Showing posts with label islington. Show all posts
Showing posts with label islington. Show all posts

Monday, 14 March 2022

Superstar St Jeremy








As I've often pointed out in the past, even though it earns me no credit, that I enjoyed Donald Trump in power, although in the final analysis, he's a Zionist and so his loyalty is to Israel first not the USA. 

Once again, I enjoyed Trump being part of the plan, but he's not the plan. 

A lot of people struggle with that.

I also like the persona of Jeremy Corbyn. He's an allotment owner and a wood turner (as is my father) which are the sort of hobbies people should do and still have. 

I watched JC as he tried to take a middle road for BREXIT which was political suicide, but also as he was branded an anti-Semite by the far right Zionist Chosenites who are disproportionately represented in the media circus currently too busy selling big pharma and war in the Ukraine, he was dead in the water.

Not many people know that Islington was the only constituency in the UK that had historically proven child sex trafficking in every single children's home. It was the easiest place in the country for powerful entities to pick up what they wanted twenty-four/seven. 

Corbyn has been the MP for Islington since 1983 

I couldn't understand why the leading social worker representing children in Isington, Dr Liz Davies approached Corbyn on more than one occasions to investigate. Each time she pressured him, he was non committal , disappointingly uninvested in the subject, and vague about his feelings on the matter.

Then under pressure, he reassured Dr Davies and others, that the people on the ground who knew what was going on, in Islington, his constituency specifically were satisfied that the matter was resolved.

What was resolved Jeremy? 

You're a public servant. 

How many born after 1969 are no longer with us? 

That's not impossible for ONS to provide.

People wrote to The Saint

They called and confronted him, time and again but no action was taken. I contacted Liz Davies to understand if it was a comprehension issue but she assured me that the gravity of the situation had been made unambiguously clear.

Now, I don't know why JC did fuck all to stop child rape on his manor. I really can't speak for him, so until he explains how many, and who he raised the matter with, the matter is grave and unfinished.

Eileen Fairweather of The Independent and The Evening Satandard railed against Corbyn again and time and again. Because vulnerable boys were being raped by men. Islington council's defence was that this concern was homophobic. Well, I know many unpleasant facts about this subject and men who rape children often prefer boys not for homosexual reasons, but as a taste preference that doesn't exist in their daily heterosexual relationships that ostensibly conceal secret lives. 




The powerful and ennobled Lord Mann attacked the former Mayor of London, Ken Livingstone for stating a book called Transfer Agreement documents Zionist collaboration with the Nazis. Lord John Mann was exceptionally tireless on this subject. He wrote to Corbyn the following.
















Jeremy protected Tony Blair's first Minister for Children, Margaret Hodge, the former leader of Islington Council who destroyed anyone who asked questions and was subsequently promoted by Tony from the back-benches to the cabinet as Minister for Children  charged with placating Islington's concerns that every hard working taxi driver and amoral chauffeur knew about the youngsters in the back of their vehicles they used for delivery to the rich and powerful.


Sanna Hosanna Hey Superstar, also attacked the pugilist, yet isolated MP who put a dossier on the Westminster Child Rapist Network in front of the home secretary Leon Brittan [David Mellor denied being present before it was pointed out the administrations documentation confirmed he was with his Home Secretary boss thus corroborating Geoffrey Dickens statement on the matter.]

Only the ennobled John Mann can tell us who who who is in it.











Jeremy never asked the MPs Peter and Virginia (Now Baroness) Bottomley about why they were shocked.


But it's the former heavyweight boxer, the mocked and ridiculed Tory MP turned child campaigner that Jezza savaged in the commons. 

You know Westminster.

When they feed on sacrificial blood, both sides of the house chant 'here here' just in case the dumb-fuck British are confused where and who is authorising it.




These days the Bentley's don't cruise The Angel.

There's no need. 

The children's court is held in secret session. I'll leave it to you if you want to pinpoint how many children go missing in care, or why the state has precedence over grandparents yearning to care for their grandchildren who have told me to my face that they aren't allowed to complain.

Tuesday, 26 January 2016

James Reeves



My name is James Reeves. I was born in 1946. I was in a children’s home
called Beecholme, in Banstead, Surrey. I was in a house in the children’s home
called Jasmine. I think I was 7 years old – had spent younger years in foster
care. I can remember their names – the Porters. My foster dad wasn’t involved
in abuse that I remember it’s the only thing I remember about foster carers
except on one birthday my foster dad bought me a brown 3 wheel tricycle. I
can remember standing on the kitchen table just a cloth nappy on being abused
by women and grown up children, being locked in some cupboard for hours
every day that’s all I can remember from foster care.

