Saturday, 17 September 2016

The Rickmansworth Nightmare, Escaping the Matrix.

The Rickmansworth Nightmare.

The  Escaping the Matrix.

You must read my article “The First  Awakening” to fully understand what is happening here. I appear to be slipping back and fore between dreams, but they are too real to be dreams. I am also beginning to have doubts about slipping though distortions in space and time or passing through Gateways and crossing dimensions, I suggest what this man has to say might be true.

He talks a lot about Perception, Conception and Holograms. I am being asked to believe his theory that we are living in a Matrix and the Matrix is shaped by frequencies sent out from Saturn’s rings and amplified by the Moon. He is suggesting what we experience as reality is not true reality but our perceptions are being influenced by intelligence from outside. But who controls the Matrix?

We are not who we think we are. He says Quote. ‘It is the “Queen Bee” (Saturn-Moon) that broadcasts the waveform information “hack”, and humans decode this into a world they think they see, and perceptions and behaviours they think is “them”. We can be completely controlled by the Matrix and be no more than human robots responding to data input. End of quote.

I really want to believe, but it is a big ask.

He must have his finger on the pulse. He travels the world giving lectures on his theory that we are living in a hologram. He can fill the Battersea town hall to the brim explaining with video presentations to people wanting to know more about this; his 10 hour lectures are the norm.

Maybe I did not slip through a distortion in space and time, or drawn into a Worm Hole maybe there was no Gateway, maybe this is the second time I have escaped the Matrix. It was only my perception that I am a middle aged male when in fact I am a female of the opposite species. So on re-awakening it was the real me and not who I thought I was? Does that make any sense?

I would like to regard this as my second and hopefully my final awakening; I prefer reality beyond the Matrix.

All this happened a while ago but to bring you up to speed Mother seemed to know of my arrival. As I was coming down the stairs she said “Oh so you’re back?” She had just come in from the garden and was holding a pot plant. It was though I had never left.

I inquired “what’s that?”

She replied “it’s a plant”

I said “I can see it’s a plant, but what’s it called?”

Briefly hesitating and ruefully looking at the plant she shook her head and admitted apologetically “I never gave it a name “

Exasperated I said “No, no what’s the plant called?”

“You mean like Nathan or Phyllis?

“No like Rose or Lily”

“Rose and Lily are both girls’ names, it’s just a plant in a pot; it’s called a Pot Plant”

It was early Saturday morning I knew I was not going to get a lot of sense out of her so I decided to quit while I was still behind.

From here on in and for the sake of anonymity and to protect mother’s identity I will refer to her as Mrs. Flugelhorn.

When Graham and I were a unit mother took him aside and said confidentially “Look Graham I would appreciate it if you did not associate with my daughter”

He answered “Mrs. Flugelhorn I love and respect your daughter and would never do anything to hurt her”

Mrs Flugelhorn’s brow furrowed “no, no you have missed the point completely, she is weird”

I first met Graham at a Country and Western show in Rickmansworth; he was dressed in a cowboy outfit. We talked for ages and ages about everything, friends, foibles (foibles?) family and hopes and fears for the future. I was amazed we had absolutely nothing in common, a firm foundation for a long and happy marriage.

They say love is blind likewise mother’s tattooed friend Rhonda, you can find her up at the Red Lion blind most Saturday evenings. On second thoughts blind is the wrong word; smashed is the word that escapes me.

It is death that stalks us all and it was a problem Uncle Crisis recently had to face. You see he has his father’s ashes but lacked a burial plot for them. He said he may be forced to lay the ashes on top of his mother, my Auntie Jekyll in the same grave. I asked him about an epitaph, he said it will read ‘In Death as In Life’ I suggested before they put chisel to marble perhaps he should re-think the epitaph.

Death? It reminds me of the sad story of poor Mr Humphries the widower up the road. His wife committed suicide you know. She did leave a note. It read your dinner is in the oven…….so am I.

