Monday, 13 February 2017

Find at the Rickmansworth Roman Ruins



Exciting Find at the Rickmansworth Roman Ruins

It was the morning Sunday church service at the Rickmansworth Young Ladies College and through the open stained glass windows the girl’s voices rang out like an angel choir and were carried high on the gentle zephyrs which blew across the vast playing fields. It was John Hughes Hymn “Guide me Oh thou great Redeemer”


Guide me, O thou great Redeemer,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty;
Hold me with thy powerful hand:
Bread of heaven, bread of heaven
Feed me till I want no more

Tamzin Lacy was not present at this feast of choral music; I assumed she had been placed on detention again. Until I was brought up to speed I was not sure if it was because of the continuing vendetta with Miss Pringle or a general issue of the bad blood that existed between them that Phaedra had spoken about. As it turned out I had misjudged both Tamzin and Miss.Pringle her absence was explained as she was called to the front office to receive the news her parents had turned up unexpectedly to inform her that her father was about to leave on an immediate Government overseas posting.

So I will relate the story about a metal plate covered in mysterious Chinese symbols that was recently discovered in a field near Sparrows Nest close to the famous Roman ruins at Chenies during a dig behind the Red Lion Pub discovered by the gardener’s son, Raymond.

Incidentally it was Phaedra that reckoned Raymond had the hots for Tamzin.

Anyway initially the plate was thought to be from the first Ming Dynasty which would have put it at around 700 years old. I think they were Mongols; not that it makes any difference but I have to question what were the Ming people doing near Rickmansworth anyway.

The plate was dispatched to London to the Tate people for evaluation. It was discovered it was not actually from the Ming Dynasty at all but one of 15 million or so made for the European market by a Chinese company as a baking dish and heavily marketed on EBay.

This find triggered a lot of interest by the girls speculating that the painting that hung in the library of a Chinese Girl was a lost Rembrandt. Miss Sefton googled the painting and found it was one of millions of mass produced prints referred to as the ‘Green Lady’ a picture as kitsch as three flying ducks that graced the living room walls of people in the West with copies still appearing from Nigeria and India.

Google informs us the original painting sold for 1.5 Million pounds, even today a fair copy could fetch as much as 2 pound 50 pee, or even more.

I heard some terribly exciting news late this afternoon, Mr Crisis the Science teacher was back on staff. Patience said she overhead Miss. Sefton say to Miss. Pringle “He may well have come from the Constellation of Epsilon Boötes but he was good at his job and therefore I see no reason why I should not re-employ him”. This was a bad omen for stuck up Madeline Carter-Brown as the girls used to enjoy watching Mr. Crisis hypnotising Madeline during the Science lesson into believing she was a chicken.

Her fears were unfounded as Miss Sefton had since forbid Mr. Crisis to hypnotise ‘ANY’ of the girls during the science class. Rhonda had the presence of mind to keep well away from him after the last debacle of being accidentally taken to Bootis and needless to say Rhonda’s mother also had a word or two to say to Mr. Crisis about the matter. Nevertheless it was fortuitous that Mr. Crisis did return.

We had four houses, Boadicea, Nightingale, Victoria and Pankhurst and although we were a comparatively small college what we lacked in student numbers was made up by the fees the governors charged our parents. The money channeled into my education would have bought a small African country or at least the Isle of Wight.

In our dorm Boadicea, there were 20 beds, 10 girls each side. My bed was placed between Patience and Rhonda’s. After lights out we used to whisper to each other about things that only boarders would understand. I always thought Rhonda’s imagination could be termed wild and somewhat disturbing.

Before the German warship story she told me she has seen ghosts. She recounted at length of seeing a legion of Roman soldiers walk through the Concert Hall wall, across the corridor and through the Science room wall. She said they looked dirty, tired and generally fed up as if they just wanted to get home and have a bath. I don’t know if she was trying to frighten me, but if she was it was working.

The truth of Rhonda’s imaginations took a frightening turn a few weeks later. It was the night after the yearly prize giving and Rhonda and I were detailed to tidy up the concert hall. We were to put the chairs back in their positions, push the piano to its normal position and pick up any pieces of paper lying around.

We left the concert hall around 9 pm and were walking along the corridor between the concert hall and the class rooms when Rhonda who was ahead of me turned round and went instantly white. She pointed her finger over my shoulder and said “My God, they’re here” I turned to see an apparition of a number of Roman Legionaries with shields and spears appearing through the concert hall wall, marching straight cross the corridor and into the science room wall. They looked tired, dirty, unkempt, and without expression. There were no sounds

I clutched at Rhonda’s arm. “I’m scared”

Rhonda said “don’t be, they won’t hurt us, they are just ghosts”

I had a lot of respect for Rhonda after that night. I also took her fantasies a lot more seriously too. I suggested that we keep this ghostly sighting to ourselves, we don’t want any teasing by the other girls, and the doctor might put us both on some sort of medication followed by a course of intensive counselling. Rhonda instantly understood.

I had a change of heart the following morning; I couldn’t stop thinking about the poor Roman soldiers that couldn’t get home so I suggested to Rhonda we tell Mr. Crisis, he was a man of science he would have an answer. If we told Miss Pringle or Miss Sefton no doubt they would say it’s a result of a rush of pubescent estrogen or something just as silly.

“In the lunch hour let’s talk to Mr. Crisis he usually sits on the bench in the quadrangle doing the Times crossword.” I suggested.

