proportion of the inhabitants of the British Isles are heterosexual. Whilst we know and accept that the homosexual lifestyle is present, their values are not our values: and we just do not understand why these people insist on shoving their ideals and values down our throats!

An Oscar Nomination & A Tortured Tiny Body

I would just like to remind you of the happenings and aftermaths of one of the most horrific crimes of our recent history. Most, if seeing the name ‘Jamie Bulger’ will remember immediately the history of the murder of an innocent little boy, a boy whose life was snuffed out before he had a chance to do little else besides capture the hearts of his parents and his nearest relatives! Here was a child, and he truly could be called a child, who was snatched from where he waited for his mother, walked along by his ten-and eleven year-old abductors, who when questioned by a slightly-worried passer-by, was told that they were returning him to his mother! He was taken to a stretch of waste ground, and assaulted to such a degree that one hardened Policeman, who had actually viewed the pitiful small remains, was quoted as saying he had “never seen such ferocity” perpetrated on the body of a victim of crime!


The killers, and I call them killers because that is what they were; were tracked down, apprehended, charged, sentenced and committed to where and what? Not to prison, or a detention centre; but instead to a “secure youth facility”! There they were given only the best, protected by law against the truly desperate grieving relatives, who only wanted vengeance for the terrible deed done against that small body, and kept safe until the age of eighteen years. Then, after an intervention by the highest sectors of the British & European judicial system, both were freed, given new identities and allegedly a great deal of money from taxpayers funds, and total anonymity in their new identities under pain of contempt of court proceedings against anyone who publishes anything leading to their new lives!


This as reward for the blinding of Jamie by pouring paint into his eyes, for jumping on his tiny genitals, for pushing batteries up his little anus, and then pulling the batteries out again by the use of twisted wire; before laying his tortured, still breathing body on a railway line and hoping that the train wheels would destroy their vicious, perverted assault on a defenceless two year-old boy!

So there you have it, The great British justice system demonstrated in all its glory! On one side, you have two young killers, given anonymity, new identities and residences, given an education and a chance to live in glory with the proceeds of their crime; and on the other, a grief-stricken mother, divorced and alone, a father so bitter that he was arrested while attempting to discover where the two killers were kept: a cold marble headstone and a few websites.

And now, the true trauma is being revisited, over and over again, in a ‘documentary’ film, based on the transcripts of the police interviews of those two murderous killers, murderous despite their youth, murderous despite the tears, the sobs and the protestations of innocence. A film which had been Nominated for an ‘Effing Oscar by the esteemed Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

I wonder how those media professionals will vote? Will they concentrate on the film attributes, on the shots of these two ‘child actors’ purporting to be the sneering killers as they deny all knowledge of those terrible acts, perpetrated on that tiny defenceless body with all the fury of two maniacs? Will they comment upon the sound systems, and their ability to catch every whimper, every denial, every tearful ‘scouse-accented’ statement that ‘it wasn’t me’. Will they place their votes on the director’s ability to recreate the sterile interview rooms where these two murderous youngsters were made to face the reality and enormity of their crimes? Will the Oscar-panel take note of the director’s statements that he felt he had to ‘humanise’ the two 10-year-old boys, who were labelled ‘evil’. Will the director’s words “And I started to read everything I could find about it and I got the interview transcripts and I think I was expecting to find something much darker and colder but instead I found, and realised there was this human story beneath it all.” make any difference to the votes of those Motion Picture Panel experts who will choose which Documentary Film gains a kind of ‘immortality’?


Will the words of that ‘talented’ director influence that panel? Will they be more inclined to level a gaze at a film which purports to show “some people might say it is wrong to do that but I would say you know they have been so dehumanised by the media and they’ve only ever been seen as these evil monsters. “The film is a dramatisation but it’s entirely factual and there is no embellishment whatsoever..“I think in the film, for the first time ever we see them exactly as they were and they were two ten-year old boys who did something that was horrendous but they don’t really know why.”: and then judge that same film in the light as revealed by those words?

If the reader was a member of that Motion Picture panel: how would you vote! Would you vote to immortalise the memory of a tiny innocent smiling child, murdered by a pair of vicious killers; by giving the director a golden statue? Would you award an Oscar to help promote a documentary whose principal protagonists are now fully grown; one of whom is back behind bars for accessing pornographic child abuse images of the worst possible type off the Internet? Or would you declare that the purpose of this sinister film was simply to make money, and more money, and that no notice be taken of this film which seeks to cast a slur on the whole justice process, and also seeks to enhance the reputation of an ‘edgy’ director?



