It’s been a few days and I’ve enjoyed some time on coast with family. Breathe in breathe out.
I was tempted to write this entry using my academic abilities. I could have approached this with a sociological angle. Big words only a few would comprehend. I considered a journalistic approach, hard hitting and full of hidden overtones and innuendoes. I decided not to use all the methods learned over the years. I’ll leave that to the established social commentators. There’s no shortage of them.
Nothing seems to have changed on the internet. Stories and conspiracies are flying about like camp fire embers on a windy night. They rise up and up then disappear into the darkness, gone forever. The fire from which they emerge however stills burns and warms those telling the true story behind the newsnight piece. We share the causes and consequences of an individual’s word. The rest of the world has no idea. Just the few people who have enough intelligence to comprehend the far reaching consequences of this scenario are seated around the fire. Some stoke and poke the fire now and then, well you would wouldn’t you? It’s what happens. Passers-by try to piss on it for fun and some try to steal you wood supply. But the fire still burns.
I use the above analogy because I find it very suitable and personal. It is my blog. Unlike all the others bar one or two, I’m reliving the experiences that led us to this station in life. Too many of those online “bloggers” are too keen to share old news and old footage of old lies and old liars. I’ve not yet read a single word in any MSM blog which hasn’t been written before. It may be presented as new, it might have a new theme a new look, a new angle. Alas, it’s the same shit that’s been written for 25 years. Some authors (carefully chosen word) have gone so far as to spread wholesale lies about me and others who’ve challenged the generically excepted crap dished out by Angus Stickler and TBJI and the BBC and others. I’ve been labeled all sorts. Other fellow ex-residents who’ve taken to the net have also come under fire. We stand by each other and we stand by our version of events. The Truth.
I’d like to take you back to the start for me 1988. I was approached, in work, by the very first reputable TV organisation I’d ever heard of. Yorkshire TV’s documentary series First Tuesday” was a program I’d always watched. Hard hitting and in-depth, FT had credibility. The journalist was Mandy Wragg, her producer was James Cutler. Alison Taylor had brought them to Wrexham to meet me. We spent an afternoon discussing what might have been someone else. I’d never considered myself an abuse victim until the words were spoken to me. From that day onwards until 2000 (ish), I led the life of an abuse victim. Never before had I thought of myself as a victim. So that’s it. That’s why I am the way I am. My drinking, pot habit, violent temper, personal hygiene and attitude to authority, all had a rationale behind them. It’s not my fault. I’m not to blame for my crimes. I’m a victim. I adopted the title on many occasions, usually in the magistrate’s court. It worked. Many sentences were reduced to my background and my “abuse”. It was fitting for someone who lived the life I was living. We filmed for a day or two. We lunched and we dined. I also drank a lot. It was free. A few months later I was informed the program had been shelved. “Not enough meat” apparently. No shit.
HTV Wales were next. Alison Taylor had lined up an interview with David Williams et al. Williams was an established ex-BBC hack. He’d wined and dined with the Westminster hacks long before I was the story. We (me the victim) had an open relationship, or so I thought. I’d never get to see the final edited version. I’d never know who else was featured until the screening. It was, I discovered later in life just an interviewee and an interviewer relationship. We stay in touch but only because I e-mail him and replies. Williams had an authority and political players were aware of such. His work attracted viewers. But that’s all it was, work. He was one of the hacks that named Gordon Anglesea before the libel trial. He was desperate to prove the un-provable. HTV paid the price. I’ve participated in at least seven HTV productions. Williams had connections. He’s now back at the BBC working with Huw Edwards on more stories. The last time I seen him he was filming at the top of Snowdon with the former Chief Constable of North Wales, Richard Brunstrum. They do like to mix in the same circles don’t they? Anyway I’ve been in some serious situations with DW and would love to share but not now.