The following day as we approached Mr. Crisis we were a little apprehensive as to who was going to broach the subject, for as far as he was concerned there were no reports of girls with psychological problems. I was still in awe of Rhonda’s bravery on the ‘night of the Romans’ that I said I would ask him.

I recounted everything that happened that evening. Mr. Crisis listened without interrupting and just nodded. He waited until I had finished, paused then said, “look come and see me after the holidays, they won’t be going anywhere they will still be here after the holiday break, I promise you I will get them home”.

But that is another story.



Friday, 10 February 2017

TAXI, No thank you I will Walk.


Taxi, No Thank You I will walk.

Prior the WW2 Great Britain had an Empire that spanned the globe. It boasted a huge manufacturing industry. It built and exported cars, motor bikes, ships and railway rolling stock to the world. Its homogenous population was by and large law abiding. This all ceased almost immediately after WW2. The British people were told they we about to experience a rich cornucopia, no a dizzy Kaleidoscope of peoples of primitive and differing cultures from all over the world that had been invited to join them to help enrich their own culture. But it was not as simple as that. It was when the stability of Western society changed.

Simply the purpose was to destroy the decade long European cultural homogeneity. Bear in mind Nationalism and National Identity is exactly the same thing. The American victors presiding over the Nurnberg trials decided this had been the cause of most of the European wars for centuries, They also realised these changes in the European topography should have been put into place immediately after cessation of hostilities of WW1, this mistake was not going to be made twice and the ‘Union of European Peoples’ was going to be the foundation of the birth of this ‘New Order’.


All the changes we have seen in Europe have been solely to destroy National Identity and establish a ‘Singular Europe’, without borders, with a singular currency, free movement of all people throughout Europe and the UK. Taking control of the currency was crucial. At the same time we saw the birth of many racial sub groups.


It is inevitable Multiculturism leads to social fragmentation, and this was the designed purpose. We experienced a new phenomenon called White Flight; perhaps ‘Fright’ is the word that escaped me. A French person would prefer to live with his own people rather live in or near a Sudanese enclave, An Englishman would prefer his neighbour to be of his own kind rather than live in a recognized Moslem designated area. It is understandable that Christian people would prefer to hear the sound of church bells rather than the wailing of the Iman from one of the multitude of Mosques. We now see violence between races, something never experienced prior to WW2 due to the multitudes of cultures (Multi-Culture).


It was the difference in cultures that started another phenomenon called ‘Escape to the Country’ when those who could afford to retreated from the violence of the cities and towns and the rapidly changing demographics to the less cultural enriched areas, but it was not going to be long before the wealthy swarthy Enrichers joined them to also avoid the violence. The authorities would rather you not see this particular crime tabulated like this as it really illustrates the big picture. Let us not forget this enrichment has been brought here on the backs of Multiculturism like FGM, Sharia law and multiple marriages.


Let us just look at rape. Rape has always been with us but Never on this scale. More importantly please understand why this is happening; it is NOT by accident it is by design. We are looking at only one type of crime here, Rape in Taxi Cabs which here in the UK it is monopolized by the cultural enrichers.


STARTS. BBC radio host Sam Mason, a single mother, was fired after she called a taxi company and requested a “non-Asian” driver to take her 14-year-old daughter to her grandparents’ home; preferably a female driver. ..


The operator refused, and said, “We would class that as being racist.” Mason responded, “It’s not your 14-year-old girl.”


A BBC spokesman said, “[Mason's] comments were completely unacceptable…she will no longer be working for the BBC.”


Great Britain is in the throes of a rape and paedophilia epidemic unlike anything the country has experienced in living memory.


Many of the sex crimes are being perpetrated by Muslim child grooming gangs responsible for drugging, raping and torturing hundreds and possibly thousands of British girls. Here we refer to the Rotherham rape of English children.


But another wave of sex crimes involves predatory Muslim taxi drivers who are raping female passengers. The number of so-called taxi rapes is snowballing to such an extent that a British judge has issued a warning that no woman can expect to be safe while travelling in a cab.


Reliable statistics on taxi rapes nationwide are difficult to obtain, and Freedom of Information requests seeking accurate data on cab-related sexual assaults are routinely denied.


However, a much acclaimed report produced by the London Metropolitan Police Service estimates that on average there are a total of 1,125 sexual assaults, including rapes, each year involving taxi drivers in just London; this works out to approximately 22 sexual assaults against women by taxi drivers each week in England’s capital city alone.


Moreover, according to a report entitled, “Ending Violence against Women and Girls in the UK,” published by the Home Office in
March 2013, only around one in ten women who experience serious sexual assault report it to the police. 

As a result, one can infer that the actual number of taxi rapes across Britain as a whole is far greater than many are willing to admit.


Apart from a few high-profile cases, taxi rapes are rarely reported by national newspapers in Britain, apparently because the politically incorrect crimes are not deemed to be newsworthy.


But a survey of stories buried deep inside local newspapers shows that taxi rapes are occurring in all parts of England, Wales and Scotland on an almost daily basis.


In a recent case in London that was reported by national newspapers, Mohamed Hacene-Chaouch, 46, was sentenced to seven years in prison for raping a 24-year-old female passenger in his unlicensed taxi.


Hacene-Chaouch
— an Algerian married father of five — assaulted the woman after she got lost in Soho, central London. The woman, who had been celebrating a friend’s birthday and had become inebriated, told the jury that the last thing she remembered was being in the back of a car and being taken to an ATM machine.