Deal? No Deal? Frankly, we don’t care: we just want to leave!


The avalanche of criticism aimed at those who voted to ‘Leave’ the European Union comes from so many sources that it is almost impossible to list or even to categorise the voices. But whether it is a business-base, a trading base, a political base or even an environment basis, those voices have but one message: why break the bonds; why leave? The cosy clutches of the EU are so appealing to so many areas of life all seem to ignore just one, teensy, tiny factoid of life that 17.4 millions identified. That ‘factoid’? It is simply that we had no control of the levers of power, of the way and manner in which we were governed, which in truth was at a distance from the centre of power. The core, comprised of big business, culture vultures, liberal and leftist-leaning politicians, including many alleged Tory MPs, loved the very idea of Europe, which comes slathered with lots of cash, lots of political-based jobs (which come together with stonking pensions), all of whom forget one other factoid: which is that all the cash to fund those multifarious projects, jobs, and of course pensions and expense accounts, comes, or is rather EXTRACTED from the Member States. They ignored the single feature of the ‘Leave’ strata of the British voting public, which was that we knew that we had been lied to, and then ignored.The Referendum gave us the hope to Leave, and tp Leave is what we wished to do!

Can anyone identify when they were asked if they wished the United Kingdom to take part in the machinations of the CERN Particle Physics Laboratory? Of course they couldn’t; we were never asked; our money was appropriated by a bunch of European bureaucrats, who have never ever asked anyone for the cash, they just took it, because it was authorised by the European Commission, the shadowy dictators of all of the European Project.

Some time back, I attempted to discover what the true cost of CERN actually had worked out to be. CERN? That is comprised of the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) that 27-kilometre underground tunnel, sited between France and Switzerland, filled with high-power electrical and magnetic equipment, all supposedly to view and discover what happens when sub-atomic particles are smashed together at speeds approaching terminal velocities. The result of all this massive engineering and scientific endeavour? They stated that they had realised the existence of the Higgs-Boson particle. Nobel Prizes were dished out like ice-cream cornets. The wider public, apart from a few ‘psychics’ who were prophesying ‘We are all doomed’, was distinctly less than impressed with the knowledge that the Higgs-Boson wouldn’t make their lives any easier, cut the cost of living, or even get Leicester City back to winning form again. The quest for the cost of the CERN collider? No-one actually knows; but the estimates are in the hundreds of billions of Euros. Which is to be expected, what with the tunnelling costs, the machinery and installation costs, the huge salaries paid to all these particle physicists, ancillary staff and general workers. But no one actually kept an eye on the budgets: after all, it wasn’t their money: it was OUR BLOODY MONEY!

We ‘Leavers’ have been roundly sneered at for years, as those who simply ‘loved’ the very idea and ethos of Europe just couldn’t get to grips with a fairly large chunk of Brit society who dismissed all the ‘gains and advantages’ of a Governmental structure which, looked at in the broad, unshaded light of practical people; looked very similar to a dictatorship. The European Project, first conjured up as a theoretical project during the First World War, was grown to reality so that the ordinary people, the folk who provided the actual cash through their work which funded all these European antics; the Governmental sprawl so beloved of the Elite; had no say in how their cash was to be spent, or rather squandered. We, the people, were fobbed off with a Parliament, whereby our voices were presumably to be echoed. The reality, which was a Parliament which was virtually toothless, had no financial or legislative clout at all, was specifically set up to be a talking shop, and very little else.

We, the British Leavers, were almost ready to give up, when the semi-revolutionary idea of UKIP came marching down the political highway, and made such a dent in the political landscape of that Parliament that Prime Minister Cameron, in a panic, promised a Referendum on that membership of the European Union. Imagine, the one thing which all politicians detest, a referendum! Why, because, in a referendum, there are two distinct choices: ‘yes’ or ‘no’; or, as it turned out to be for us: ‘Leave’ or ‘Remain’. Once the Referendum Question was finalised, the Remain Campaign, comprised of virtually everyone in politics, businesses large and small, culture and the arts, everyone with access to either a microphone or a computer, commenced shovelling out the propaganda of ‘Fear’. Fear of the unknown, fear of trade barriers, fear of not being able to ‘drop over to their ‘fave’ beaches; or many other lame excuses.