Talking about Polar Bears reminds me of an incident concerning my friend Tamsin; actually Tamsin is my second best friend Patience is my very best friend. Miss Frenzi the teacher was explaining to the class that a Farrier re-shoes horse’s hooves as a shoe repairer repairs people’s shoes.

Tamsin stood up and shouted  out “that’s Cobblers miss”. Miss Frenzi scolded "Tamsin Lacy wash your mouth out and report to Miss Pringle’s office" adding “I will not tolerate foul language in my classroom”

The last I saw of Tamsin Lacy that day was when she poked her head round the door on leaving pleading “but miss, miss….”

Phaedra told me there was a ‘bad blood’ whatever that means, between Miss Frenzi and Tamsin. It started when Tamsin blacked out her two top front teeth for the School photograph. If that wasn’t enough she appeared twice in the photo after discovering the photographer was going to do a 10 second time exposure thus enabling her to run round the back of the students and appear for a second time in the photo, on the extreme right …again complete with blacked out teeth.

A few days later showing her the offending photograph Miss Frenzi said crossly “Your parents will think we have no discipline here, now we will have re-assemble the whole school and get the photographer back, it’s all time and money”. I can only surmise it is small transgressions like this that has caused this ‘bad blood’

Father is a bit Mutton Jeff; I was telling mother and Tamsin about Colonel Carter-Brown who lives at Ruthin Castle near Plaxtol Mill. I told them he organizes tours for Japanese tourists, shooting parties for the wealthy, arranges lovely afternoon tea parties on the lawn, hosts old time dancing and has exquisite balls; father cried out from the kitchen “wash yer mouth out Brigitte”.

Exasperated I looked at my mother and whispered forcefully “MOTHER, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!” She closed her eyes, patted the back of my hand reassuringly saying “never mind pet, don't fret  it’s just your father”

I shall refuse to talk anymore when father is around after the last episode when I was telling Tamsin of a movie about a gigantic Octopus. I just happened to be describing its huge tentacles when father cried out “Bridgette I will not tell you again”. I tearfully pleaded “Mother for heavens sake make him wear a hearing aid”

Tamsin’s mother told my mother that Tamsin moans and cries out for Gandalf in her sleep. God ONLY knows what she gets up to in her dreams; that’s Tamsin not her Mother. I don’t like to pry as dreams are very personal and private things aren’t they? Trouble with Tamsin she is too trusting.

Her mother had to tell her not to do cart-wheels in front of the boys; she said all they want to do is look at your knickers. Tamsin said “I know that mother; I know thaaaaaat with emphasis on THAT,” that’s why I keep them in my bag”

To sum up, if this is the real me and if this is to be my permanent home I am going to have to establish some guidelines here, a new set of ground rules for Graham for a start. Moon Matrix Theory Explained

Wednesday, 14 September 2016

Celebrity Candour

Celebrity Candour.

Another person’s point of view

As far as I know Jeremy Clarkson is apolitical; he is NOT a member of a political group which in today’s Stalinist Britain is a very wise move? A friend in Florida sent me this rant by Clarkson. If Clarkson was not a celebrity and did not keep his politics to himself then publicly airing views like this there is a real risk of him being accused of Racism/Fascism and/or being a Narnsey/Bigot.

What he is doing is describing the contemporary Britain which he sees though HIS eyes. One does not make comments like this in the UK without the risk of being crucified by the State Controlled TV and print Media or at worst a frantic visit by the State Controlled Political Police investigating any number of possible charges listed as a ‘Hate crimes’ What he sees is similar to the scene a little boy witnessed when he realised the Emperor was not wearing any clothes, it is called stark reality.

You may observe it but you must not comment on it or you might be accused of any number of isms and phobias complied from the Governments little red book of “Words to use to terrify the people”.

This situation here is very similar to threats of intimidation and of arrest placed on people in Burma, China, Iran, Tibet, and North Korea for airing their political views. Dare you publicly complain about the social destruction of Great Britain or that our freedom of speech has been deliberately stifled and you might find yourself in jail quick smart.