She said she drifted in and out of consciousness but woke up inside the car in front of her east London home to find Hacene-Chaouch raping her. Although Hacene-Chaouch denied the allegations, the crime was filmed by CCTV cameras.


Also In nearby Windsor, Anshul Sharma, 23, was charged with raping a 19-year-old woman who mistook his car for a legitimate taxi. She had been searching for a cab in the early hours of the morning when she was approached by Sharma, who claimed he was driving a licensed taxi. After she was in the car, he drove her to a remote location where he raped her.


In Blackburn on July 9, Talib Hussain, 62, was charged with sexually assaulting a 16-year-old girl, a passenger in his taxi.


In Blackpool on July 8, Turkish-born Fatih Top, 38, was charged with raping an 18-year-old woman who was a passenger in his cab.


In Shrewsbury on July 6, Ahmet Baser, 34, was sentenced to seven-and-a-half years in prison for raping an underage girl in his taxi. The victim and her friend were picked up by Baser's taxi outside a downtown night spot. After dropping off her friend, Baser went on to drive his victim into the remote countryside, where he raped her before taking her home.


In Nottingham on June 12, police said they were looking for an "Asian" taxi driver who sexually assaulted a 19-year-old passenger in his cab.


In Berkshire on May 21, Arshad Arif, 28, appeared at the Reading Crown Court on charges of driving a 17-year-old passenger in his cab to a remote park some 25 miles from her home and raping her twice. Arif was identified after it emerged he had earlier allowed the schoolgirl to use his phone, with her father noting down the number.


In Oldham on May 16, Tamur Yaqub, 32, was sentenced to eight years in prison after being convicted of attempting to rape a 15-year-old girl in the back of his car. The jury heard that Yaqub -- a married father of six -- had dragged the girl into his private-hire taxi after spotting her walking home. Judge Jeffrey Lewis of the Manchester Crown Court said: "You used considerable force against a girl who was no match for you. You subjected her to degradation and you have shown not the slightest remorse."


In Hemel Hempstead on May 7, Mashain Pitchei, 45, was sentenced to four years in prison for raping a 20-year-old female passenger. Pitchei, who pretended to be a taxi driver, was parked in the downtown Marlowes district when he offered a lift to the victim, who had been on a night out with friends. Believing it was a licensed taxi, she got into the vehicle and he drove off. Pitchei then pulled over in a suburb where he raped her.


In Heaton on April 11, Mohammed Akram, 35, pled guilty to sexually assaulting a woman in his taxi. After the woman entered the vehicle, Akram -- a married father of four -- drove to a remote location, where he attacked her.


In Peterborough on February 20, Mohammed Umar Anwar, 31, lost an appeal against the City Council's decision to revoke his taxi license after he admitted to police that he got a 15-year-old female passenger to perform a sex act on him when she had no money to pay the fare.


In Manchester on February 18, Elhadi Sakhri, 42, was sentenced to seven years and ten months for two counts of raping men who were passengers in his taxi. Sakhri -- who was granted asylum in Britain after complaining he faced persecution in Algeria because he was bisexual -- forced once of his victims up against a wall and raped him. He dragged the other victim by his arms down an alleyway where he raped him.


In London on February 6, police said they were looking for an "Asian" man accused of sexually assaulting three women in the Canning Town district.


In Leeds on January 9, Mohammed Shahin, 28, was sentenced to seven years in prison for raping a 20-year-old passenger who fell asleep in his taxi as he drove her home. A jury at the Nottingham Crown Court heard that from the moment the woman got in, Shahin switched off the GPS tracking system that monitored his vehicle's movements, suggesting he had a sinister motive from the outset. When she woke up, she found that Shahin had parked in a remote street in an unknown location. He then climbed into the back of the car and raped her before dropping her off near her home. The judge ordered that Shahin, after serving his sentence, be deported to his home country of Bangladesh


In Accrington, Mohammed Ishaq, 38, was accused of raping a 35-year-old female passenger after taking her home.

Also in Accrington, Mohammed Baig, 45, was accused of sexually assaulting an 18-year-old passenger. After dropping her off at her home, Baig left the victim with the words, "I'll look for you. I'll come and find you."


In Billingham, Khalile Maqsood, 31, was sentenced to eight-and-a-half years in prison for abducting and raping a 20-year-old female passenger at knifepoint. Maqsood -- a married father of four -- offered the victim a lift. But when she got into the taxi he took a series of wrong turns, then stopped in a deserted parking garage and turned off the engine.


Maqsood told jurors that the victim had led him on and had been "really up for it." He added: "I'm only human at the end of the day. She'd come on to me. I made a mistake. I just gave in to temptation. She led me on. She consented to it. That's what she wanted."


The cab driver -- whose wife was pregnant with their fourth child when he committed the offense -- was expressionless as he was led from the dock. Judge Rodney Jameson of the Newcastle Crown Court said Maqsood had shown little understanding of, and no remorse for, what he had done.


In East Sussex, Abul Malik, 29, was jailed for seven years after being found guilty of raping a 19-year-old female passenger when she could not pay for her £6.80 ($10) fare home.


In Edinburgh, Ibrahim Selman fled Scotland after raping a woman and assaulting several others while working as a taxi driver. Selman, who was in the UK as an illegal immigrant, went on the run to the Sudan days after holding a female passenger hostage, repeatedly raping her and leaving her for dead in the street.


In Hull, Masoud Rahimi, 37, was convicted of sexually assaulting a 20-year-old female passenger. The Iranian-born Rahimi denied it was him until the CCTV footage was shown to him, with the girl fleeing from his car as he was filling up the tank with gasoline.