But the sheer genius of British Politics pushing an inept Tory Home Secretary into the spotlight of being the Prime Minister has slowly brought our dreams to reality. She, being a true ‘Remainer’ despite all the wordy speeches about ‘recognising the Will of the People’, commenced the slow and steady progress of ‘negotiating’ a settlement leading towards a British Withdrawal.  Her ideal of a ‘withdrawal’ which would ensure the’ free trade’ ideal which had been built up over four decades of membership and alliance with Europe, with binding ties in trade, defence, security and all the other hogwash which ensured that we would be tied in fact to a Europe which would continue to take ever-increasing bundles of cash from Great Britain & Northern Ireland, without us being able to influence the rules.

And that, folks, is where she went so very, very wrong. She either forgot, or never ever bothered to ask, why 17.4 million British people voted, point blank to leave. Many ‘remainers’ stated that we wanted to leave because of the so-called ‘free movement of people’. Not so, most of the people who voted like I did were indeed wishing that the immigrants would be stopped, but those immigrants were from the Arab Muslim Nations, along with Pakistan and Bangladesh. We applauded the migrants from Poland, and indeed from Estonia, Latvia and Germany, because they were just as we are, not a hotchpotch of Islamic trouble makers intent on getting close up to the fount of all benefits, without having to work for anything at all!

Put plainly, we wanted to leave Europe, and govern ourselves. If we got fed up of our own home-grown politicians, we could shovel them out by virtue of an Election which was designed to achieve something, not, as happens in Europe; the monkeys are changed, and the organ-grinders remain exactly the same.

We voted to leave, and, as a trading nation, we could trade with Europe, or not, as the case may be; but trade on our terms and rules, not theirs. We want to go back to being unemcumbered by the rules of a semi-dictatorship, but instead being ruled by our own government and law.

Put simply as possible: we voted to leave, and ‘To Leave’ is what we want!



I wish to speak to you today about dreams. Dreams of freedom, dreams of the ability to control our own destiny, dreams, all  held, seen or felt by 17.4 Million British voters who had simply stated: “We want to leave!.” No ‘ifs’, or ‘ands’, or even many ‘buts’: ‘We want to leave!’

Some ten months ago, on the 29th March 2018, I posted a video on both my own channel, and on the AltNewsMedia News site. But now, ten months on from that video, I wish to review the progress, or rather the lack of progress, towards that vision, that elusive dream becoming reality. We watched as the reins of power were dropped from ex-Prime Minister Cameron’s hands, after he discovered that the British people had not bent under the enormous weight of the Establishment’s views which was ranged against them, and had voted, by a clear majority to ‘leave’. We saw as the Tory Party MPs clenched their collective buttocks as they chose a candidate to lead both the Party and the Nations, and we watched in disbelief as a confirmed ‘remainer’, Theresa May, got into power by default, as all the others dropped out or cancelled their challenges. Despite a supposedly-ringing speech after she was confirmed as Prime Minister, stating that she had listened to the People, acknowledged that ‘Brexit means Brexit’, she determined that ‘she knew best’; that trade, and ease of that trade, were more important than the slicing of those ties to Europe which 17.4 millions had demanded; she determined that she would be able to bend or squeeze favours from individual EU nations, despite that same EU stating, categorically, that they would speak with one voice, and that was through their negotiator.

I am speaking of two years of betrayal, of two years when all semblance of the ‘rights’ of a democratic decision were virtually cancelled. All those decisions, the scheming, the abject surrender to all of the EU’s demands for our money, for our acceptance of their rules, of their statements that they knew best and, worst of all, that they just couldn’t understand why we wanted to leave, and all would be healed if we stated that in writing. When Prime Minister May called that ‘snap’ election, basing her call to the electorate upon the beliefs of her close advisers; and when that same election threw away the working majority which the Tory Party had, leading her to develop a majority based upon the votes of the Democratic Unionist Party of Northern Ireland. She stumbled onwards, as her chosen negotiators went back and forth to Brussels, and eventually, last summer, produced the Chequers Plan. A Plan which resulted in the resignations of cabinet ministers who suddenly discovered that they had sufficient backbone not to be able to stomach the extent of the surrender document placed before them.