If we accept as read that the three political parties have IDENTICALLY the same political philosophy and/or ideology why do they not then form a Socialist Alliance or Bloc similar the old USSR and stop playing silly games? They then could remain in power forever. Why not do it properly and elect a General Secretary to preside over a Socialist Central Committee. They already have a far left socialist political regime already in place as well as a loyal State Political Police Force to put down any political or social dissent by the unruly, smelly peasants. They could ride the gravy train forever.

We might be being ruled by a brand new form of pseudo-democracy paying only lip service to true democracy, in a country where Electoral ballots are as free from fraud as any festering third world country. So the people ponder why vote at all, the result will be the same, and the result is the people will end up again with the best government that money can possibly buy.

The enclosed article by Jeremy Clarkson was in the Sunday Times but was 'pulled' - probably by the subject of the article, Peter Mandelson, so much for free speech. But poor old Mandy fails to appreciate how the blogsphere works and in no time the article finds itself going viral round the world. Enjoy it and feel free to pass it on if you enjoyed it.

***Clarkson’s observations follow***
Jeremy Clarkson
Sunday Times 8/11/09

I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought all week, and I’m afraid I’ve decided that it’s no good putting Peter Mandelson in a prison. I’m afraid he will have to be tied to the front of a van and driven round the country until he isn’t alive any more. He announced last week that middle-class children will simply not be allowed into the country’s top universities even if they have 4,000 A-levels, because all the places will be taken by Albanians and guillemots and whatever other stupid bandwagon the conniving idiot has leap.

I hate Peter Mandelson. I hate his fondness for extremely pale blue jeans and I hate that preposterous moustache he used to sport in the days when he didn’t bother trying to cover up his left-wing fanaticism. I hate the way he quite literally lords it over us even though he’s resigned in disgrace twice, and now holds an important decision-making job for which he was not elected. Mostly, though, I hate him because his one-man war on the bright and the witty and the successful means that half my friends now seem to be taking leave of their senses.

There’s talk of emigration in the air. It’s everywhere I go. Parties, work, in the supermarket. My daughter is working herself half to death to get good grades at GSCE and can’t see the point because she won’t be going to university, because she doesn’t have a beak or flippers or a qualification in washing windscreens at the lights. She wonders, often, why we don’t live in America.

Then you have the chaps and chapesses who can’t stand the constant raids on their wallets and their privacy. They can’t understand why they are taxed at 50% on their income and then taxed again for driving into the nation’s capital. They can’t understand what happened to the hunt for the weapons of mass destruction. They can’t understand anything. They see the Highway Wombles in those brand new 4x4s that they paid for, and they see the M4 bus lane and they see the speed cameras and the community support officers and they see the Albanians stealing their wheelbarrows and nothing can be done because it’s racist.

And they see Alistair Darling handing over another 30 Billion of their money to not sort out the banking crisis that he doesn’t understand because he’s a small-town solicitor, and they see the stupid war on drugs and the war on drink and the war on smoking and the war on hunting and the war on fun and the war on scientists and the obsession with the climate and the price of train fares soaring past £1,000 and the Guardian power-brokers getting uppity about one shot baboon and not uppity at all about all the dead soldiers in Afghanistan, and how they got rid of Blair only to find the lying twerp is now going to come back even more powerful than ever, and they think, “I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”

It’s a lovely idea, to get out of this stupid, Fair-trade, Brown-stained, Mandelson-skewed, equal-opportunities, multicultural, carbon-neutral, trendily left, regionally assembled, big-government, trilingual, mosque-drenched, all-the-pigs-are-equal, property-is-theft hellhole and set up shop somewhere else, but where?

You can’t go to France because you need to complete 17 forms in triplicate every time you want to build a greenhouse, and you can’t go to Switzerland because you will be reported to your neighbours by the police and subsequently shot in the head if you don’t sweep your lawn properly, and you can’t go to Italy because you’ll soon tire of waking up in the morning to find a horse’s head in your bed because you forgot to give a man called Don a bundle of used notes for “organising” a plumber.