In London, Salam Rahman, 27, and Mohammed Elahi, 26, were jailed for nine years for gang-raping two female passengers, one of whom was a 26-year-old newlywed.


In Clapham, south London, Atiq Rehman, 20, tricked a 22-year-old woman into thinking he was a legitimate taxi driver. Rehman, an illegal immigrant from Pakistan who was twice refused asylum in Britain, raped the woman for 45 minutes while asking her how many children she wanted to have


Also in London, Assadullah Razaq, 31, was sentenced to eight years in jail for raping a 28-year-old female passenger. The defense attorney said that Razaq, an Afghan refugee and a married father of three, admitted to having sex with the woman, but maintained it was not rape. His attorney said Razaq came to Britain after being tortured by the Taliban, and that something had affected his mental state.

At King's Cross in central London, police said they were looking for a Turkish cab driver who raped an 18-year-old passenger after driving her to a remote location. After the attack, he took her to Gloucester Place in Westminster where he pushed her from his vehicle and left her lying in a gutter.


In Manchester, Shahjahan Islam was sentenced to nine years in prison for sexually assaulting a 27-year-old female passenger. The victim had been out with friends when she decided to go home and got into a taxi driven by Islam. She gave Islam her address, he programmed it into his GPS and departed. After several minutes the woman realized they were going the wrong way. Eventually he stopped the car, climbed into the passenger seat and tried to rape her. DNA recovered from the woman led officers to identify Islam as the suspect.

In Newport, South Wales, Asif Iqbal, was sentenced to 12 years in prison for raping two female passengers on late-night rides home. Iqbal's wife was also jailed for six months after admitting to perverting the course of justice by offering money to one of the victims to withdraw her complaint. Police fear many more women may have been attacked by Iqbal, who targeted women outside pubs and nightclubs in the hope they would be drunk.


In Portsmouth, Muhammed Hasan, 35, was accused of locking a 19-year-old woman with learning disabilities into his cab and sexually assaulting her.


In St. Helens, Mazish Muzaffar, 43, was charged with assaulting a female passenger in his taxi.


In Sheffield, Zahoor Mahmood, 40, was jailed for eight years for sexually assaulting two female passengers. Instead of taking his first victim to her home, he locked her in his cab for more than two hours, got into the back with her and tried to get her to snort cocaine to get her "in the mood."

Three weeks later, Mahmood -- a married father of four -- spotted a 17-year-old girl walking home after a night out. He offered to take her home for free when she said she had no money for the fare, but then locked her in his cab for an hour, tried to get her to snort cocaine and then molested her. Before the attacks, Mahmood, who has been driving taxis in Sheffield for more than 15 years, had twice been stripped of his license after being convicted of drug offenses, but twice won appeals that allowed him to continue working.


In Teesside, Pakistani-born Liaqat Ali, 42, was sentenced to seven years in prison for raping a 16-year-old passenger as she dozed off drunk in his taxi. Ali -- a married father of four -- stopped for the girl in Middlesbrough and drove her to a secluded spot, where he attacked her. Ali admitted to picking the victim up but denied anything had happened. Once results of DNA evidence were obtained, he admitted to having lied.



Hurray for Multiculture.



Thursday, 2 February 2017

Magical summer days at Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.




Magical Summer Days at Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.

Rickmansworth Young Ladies College boasted a fine choir; in its large manicured grounds stood its own small church the organ gifted to the church in the 16th century by Sir Richard De Chauncey. The girl’s voices echoed around the high vaulted stone ceilings as they sang the school hymn the only hymn John Bunyan was credited in writing sung to the Monks Gate melody “He who would valiant be”.

It was not the same words that Tamzin was singing though and the day was nigh when Tamzin was going to find herself in a heap of trouble if she persisted in her behaviour. I must admit her words did follow closely to the original words though. Tamzin’s version follows.

She who would valiant be ’gainst all disaster,
Let ‘er in constancy follow the Master.
There’s no discouragement shall make ‘er once relent
‘er first avowed intent to be a pill grin.

Singing the last line of the hymn terribly off- key she sang “she’ll labour night and day to be a pill grin” her intent could be mistaken of just awful singing.

Tamzin said she was particularly tickled about the bit about Giants, Hobgoblins and foul fiends. Be that as it may no doubt it was why she was never picked to join the choir.

It was midsummer and we were in bed by 10 pm. The sun’s rays managed to find the gaps behind the curtains and reflected the sunshine off the ceiling making it difficult to sleep.

Rhonda could not contain herself any longer.

‘Did you hear about some idiot tying Helium party balloons around the necks of the swans in the village pond?’

‘No Rhonda and I don’t care I am trying to go to sleep’ whispered Patience.

‘Well you should care, how are the swans going to feed off the bottom?’

I realized this was not going to be an early night.

‘Well can’t someone remove the balloons?’ I suggested,

‘Well no, because they run away as soon as you approach them’ replied Rhonda.

’Well why not tranquilithe them firtht?’ Elspeth had decided to join the conversation.

‘What with Elspeth?’ questioned Rhonda,

I could see what was going on here. Rhonda was determined to keep this conversation going as long as possible.

‘Tranquilither Gunth’ said Elspeth.

‘What thort of Gunth Elspeth?’ I asked.

‘Bridgette will you thop it’ said Patience irritably.

‘No, I am really interested’ I lied.

A scuffling in the ceiling interrupted Rhonda’s delaying tactics, ‘Hang on what was that?’