Ignoring all the protests, including the fact that two of her Brexit Ministers had resigned, the Prime Minister’s Chequers Plan was polished further, and presented to the European Commission, and it was accepted in thirty-seven minutes flat. It actually should have taken just five minutes, but one presumes that they had to allow the ink to dry before passing the 500-odd pages between the 27 heads of Government. Five minutes? They had dictated the bloody thing from start to finish, it was three semi-colons short of a full surrender document, so they knew exactly what was being presented to them.  In amongst the surrender sections was a specific proposal to tie Northern Ireland into EU Customs union until a Trade Deal was negotiated, and this had been accepted by PM May, despite the very words being total anathema to the DUP. The same bunch of MPs which PM May depended upon for her working majority in Parliament.

We watched as predicted, May’s Withdrawal Plan got voted down by the largest majority in British Parliamentary History for over eighty years. The plan was acknowledged, even by the 202 who supported it, as being so full of legislative holes as to be a bespoke fishing net, but one fashioned with the Common Fisheries Policy in mind. It was a disaster. But, instead of resigning, and calling for fresh Tory Leadership elections, or even a General Election, Theresa May just presents the same package again. But this time with a few ‘tweaks’  to hopefully mollify her DUP sector, who continue to state, in loud tones “No Bloody Way!!”

We now come to the slime, the true greasy-pole scum in Parliament, which is comprised of renegade members of the Tory Party, who are planning to wrest power from the Government, so that they can either delay or destroy the whole ideal of Brexit. This scum, aided and abetted by high-profile Labour Party MPs, are attempting to process legislation which will remove what little power the Government has in the legislative process. Will they succeed? They might, if they are afforded protection by the sleaze-in-chief, otherwise known as the Speaker.

So, the 17.4 millions glumly watch as our dreams are squashed flat, folded up, packed carelessly away, labelled ‘Not Wanted on Voyage’.

T’was a nice dream whilst it lasted, but reality is peeking, slyly, around the corner; the European trash, the Elite, the Remainers have all but won.

And we don’t even own a Yellow Vest between the lot of us!!!

Zimbabwe. The new thugs…….JUST like the old ones


Towards the end of Prez. Mugabe’s reign of terror over Zimbabwe, which lasted for some twenty of the thirty-odd years he held power in that once-fruitful country, a lone voice made itself known. It belonged to Pastor Mawarire. He posted a four-odd minute YouTube video online, and the adverb ‘viral’ must have been generated specifically to report how widely the original was watched. A copy of this video is presented below. If you watch it, you might see a man who is despondent, a man who is hurt, a man who was promised so much, and yet; over the years of the tyrannical lash of Mugabe’s ZANU PF heavies: has received so very very little. You might see a man who is still determined to raise his head, and his voice, in the hope that someone hears his cries, and might take action to relieve the burdens placed on that silent population of his once vibrant country. What you will not see is a call for violent revolution; what you will not hear is a call for bloodshed; what you will not hear is a call for violence against his Government.

But his Government, under the iron hand of Mugabe and his close cronies, attempted to crush that voice, but fortunately the Zimbabwe Justice system hasn’t been brought under the heel just yet, and High Court Judge Priscilla Chigumba stated that the Pastor was acquitted on both the main charge of attempting to overthrow the Government, and the alternative charge of ‘incitement to commit public violence’. He travelled out to places such as Oslo, where he was feted and congratulated, but in Zimbabwe, he was a marked man.

Fast forwards to the alleged ‘Gentle Coup/Overthrow’, where Mugabe was finally ditched and cast aside. There was a short-lived euphoria, before it was confirmed that Mugabe had in fact resigned, and the former First Vice-President Emmerson Mnangagwa was to be the new President. In other words: in a typical Black African approach to power politics, the old dictator was cast aside, and his crony, who had stood firmly by his side; who had organised a massacre of twenty-odd thousand opponents of Mugabe’s ZANU PF party: who had lived high off the hog while Zimbabweans literally starved, was confirmed as the new President. But the promises flowed out of President Mnangagwa’s mouth stated that the time of dictatorship was over: that there would be new elections, that the Opposition would not be targeted: that all would be fine, in this: the best of all possible worlds!