My next memory is Beecholme, Jasmine house. I was taken there by a woman
who handed me over to the House Mistress of Jasmine House. That woman
who took me to Jasmine House was my mother. The next time we would meet
was when I was 12. I was shown into a dining room then stripped naked, was
beaten on my bottom hard by the House Mistress, Miss Cullen. I was then
taken into a large bathroom with 2 baths end to end. The bathroom was crowded
with other naked boys and girls, one bath was for boys, the other was for girls.
The water was never changed. There were 2 other female staff in there; one
Miss Malden, the other Miss Kilbane (who was lovely throughout my stay and
had no hand in any off my abuses). After bath, we were marched out up the
stairs to our dormitories. It must have been not more than 20 minutes later, I
remember being pulled roughly out off my bed by a man who took my
nightshirt off and took me downstairs. I was told to face the wall, opposite a
room which was occupied by people. Every time any one came out of that room
I was slapped hard on my bare bum. I was standing facing the wall for what
seemed like ages, then I heard people leaving the room and going out the front
door. I was then blind-folded and taken into that room and sexually assaulted
by 2 people. One tried to bugger me, but stopped when I screamed. Next I
remember something hard being put in my mouth. I was crying and shaking
with fear, I was so scared. I was told to suck on the thing in my mouth, but was
whacked round the head. I heard one person say “He’s no good – his teeth are
digging in”. I was then taken back to my dormitory and put into bed, told not to
look round or I would get it. The person removed the blindfold. I was frozen,
scared, crying. Then I heard the door shut. I lay there scared to move. I must
have fallen asleep.

We were woken up by Miss Malden, the other staff member. I tried to speak to
her but she would not listen to me. I tried to talk to Miss Cullen who seemed in
charged of Jasmine House. She pulled me into her office and told me ”Children
who lie are sent away to bad places. Is that what you want?”. I remember
saying “No Miss”. I know they had a school there but can’t seem to think about that. I remember
we were all at our tables for tea. After tea, Miss Cullen used to put her chair in
the middle of the dining room floor and call us boys to stand in line. She then
would one-by-one strip us and spank our bottoms hard in front of the girls. This
happened every night after tea, 7 days of every week. Other times at dinner,
puddings were served. 10 times while I was there they served figs and custard.
I was eating a fig it was horrible and I was sick all over my pudding, and was
forced to eat it. Other times I was sick over figs and custard, Miss Kilbane
(when she saw Miss Cullen go) would come and remove it and give me a
cuddle. She seemed helpless and – I don’t know – I’m sure a few times she had
tears in her eyes.

I never saw men in the house during the day, only at nights when they used to
take me downstairs and repeat their abuse. God knows how many other boys
there were abused like me, at nights. It was no good complaining, no one would
listen to me. One day I was told I was leaving, to be taken to another children’s
home. I was picked up by car by a LCC Social Worker. I was driven to Hutton
children’s residential home, in Shenfield, Essex. I was taken into a large house,
called Thames. All the other houses were named after rivers. I was never
sexually abused there by any staff members. Though one boy was, in a
different house and his abuser Mr Brabbon was sentenced to six month prison.

Whilst there somehow some of us were invited to the Billy Cotton Band Show
Christmas party, which was shown on BBC television. I was one of the kids
who went. It was late 1950’s or early 1960’s. I can remember being seated at
the tables full of food. There was Russ Conway, a woman singer and my abuser
Alan Breeze. I didn’t know his name at the time. I asked Russ Conway his
name. It happened in the men’s toilets. I was in there when Alan Breeze said
“You going to toilet?”. I said “Yes”. “Let me help you.” he said and started
touching my penis. He had his hand down my trousers holding my bum. I was
trying to pull away, when someone else entered the toilet. I think he saw what
was happening and he pulled me away, and sent me out of the toilet. As I left I
complained to someone – a man – about what happened. He told me to go away
and sit down, which I did. I was so upset and angry. I tried telling Billy Cotton
but couldn’t get near him or Russ Conway anymore. I tried to tell staff at the
home, but they laughed and walked away.

From that day, I was totally confused and felt alone. It got so bad I was taken to
The Maudsley hospital, who after listening to my story told the person who took
me there they wanted to keep me in. On hearing that, I ran out of the hospital
and was found by my taker outside a big hospital opposite. I was crying and
said “No one believes me! I am not staying in that place!”. I was taken back to
the home and put on anti-depressants. I have never forgotten my abuse – it still
haunts me to this day.

Wednesday, 21 November 2007

The Hub

I went to The Hub not so long ago and was bowled over by the energy in the place which is ironic because they are all social entrepreneurs and very adept at saving energy for themselves and their clients. I want to show you a short film clip of their most creative hot spot. Right at the end I've revealed where it was filmed. Neat huh?




Tell the truth. Its more creative than most advertising agency departments isn't it?. Why? Because we need to tear down the department walls. Like yesterday.