There was silence as the girls strained to hear the noises.

‘Perhaps it is the ghosts’ said Rhonda.

‘Shush, listen’ whispered Patience.

There was definitely something moving about in the ceiling.

Rhonda’s summation sounded reasonable ‘Doesn’t sound like Ghosts to me, there again has it not been proved beyond all reasonable doubt that ghosts do not make noises, I mean I have not read of any study done on this subject have you?

Rhonda was not going to leave this subject alone or allow us to get to sleep.

‘Rhonda I am not listening to you anymore’ whispered Patience.

I think Rhonda understood and that was the end of the matter.

‘Get your colloquial French notes out’ ordered Miss Pringle, ‘Oh I should alert you Marmalade has gone missing’

Marmalade was the terribly spoilt school cat. He spent most of his days luxuriating on the couch in the bay window in reception, in the winter he could be found underneath the warm radiator on a cat bed in the office. Rhonda reckoned he was as old as Miss Sefton, possibly older.

Miss Pringle continued ‘I have sent Briggs to look for him, so girls keep an eye out for him as you know he does not as a rule go wandering that is why we are worried about him’.

The last time Marmalade’s general well-being had been brought into question was when Miss Pringle warned the girls that Marmalade did not like Liquorice allsorts, Chocolate or saucers of Sherbet as part of his regular diet; she said it makes his hair fall out. Rhonda disputed this, not directly to Miss Pringle of course but to anyone who would be silly enough to listen to one of her impromptu and riveting lectures during lunch time.

‘Miss, I think Marmalade is in our dormitory ceiling’

Here we go; it is Rhonda going off half-cocked again but as Rhonda previously pointed out ghosts don’t make noises, well not real ghosts maybe someone masquerading as a ghost might. Rhonda was an attention seeker and I hoped when she put her hand up she had a little more than unsubstantiated suspicions on the whereabouts of Marmalade.

‘What reason have you got for saying that Rhonda? Miss Pringle asked.

‘Well we heard noises coming from our ceiling last night’

‘Right I will alert Briggs, thank you Rhonda, right colloquial French textbooks out girls’.

In my best French translation I inquired of Miss Pringle about my Aunts pen that she lost in the garden and the time of the next train to Marseille, the location of the nearest Police station and could I be directed to the Ritz Hotel where I ordered two Café sans Lait and a Mille-Feuille,

Rhonda meanwhile ordered the À la carte not too well done, avec chips et sprouts. Miss Pringle’s eyes glazed over as she shook her head, no doubt wondering if her years of teaching had been a complete waste of time. I averted my eyes to my desk and blushed crimson. We were released into the warm embrace of the late afternoon sun.

As we headed for the playing fields we passed reception when we caught sight of Marmalade in Brigg’s arms, covered in dust with his head covered in cobwebs like a bride’s veil.

As I approached reception to check my mail I saw a group of Gypsies being attended to by one of the office staff. I learnt that they had found young Jane Campbell wandering in Peckham Woods. It seems the class had stopped for a comfort stop and later moved on leaving Jane behind a tree. On trying to catch up she had taken the wrong path and got lost and was found by the Gypsies, which accounted for their presence in reception.

When I was recounting this event Rhonda inquired if they were selling pegs or did they want to purchase Jane because if they did they would need an awful lot of money seeing who her parents were, or were they just seeking compensation for finding the lost student? Fortunately at this point the school bell sounded which gave me the excuse to dash off.

All boarders were expected to return home during the summer school break. Those remaining being the gardeners, who tended the large gardens, mowed the huge playing fields with a maintenance supervisor and a couple of his men.

The morning of the summer holiday break had arrived, the scent of rhododendrons hung heavily in the air as did the smell of freshly mown lawns. The concourse in front of the building was full of animated students with parents inquiring of the teachers of the academic progress of their offspring while their young irreverently climbed the statue of Lord Horatio Grantham joining him on his horse. It resembled Victoria Coach Station, but it was expensive cars rather than buses that lined the manicured drive to the Gatehouse. 

They were sheer magical summer days at Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.



Saturday, 28 January 2017

My Alma Mater; Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.



My Alma Mater; Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.

I was telling Tamzin about my earliest memories. I recalled playing on a big rocking horse and our Ginger cat that used to lie on the end of my bed. I asked Tamzin what were her earliest childhood memories.

Trouble is Tamzin cannot help herself she always has to go one better. She said it was escaping involuntarily from her mother’s uterus to find Auntie Elsie coochie-cooing and tickling her under her chin as her father endeavoured to take a photo of her on his mobile phone just as they were about to cut her umbilical cord.  

She said it all got a bit hazy after that. I know Tamzin is inclined to exaggerate but paraphrasing one of father’s sayings “stuff me this surely has to take the cake”.

When I was about ten I remember asking mother where babies come from, she said they were found under Gooseberry bushes. I accepted her answer without question despite bizarre speculation by the other girls. Years later on Graduation day or was it School Camp when I was seventeen I found to my horror she had been lying to me for years. My mother is now trying to convince me that as a baby I was left at her front door and was adopted. Perhaps she is after carer’s money, who knows.


Uncle Crisps and Auntie Jekyll are coming over at the week-end. Incidentally the good news is that Uncle Crisps has had the tracking device removed from his ankle and Auntie Jekyll has at last been finally admitted to a home for the mentally confused and befuddled. Mother wants me to help with the catering. I have bought a Woman’s Weakly cook-book which has a lot of good stuff in it.