You can’t go to Australia because it’s full of things that will eat you, you can’t go to New Zealand because they don’t accept anyone who is more than 40 and you can’t go to Monte Carlo because they don’t accept anyone who has less than 40 million. And you can’t go to Spain because you’re not called Del and you weren’t involved in the Walthamstow blag. And you can’t go to Germany ... because you just can’t.

The Caribbean sounds tempting, but there is no work, which means that one day, whether you like it or not, you’ll end up like all the other expats, with a nose like a burst beetroot, wondering if it’s okay to have a small sharpener at 10 in the morning. And, as I keep explaining to my daughter, we can’t go to America because if you catch a cold over there, the health system is designed in such a way that you end up without a house, or dead.

Canada’s full of people pretending to be French, South Africa’s too risky, Russia’s worse and everywhere else is too full of snow, too full of flies or too full of people who want to cut your head off on the internet. So you can dream all you like about upping sticks and moving to a country that doesn’t help itself to half of everything you earn and then spend the money it gets on bus lanes and advertisements about the dangers of salt. But wherever you go you’ll wind up an alcoholic or dead or bored or in a cellar, in an orange jumpsuit, gently wetting yourself on the web. All of these things are worse than being persecuted for eating a sandwich at the wheel.

I see no reason to be miserable. Yes, Britain now is worse than it’s been for decades, but the lunatics who’ve made it so ghastly are on their way out. Soon, they will be back in Hackney with their South African nuclear-free peace polenta. And instead the show will be run by a bloke whose dad has a wallpaper shop and possibly, terrifyingly, a weasel looking twerp in Belgium whose fruitless game of hunt-the-WMD has netted him £15m on the lecture circuit.

So actually I do see a reason to be miserable. Which is why I think it’s a good idea to tie Peter Mandelson to a van. Such an act would be cruel and barbaric and inhuman. But it would at least cheer everyone up a bit. ********Ends.

Socialism, which is the ideology of the Labour Party, is but one step away from Communism and but two steps from Marxism. There are still some that witnessed the birth of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics and there are many more that witnessed death of this Socialist monster. Their people too lost their freedom of speech and their press was state controlled.

Does this tale worry you? It should. It’s not just that we are sick to death of the slow, creeping, calculated destruction of OUR country. It is time for the frightened sheeple who only dare speak in hushed tones in the privacy of their homes to speak out as this brave Briton has done.

Since this article was published the enslaved British people have voted to leave the European occupied countries and have regained some semblance of freedom but still have a long way to go, but nevertheless the politicians still do not speak for the people only for their political party and for the security of their position.

Thursday, 8 September 2016




As a foreword I would like to point out the BBC was always regarded as a highly revered broadcaster and still is. Its problem was and still is as being a government funded entity and thus has to follow the government political stand which is no different from any other government broadcaster anywhere in the world be it from Europe, South America, Asia or even North Korea. It broadcasts high quality drama, Natural history, but its bias and unbalance in reporting political events is glaringly obvious. Some might say legendary.

 It appears to have two separate departments one which broadcasts high quality TV entertainment and the other that transmits programmes such as News, Talks, Current Affairs those being vehicles of the propaganda arm of the government. Its panel style political programmes hosted by left leaning aging grey haired presenters use what appears to be carefully chosen panels and stacked audiences, this is very apparent in the type of programmes when there is Left and Right leaning political groups putting their viewpoint across. Of course it has been accused of being ‘Common Purpose’ influenced. It is certainly socialist influenced as our Government is Statist

The BBC’s style of broadcasting changed almost immediately after WW2 when the powers decided to form a New Europe. To do this Nationalist feelings or feelings of ethnic National identity had to be vilified as Narnsey-like and racist or a New Europe was NEVER going to work. The move to form a European community was the first hurdle and first tentative step towards a single Europe and the National Broadcaster was employed as a vehicle for propaganda to influence the people to embrace a single European entity, a European Government and its message has continued until its rejection at the recent Brexit referendum.