BBC Wales have used me more than most. The hours I’ve given them can’t be quantified. Things got to the extent whereby I was trusted with the latest camera and kit and told to go and film myself and my life for six weeks. They used less than a minute of it. Mixed in their own footage and aired the five minute short “5 Days on Anglesey”. It was part of the Taking Care thread………apparently. Although now a graduate to all in my life bubble, I was still a victim to the MSM. No doubts the majority of them still perceive me as such, the feelings mutual. Being the victim is something I can get away from. Being owned by the BBC is something you’re stuck with for life. All but one or two of the BBC staff who’ve I’ve met are the same. Not one had experienced a poor back ground. All had stable and enjoyable childhoods. They couldn’t empathise so offered sympathy instead.
I’ve estimated my total number of interviews runs into the 200 mark. I appeared on TV and in publications all over the world. I’ve met the high and the mighty at the BBC, including Ester Rantzen, Robert Kilroy Silk. Both, in their time were the big knobs and the ones who’d “get your story out”. Bollocks. Both were up their own arses and concerned only with paying their mortgages. People like me were everyday fodder for the masses. We were fed and the masses ate. It’s been the same for nearly 30 years. Not anymore though. Not now, not ever. I can write my own story without any editorial influences or input. It is what it is. My version of what happened. You might not agree or like this version but you can’t change it. You can’t make me undo my experiences to suit your own ideology about the north Wales care system.
More recently, from November 2nd to be precise, things have escalated to the extent whereby I’ve found myself writing until the early hours of the morning. I’d normally be tucked up reading by 10pm and contently asleep an hour later. Angus Stickler changed all that. Helped by Messham and others he has created such an upheaval, I’m almost at the point of appearing on video and sharing my experiences. I’m aware of the sheeple’s need for imagery and may end up providing such. Not by choice I would add.
So what about the present regurgitation of old news? I’ve studied the beast and have inside knowledge of its workings. The beast is fat and lumbering. It’s been well fed and is content. Those who feed off the beasts nipples however are not content. The so called bloggers (plagiarists) the social networkers who claim to speak the truth, have yet to be satisfied. The morsels thrown out by the BBC haven’t been sufficient enough to feed the runts who linger around its belly. They fight among each other for the scraps. Nothing it seems will change the masses opinion. Because they don’t want to believe anything other than what the MSM painted.
The MSM beast was up to something more sinister when they hauled their man in front of our screens. What was it all for? Why? Who? I can only give you my subjective thoughts based on more than two decades of in depth involvement. It’s a biblical size attempt to hide the BBC’s failings. Someone somewhere knew and assisted Savile. Some, a few at the top of the tree have successfully have hidden another story bigger than the story you are reading. It’s deep and it’s dark and it’s nearly buried. The grave was dug and the body was about to be lowered down. Then some started asking questions about the reliability of the chief witness, the only witness. Vulnerable and predisposed to his “friends” in the machine he gave them a cover story. No one can doubt it nearly worked. It hasn’t though. Their game involved the likes of me. I didn’t want to play. I was forced into it. I know the cheats and the back allies of this game. I’ve played before. No winners in this game just a population of losers who pay to see and hear the lies laid out on the game board. Millions believe the shit rammed down their throats every day. Don’t be upset you’re probably one of them. I was. There was nothing anyone could do until the creation of this platform, the Internet. How many have read and believed the truth from this blog? I know not. But I do know a 100,000 of the population now have a different perspective to that offered by the Main Stream Media and the pretend bloggers who’re after hits. This blog will never make the headlines. I’ll never be interviewed (my choice) about what the truth is because it doesn’t suit the gate keepers who drip feed the license payers. Those that dwell in the high glass fronted offices of newsrooms all over the UK and further afield will never give this blog the time of day. Why should they? There’s no blood, buggery or big names. No sex gangs, no millionaires, nothing that satisfies their needs. It isn’t bleeding, therefore it isn’t leading.
I’ll leave you with a word. The word was sent to me by Angus Stickler. For me it sums up the whole BBC establishments attitude to the public. He knew when he replied to my text that he’d been used as part of the cover-up by those who’ll he’ll never meet and who own him. My text was sent at 19.44pm on the 5/11/2012. It read “Oh dear, what have you done?” His reply; Make what you want of it. at 19.47pm.
“WHOOPS”. (Dictionary: after telling secret or upsetting someone. used when you realize that you have just said something that should have remained a secret or that may upset someone.
Says it all really. Peace