I am thinking of making ‘Hundreds and Thousands’ sandwiches for Uncle Crisps, Naturally with the crusts cut off and for Auntie Jekyll perhaps savoury sausages with a Condensed milk dip and for afters bread soaked in treacle with a tomato sauce topping. I have also been looking out for drinks that glow in the dark.


LATE MESSAGE! My mother has asked me to stay out of the kitchen.


My parents sent me to a very expensive exclusive girl’s boarding school Rickmansworth Ladies College for genteel young ladies, one terms school term fees would have armed a third world country for years or fed a child from Biafra for hundreds of years, probably more and possibly got a space program off the ground for them.


Some sad news, some wretched person ‘Sniped’ me on EBay for the spotters guide to UK Electricity Pylons and won it for 80 Pee. I honestly don't understand how these people can possibly live with themselves.


A chance remark by an internet acquaintance of mine reminded me of an incident at school.

I was approached by Miss Frenzi the school sports teacher and asked if I would like to join the senior netball team.

She asked “what position on the court would you like to be trialled?


I replied “well, preferably in goal miss”


She inquired "do you know much about netball Bridgette?"


I replied "Well frankly not a lot"


She never got back to me!


I have just heard on the news, that if Iran does not cease its nuclear ambitions not only will the UN step up its sanctions, but Iran will be forced to host the next FIFA world cup. Finally the UN is getting serious.


We buried Charmaine one of our chickens the other day, she had been egg bound.


Tamzin, Phaedra, Patience, Rhonda and I stood in a circle and farewelled her with two choruses of “She who would true valiant be” or something like that. Her spirit moved on and she was consigned to the cold, cold ground. I advanced the hypothesis that it is possible that the sudden demise of Charmaine must have caught the attention of the other chickens and would have been the focus of much discussion. We as humans think we are the centre of the universe; we are so puffed up with our own importance we fail to see the broader picture.

Mother dear, we are wretched victims of nihilism. Chickens too suffer anxieties from a sense of insecurity when something like this happens. Remember we are all fellow travellers on this inconsequential dying blue/green stellar piece of flotsam floating aimlessly without any apparent purpose against a star-studded Ebon cyclorama.


Remember Life doesn't stop when Dementia starts!


No, it’s not the ramblings of a Twitter amateur Philosopher; I saw it on the wall in the doctor’s waiting room along with “Parents be ever vigilant for head lice" Funny that, I thought only children got head lice.


It has happened again another one of our chickens died. I found Pamela on her back under a tree. She was a homing chicken. She will be sorely missed. As you can imagine the other chickens are distraught and again are trying to come to terms with the tragic loss of a sister chicken.


Phaedra my third best friend asked my friend Graham what she should buy her mother for her 20th wedding anniversary. Seeing she had Irish heritage he suggested buying a celebratory pack of 20 DVD'S totalling 1000 hours of Irish dancing.


Roger, my sort of first boy-friend bought me a year subscription for my birthday to the Dolly magazine little realizing the profound, haunting morbid dread I used to experience whenever I was about to open the sealed section at the back of the Dolly Magazine, it probably explains why even today I am terrified of Badgers. Can you understand that?


It was the second time Roger got me home after 10.PM  father said the next time this happens he will be ostracised. I asked Roger if that meant he will not be able to have children.

By the way I was hoping the new Pope would have been an African woman.


I suppose it all started when my mother suggested I should cultivate some "deep meaningful relationships" So I joined Facebook. Father accused me of being a tart trying to pick up men of the opposite 
species. I overheard mother's Bridge partner Mrs Tinkle ask if I was adopted, Mother shook her head and replied "I don't know where she came from" with heavy emphasis on the 'where'

Follow Oprah Winfrey isn’t she a twin? Why would I want to follow Oprah Winfrey I have never liked tennis.





Saturday, 21 January 2017

Bad Taste Television.


Warning
Consult your Psychiatrist for Correct Dosage.

It was while channel hopping on my 55 inch television when to my horror I was confronted by a sudden, disturbing scene of a Gentleman exhibiting his flaccid penis. There was a sharp intake of breath or was it an involuntary gasp from my wife. Not being fleet of foot I admit it was my fault I was unable to shield her eyes quickly enough from the offending scene. It was a program called ‘Embarrassing Bodies’’ My first thought being, is nothing sacred. These TV feasts are collectively known as Bad Taste Television.

These type of shows are becoming more and more common, and knowing Television has an insatiable appetite I wondered whether it was right and proper for me to contact the TV station/stations with more unusual ideas for new plots in the same series. In no time at all I had three programs planned and one in the pipeline. Tasteless Television I found does not take a great deal of thought or imagination.

The first bad taste concept concerns a lovely married couple Eugene and Francis; Sweethearts from their school days. It will be explained they took advantage of the referendum for Homosexual couples to demand to be recognized as husband and wife and given the same rights as a couple in a conventional marriage. Desperately wanting children but as a same sex couple were unable to achieve same due to not having the required carefully matched sexual equipment they were however able to apply for a  licence to import two small children after a ruling by the UN Court of Human Rights in the Hague.

The plot continues. The two lovers fly to some place in Africa, could be Gambia, hang on might be Sierra Leone and using a local intermediately promised he would find the couple a matched pair of small children. A sum is agreed upon and all that is left to do is to apply for an export licence. The beauty of this plot is it can be ongoing similar to the BBC series where the TV crew return every seven years and see how the two children are coping with discrimination, Homophobia, Bigotry and racist remarks.