So the elections were held, and the Opposition, the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) was targeted, the ZanuPF thugs ran riot, and the election was, as everyone suspected it would be, rigged so blatantly that the neutral observers were aghast at the efficiency with which the ‘ghost votes’ were cast, and so swiftly accepted by the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (Zec). Protests began, but the Zim. Army was on the streets, allegedly to ‘keep the peace’ and seven died, with dozens injured.

Enter the forgotten voice of Pastor Marawire: although not forgotten by the thugs of Zanu PF and the President. He spoke out against the Government’s actions doubling the price of fuels such as petrol, and as a result, he was arrested by armed policemen, and hustled away from his home. But the Government showed that they too could learn lessons, as all of Zimbabwe’s Internet was closed down virtually overnight, and the Pastor’s voice was silenced.

We  may see and hear that Pastor’s voice again, we might even see a new video, with his Flag wrapped around his shoulders: but I believe that the resonant hope, so vibrant in that original video, will be muted, will be sieved through the efficient apparatus which is ZanuPF’s thuggery, and will sound as coming through a cracked bell, with a jarring note and a certain sadness!



I have written before on various topics, but today I wish to concentrate on British Politics, and on those politicians who claim to represent us in Parliament. I wish to comment upon the gross betrayal of a Democratic voice and vote, the largest single voice in British political history. How that voice, that vote; has been cynically spun and welded into the greatest betrayal in British political life. I refer of course to the Referendum Vote, by which 17.4 million British people voted to leave the European Union. I refer to the cynically twisted methods by which both the Government, headed by Prime Minister Theresa May, her band of deeply-loyal (to the EU) Remain civil servants, and over eighty-percent of the members of House of Ccommons, all of whom have received instructions from their constituents that they wish to Leave the European Union; but have subverted, trashed, spindled and dismissed the Democratic will of the majority of the voters who took part in that Referendum.

After a total of two-odd wasted years, we were presented with the so-called Withdrawal Bill, which was sent to the European Commission without firstly being presented to Parliament. As the contents of this Bill resembled a ‘wet dream’ as far as the European Commission was concerned. it gained approval within thirty-seven minutes in a 27-NATION Commission meeting. As a negotiation document, it was a complete and utter surrender to the demands and desires of the Remainer and Remoaner MPs within Westminster. May’s document, which, I hasten to remind viewers, would carry the full weight of an International Treaty, which cannot, I repeat cannot, be broken under International Law. It tied and promised Britain into untold numbers of European endeavours. It literally gave access to our Fishing waters through a cynical interpretation of Europe’s regulations. It removed us, at one stroke, of access to Galileo, the European G.P.S. system into which over a billion pounds Sterling has been sunk. It ties us for an indefinite period of obeying EU Regulations, without ever having a voice in how these Regulations were built. It even assured the European Union that, in a direct contravention of all that was promised to Northern Ireland’s DUP, Northern Ireland would be tied into the Customs Union to PREVENT a ‘hard border’ between the Republic, and Northern Ireland.

What can we, as voters and believers, do? Can we vote the Tories out, and bring Labour in? The Labour bunch are, if anything, worse that the bloody Tories: they absolutely adore Europe, with it’s labour-friendly laws and its liberal bent (in all terms of that word). The LiB-Dims? Vince Cable has ‘I love Europe’ tattooed around his buttocks: so not much hope there. UKIP is a spent force, after Farage’s resignations, and the multitude of chancers attempting to lead that once shining example of political rectitude. We look across the Channel, and watch as President Macron’s iideals and laws are trampled underfoot by the ‘Gilets Jaune’ or Yellow vests: which are and were so plentiful because France’s laws making every road user carry one in case of ’emergencies’.Do we have a British version of the ‘Gilets Jaunes’ movement? Not really, the only name which springs to mind is that of Tommy Robinson. Unfortunately, he has been so specifically targeted by our politicised police forces, inclusive of Cressida Dick’s heavy mob in London, that he stands more chance of preaching unhindered in a mosque than making a political movement emerge in Britain.

So what must we do? A quiet insurrection? A movement which produces, in every Parliamentary Constituency at least one Independent: one person without political baggage, one person who promises to keep his word, and if we all vote for the little guys, suddenly we might just stand a chance!