ARTICLE STARTS Peter Farrell, one of our supporters has kindly passed on a transcript of a programme broadcast on Radio 4 on Thursday 3rd February 2000, entitled “A Letter to the Times”. It is a shocking exposé of the underhand tactics used by a number of leading Europhiles in the run-up to our joining the EEC in 1973.

In December 1970, six months after Edward Heath’s unexpected election victory, an opinion poll showed that only 18% of the UK electorate supported him in his long-term dream of taking our country into the EEC. A massive 70% were opposed. While the decision on accession was to be taken by Parliament, it was apparent to Heath that he would never gain a parliamentary majority in the face of overwhelming public opposition.

While some of the tactics he used are well-known, notably disguising the political project as an economic project and not mentioning loss of sovereignty, other underhand tricks employed at this time have only come out into the open more recently.

The programme revealed one particularly successful tactic: a barrage of letters to the Times during the autumn of 1970 all apparently written by MPs who supported accession. In reality, these MPs only signed them; they were all produced by an ardently pro-European PA to the MP Sir Tufton Beamish.

But how were the rest of the population, who didn’t read the Times, to be converted? Equally clandestine methods were used.

Those of us of a certain age will remember the name Jack de Manio, who presented the Today programme from 1958 until 1971 and who was twice voted British Radio Personality of the Year. He was also strongly Eurosceptic. Geoffrey Tucker, who was closely linked to Heath and who organised breakfasts for supporters of accession, lobbied for his removal. The following year, the programme was reorganised to feature two presenters. De Manio was not happy with the new arrangement and resigned.

A coincidence? Whatever, by 1971, the BBC had been effectively “nobbled.” The managing director of BBC Radio, Ian Trethowan, was another friend of Edward Heath and was very willing to accede to the wishes of Geoffrey Tucker’s breakfast group to deal with any broadcasters perceived to be opposed to accession. Far from being an organ of impartiality, the BBC became the main propaganda vehicle used to shift public opinion in these crucial years.

However, the most disturbing revelation in this programme was the funding of the European Movement by the American CIA. Dr Richard Aldrich, a political historian, came across the archived documents of a CIA front organisation which poured millions of dollars into the UK. In typical CIA style, the audit trail had made it difficult to trace the source of the European Movement’s funding, but it seems that even the office cleaners ultimately were being paid by US intelligence!

Heath himself was interviewed in the documentary and he is heard expressing his regret that the job was never fully done. He described the subsequent rise of euro-scepticism within the Conservative Party as “the most devastating blow of all.” However, in view of the deceit he encouraged, such a man deserves no sympathy whatsoever.

The only person to come out at all well from the programme is Roy Hattersley. Although a pro-European, he was horrified by the tactics being used during this period. He attended one of Tucker’s breakfasts and was so appalled by what he heard that he never went again. In his opinion, the use of spin all those years ago, has prejudiced the argument ever since.

Telling words indeed and vital lessons for supporters of withdrawal as the referendum looms. Already, one has a sense of déja vu as one businessman after another is given air time on the BBC saying how disastrous it would be to leave the EU. Our opponents are not going to play fair, but we cannot allow them to get away with it this time ENDS.

Let me remind you of the treachery of our politicians………and it continues today with the possibility of WW3 and collapse of our export market if Brexit was successful

“There is NO question of eroding any national sovereignty; there is NO blueprint for a federal Europe. There are some in this country who fear that in going into Europe, we shall in some way sacrifice independence and sovereignty. These fears I need hardly say are completely unjustified"

Edward Heath, British Prime Minister 1972

"The aim was, and is... ever closer political union.
Edward Heath 1989
1990, in response to the question "Did you have in mind a United States of Europe in 1972?"

‘Of course, yes”

I have no words to describe how I feel about a person who would cause so much harm to his own country. His only defence he is a politician