The Bad Taste Television continues taking advantage of the plethora of building and restoration programs. Here the viewers are treated to a complete restoration and makeover of Auschwitz concentration camp. The camp will be demolished to make way for high rise apartments. Each apartment will boast a single reception room, bathroom, two bedrooms with ensuites, under floor heating and of course modern showers each with its own balcony, the complex will also boast a communal gym.

Some aesthetically pleasing original features will be retained and hopefully incorporated into the new apartments others removed like the greeting arch at the entrance reading “Arbeit Macht Frei” it will be replaced with a flashing coloured neon sign proclaiming ‘Dunroamin’ aptly named as most of the people in residence will be retirees. A country wide competition could be held to select a name for this new housing complex. As an act of respect  a marker will be placed at the entrance to the complex reminding visitors of the buildings original purpose. The small gauge railway line will be replaced and modified to merge with the main line linking it to the rest of the country.

Lastly an absolute gem of an idea for a series which could be regarded as the ‘Very Best of Tasteless TV’

It calls for four married couples, conventional couples I might add who have already decided they definitely do not want children, well not at this stage of their relationship anyway.. I visualize the title of this reality show being called “The Surprised Parent” It has been agreed before-hand the couples will be provided with free condoms for one year only.  Each week they talk about their relationship with each other, their hopes and fears for the future and their desire for one day perhaps have children.

Now what the couples do not know is a hole has been deliberately and carefully made in one of the condoms which will be given to one of the 4 couples regularly, even the production people do not know which contestants will be given the tampered one. It is assumed hopefully within the allotted year a “Surprise Parent” will surface.

It is a lose/win situation the contestants have not been told that the impregnated loser/losers will win a house, a holiday and a car. I feel this concept of a Tasteless TV show could have a tremendous following during the weeks when the X factor, Emmerdale, Coronation Street, Britain has Talent and the host of cooking shows go into recess.

A new program is being promoted by Channel Seven in Australia who appear to specialize in these type of shows for the walking brain dead it is called “Brides and Prejudice” The programs catch cry is it’s “controversial” as is most Bad Taste Television I might add. A short promo show a white girl with her overweight Negro husband with his arms around her heavily pregnant stomach, an expectant mother who could be harbouring quads and should have given birth a couple of months earlier.

I assume there had been some resentment by her family of her choice of husband; thus the title for this TV offering and is where the word Prejudice in the programs title is cleverly utilized.

This delicate subject is not new. Sarkozy the ex-president of France advocated the same but instead married a gorgeous leggy ‘hot blonde chick’ from the cat-walk. The saying do as I say, not what I do spring to mind.

Sarkozy said “The goal is to meet the challenge of racial interbreeding. The challenge of racial interbreeding that faces us in the 21st Century. It’s not a choice, it’s an obligation. It’s imperative. We cannot do otherwise. We risk finding ourselves confronted with major problems. We MUST change; therefore we WILL change.

Following his advice Mr. Kalergi’s vision of the future of humanity surely will be realized.

Kalergi said "The man of the future will be of mixed race. The races and classes of today will gradually disappear due to the elimination of space, time, and prejudice. The Eurasian-negroid race of the future, similar in appearance to the Ancient Egyptians, will replace the diversity of peoples and the diversity of individuals."

Sunday, 1 January 2017

Name,Rank and number or 2011 Census


Name, Rank and Number.

Or the 2011 Census
Written 2011
I read with some disquiet that Die Eurostat in Das Kapital will be given access to the British census figures. I would have liked to have written ‘the English census figures’ but since WW2 England has ceased to exist as a nation state due to its people’s criminal apathy and the treachery of its leaders in collusion with its Regal Representatives passing governance to an undemocratically illegally formed European pseudo Marxist government on the European mainland.

That said, in a full blown surveillance society, where the Prolls are watched around the clock by plus or minus 4.2 million CCTV cameras and subjected to ideological terrorism and the loss of personal freedoms that we have always taken for granted in the past, I am sure those of us that might be considered as activists, patriots or thinkers then our Emails no doubt are monitored along with all other means of communication. What a godsend for a census to arrive at this critical time in the birth of our Orwellian world.

On tracing my family’s history back quite a few generations I found they originated from Monmouth and Devizes in Wiltshire. I also noted that on the 1811 census forms the only information that was required was the names of the residents in the household on the night of the census, their relationship to one another, their ages and their sex and their occupations, type of dwelling and number of rooms. There were questions inquiring of those who were deaf, dumb, lunatics, imbeciles or feebleminded. 200 years later the information required might have changed but the purpose of a census has not; information gathering. What will be alarming in the coming census is the number of Mohammeds and Patel’s on the ‘English census’ and names that do not possess a vowel.

As a point of interest, in the 1911 census many females refused to take part and made sure they were ‘away’. Having been refused the right to vote they rightfully figured why take part in a census? Likewise how much respect the Government pay you as an ethnic Briton I feel suppose should mirror how much you feel your input is on the census form is going to improve your standing in YOUR country when due to their suicidal policies YOU ARE going to be a minority in YOUR Country anyway. Can one really be serious? Perhaps they would like to chronicle your demise for its historical records, to show the rapid social transformation this country is at present undergoing.

This is another world, one our grandparents would barely recognize. For instance the resident Head of the household and his wife could be both of the same sex and be legally married as well as the guardians of a number of children of varying colours and hues. The said children could be the illegitimate offspring of a number of fathers of a number of races who because of their delusional mental state call themselves British. If I might be allowed to indulge in a little crass crudity here I assume if the Homosexual couple “made love” in front of the children then that is quite legal too, as their human rights as de facto parents have be recognized and respected. It’s a liberal thing you see. God did I write this?

In response to a question asked by Lord Peer Stoddart of Swindon the government has confirmed from the Director General of National Statistics that the UK and all other member states (not countries you might observe) are required to make available to the Die Eurostat, the EU’S statistics department to be given information from the British 2011 national census. All satellites regions of the Collective Socialist Bloc will be required to make available to Das Kapital in Bruxelles a set of standardised statistical outputs from a census or comparable statistical sources relating to the year 2011.

Lord Stoddard believes that successive governments have been responsible for handing over statistical information about their citizens to an unelected foreign body. He said Census data can be used for a multitude of other reasons other than just to collect data. It can be used to single out one section of the population, look into people finances and look into people’s personal information. To put your mind at rest at present personal details will not be given to Die Eurostat but he did say he has NO confidence that Her Majesties government will not in the future cave in and agree that personal information about every British citizen can be given to other satellite members within the bloc and lodged in the archives of Das European Kommisariat.


Now when I was in the military we were told that if captured under the Geneva Convention all we need to divulge under interrogation was our name, rank and number. The Geneva Convention means different things to different regimes. Many third world cess pits would assume the Geneva Convention is a Swiss carnival and talkfest to exchange Cultural whimsies and to swap local food recipes.

A lot has changed since 1811 or even 1911. For instance in the interim we lost our constitution and are slowly losing our identity and have had to fight tooth and claw in court for recognition that we ARE the ethnic race indigenous to this country. As an aside, as once boasting the greatest navy in the world we do not even possess an Aircraft Carrier.

This census might be one the like we have never known before. The government have no idea how many illegal swarthy natives from the dark continents reside in OUR country. The census will not reveal this either. If say there are 20 illegal Somalis or Pakistanis living in one house when the census collector calls, the word will travel fast they will be through the attic trap door like rats up a drainpipe and like rodents sit deathly quiet, line abreast on the rafters, eyes glinting in the half light, not unlike Swallows sitting on a telephone wire before heading South to warmer climes.

In this census the Socialist regime might also like to know if English is your first language or one of 253 others. This information might give them some idea how many non-English people live in OUR country. In the 1811 and 1911 census a person’s religion was not asked for but they were asked if they spoke Welsh or Irish besides English.

Without dwelling on trivialities, they only need to ask the same questions asked in the 1811 and 1911 census. If ones religion is required, just write Pagan, or Moon worshipper. They have to prove you are not telling the truth, a difficult thing to do if they are not up all night and present when you are baying at the moon.

 If they want to know your first language tell them that in the UK as far as you are concerned there is only one first language and it is by co-incidence the second, third and fourth and it is ENGLISH you can add you cannot speak on behalf of all the millions of non-English invaders infesting our country and who are only residing temporarily in OUR country. 

So please remember when filing out your census form all you need to give is your name, your age, your sex and your relationship, occupation with the other people at the address. NOTHING ELSE!!!! Any other questions other than asked on the 1911 census treat with great suspicion.(written 2011)

Tuesday, 27 December 2016

Tension in my Lady's Chambers.


Tension In my lady's chambers.

Your mail Ma'am.

Oh for Christ sake not another bloody youth centre to open. That’s three this month, Beecham what the friggin hell’s going on here?

Can’t you get Charles to open it Ma'am ?

Christ no he’s bloody useless, he has formed a close attachment with the oak tree in the village; we don’t see much of him these days, come to think of it nor does his wife, whatsername.

Can we get Charles’s wife..., thingy to open it?

No she would frighten the kids and the horses. Look I’ve had it up the here, they can stick it up their Jacky. Christ Beecham, 161 Mosques in Birmingham and about 245 table tennis clubs in Tower Hamlets we are losing all sense of proportion here.

 I don’t know what to suggest ma'am. What about telling them you are having your appendix out.

FFS man you are my advisor how stupid is that, everyone knows I’ve already had my appendix out.

Well Ma'am for a little levity just tell them they are going to put them back in again.

Frankly Ì don’t find that remotely effing funny Beecham I have got no time to frig around with this, I‘ve got a Trooping of the Guard this weekend, attend a consecration of a cathedral somewhere and two EU treaties to sign, I have no time to have to worry about opening yet another bloody table tennis club in Peckham. Frankly my family disappoint me as well. Christ look what I got for my 90th birthday an embroidered tea towel with my name on it and  a set of Windsor Castle place mats from Philip and a pair of joggers from Charles FFS.

True Ma'am but it is got to be an improvement on last year when Philip bought you a tool for punching holes in leather belts…………….. Hang on, the Duke of Cambridge is free Ma'am….I think.

FREE! FREE!? He’s not effing free; he’s bloody married for F.ucks sake.

 There are not are lot of other royals of substance left.Ma'am 

Oh Shit!......... What’s the name of this woman he’s married to?

The Duchess of Cambridge,

That’s not a friggin name that’s an effing title, what’s her name for crying out loud?

Kate.

Kate what?

Middleton.

Never heard of her, Does she know much about table tennis?

She does plays tennis ma'am.

Close enough.

Shall I contact the stables that you might require a horse milady?

I am not riding to Peckham on a friggin 'orse you bloody fool, order a State Carriage with all the flunkeys, the whole box and dice, flags and everything.


(Is nothing sacred?)