The Village

Recent posts have touched on how some of the paedophiles’ friends pride themselves on being Arty, in their capacities as collectors but also in terms of them occupying positions of responsibility in museums, galleries or in Gov’t roles relating to the Arts.

Dafydd’s mate Robert Bluglass excels in this field, he owns Compton Verney in Warwickshire, one of the finest galleries in Europe. In 1993, Compton Verney was purchased in a run-down state by the Peter Moores Foundation, a ‘charity supporting music and visual arts’, established by Littlewoods Chairman Peter Moores, who restored it to a gallery capable of housing international exhibitions. In 1993, my career had been destroyed, as had the media career of my friend who wanted to make a documentary about the mental health services in north Wales and the North Wales Police closed their investigation into the abuse of children in care, concluding that there was ‘no evidence’ of a paedophile ring. Thousands of statements had been taken, hundreds of complaints made and a file was sent to the CPS, yet there were no prosecutions.

In Oct 1993, John Smith, the leader of the Labour Party, appointed Ron Davies as Shadow Secretary of State for Wales. Ron and his mates were cheerleaders for devolution and it was assumed by everyone that ‘when’ a Welsh Assembly was created, Ron would be First Secretary. It all fell apart when Ron had his moment of madness on Clapham Common with a male prostitute called Boogie, just before Blair was about to make Ron First Secretary in the newly established Welsh Assembly (see post ‘Cottaging At Castle Gate’).

Compton Verney Art Gallery is now run by Compton Verney House Trust, a registered charity no less. The charity in question is one Professor Robert Bluglass, who’s ‘Trust’ is ‘supported’ by the Peter Moores Foundation, after the Peter Moores Foundation transferred Compton Verney to the management of Bluglass’s blood-soaked, safe hands. In March 2004, the Compton Verney Art Gallery was opened by Prince Charles. That’s the Prince Charles who’s office told Alison Taylor that he ‘could not get involved’ when Alison Taylor wrote and told him that children in care in north Wales were being abused; the Prince Charles who was Chancellor of UCNW when Bluglass’s mate Dafydd and his colleagues were using their roles in the College to run a sex trafficking ring; the Prince Charles who’s friend Gerald Cavendish Grosvenor, the Duke of Westminster, was the President of the City of Chester Conservative Association whilst Peter Morrison, the constituency MP was abusing kids in care in north Wales; the Prince Charles who’s mater knighted Peter Morrison in Feb 1991, the month after I’d been forced out of my job at St George’s Hospital Medical School and was facing possible imprisonment after Dafydd’s colleagues Tony and Sadie Francis had perjured themselves.

Charles, what on earth are you doing mixed up in all this??? You’re the bloody heir to the throne, Bluglass has played a leading role in an international sex trafficking racket and the most probable explanation for Bluglass’s paws being on one of the finest art galleries in Europe is that it is the means by which he is laundering money. This is a very long way from the Duchy Organic range of expensive biscuits. It is, as you might say yourself, ‘sort of…um thingy…um appalling…’. Or if you are anything like the ‘Private Eye’ spoof of you in ‘Heir Of Sorrows’ you might. Heir of serious organised crime. It really is appalling. Pass me an oatcake, this is even more ridiculous than Jimmy Savile offering Charles and Di marriage guidance.

An online guide to ‘Greeting The Queen’ reassures readers that they mustn’t worry about what to say, they must just curtsy.

‘Have you come far?’ ‘Yes, I’ve fled north Wales because your son’s associates tried to kill me.’

It has recently been reported that Charles will be giving evidence to the IICSA relating to Bishop Peter Ball. Peter Ball was imprisoned for 32 months in 2015, for sex offences against children carried out between the 1970s and the 90s. The police received their first report in 1992. No charges were brought, but Ball resigned. It has been revealed that Charles had exchanged letters with Ball and that an independent inquiry found that Ball had ‘exploited his contact’ with members of the Royal Family, but there was ‘no evidence’ that Charles or any other Royals ‘sought to intervene at any point in order to protect or promote Ball’. Well that’s a relief, it’s simply that Charles is constantly rubbing noses with people who are involved with child abuse but can’t ‘get involved’ when he receives a letter telling him that someone has witnessed them abusing kids, it’s really nothing more sinister than that.

When Ball was reported for child abuse in 1992, the CPS received over 2000 letters of support for him, including letters from Cabinet Ministers and members of the Royal Family. It has not been made public who those Cabinet Ministers or Royals were. I was unaware that the CPS ever accepted ‘letters of support’. When I was prosecuted for ‘looking at a social worker in Safeways’ and for ‘calling Alun Davies a fat idiot’, no-one ever told me that I could get my mates to write to the CPS in support of me. I don’t know anyone else who was given that opportunity either.

Well it just goes to show that it’s one rule for molesting Bishops and another rule for the victims of sex trafficking gangs…

It has been admitted that Ball ‘tried to use his contact with with Charles to influence George Carey’, who was Archbishop of Canterbury at the time. I’m not sure that Ball will have needed to do that, George Carey used to be the Bishop of Bath and Wells and Somerset had one ‘dirty vicar’ known to me who molested the Brownies and Guides and another vicar who married a girl of about nineteen when he was nearly 50, who violently assaulted the kids in the local primary school and then nicked the money from the Church. Neither of them faced charges and ‘Bishop George’ – as Brown’s mum used to respectfully call him – did bugger all. All we ever heard about Bishop George were his fund-raising schemes such as the offer for the bereaved to sponsor a pipe of the organ in Wells Cathedral in memory of their loved one. Those pipes came at a very high price and it always sounded like a bit of a con to me.

Now that the paedophiles’ friends have bumped Brown’s dad off, I’ll reveal a state secret. When Col Brown organised HM Lilibet’s Silver Jubilee Celebrations in Bristol – for which Lilibet gave him an OBE – Col Brown wrote to the Palace to ask what to do about providing a bog for Lilibet, only not using that expression obviously. He received a letter back telling him that Lilibet ‘will not need to retire’. How Lilibet knew that she wouldn’t need to go for a piddle I do not know. Perhaps she’s had her pelvic floor tightened by Professor Stuart Stanton at St George’s Hospital Medical School, although she might not have risked going under his knife – his junior doctors all used to observe ‘God, I wouldn’t let him operate on me’.

 

I recommend that readers visit the Compton Verney website in order to see photos of the landscaped gardens (they were designed by Capability Brown no less) and the treasures that pack Bluglass’s house of ill-gotten gains. Meanwhile, here’s the spiel encouraging interested parties to join in the crime spree:

Corporate Sponsorship and Membership

Let’s all join in a chorus of ‘Delilah’ – ‘She stood there laughing’…

What a bunch of dickwits, even if they are serious criminals of dickwits.

 

Robert Bluglass is not the only paedophiles’ friend – indeed even Dafydd’s friend – who has an interest in art. Lloyd Tyrell-Kenyon, the 5th Baron Kenyon, who’s son Thomas died of HIV/AIDS but before that was known to be abusing at least one boy in care in north Wales, was, among all his many other public positions (see post ‘A Bit More Paleontology’), Chairman of Gwasg Gregynog Press, 1978-91; President of the National Museum of Wales, 1952-57; a Trustee of the National Portrait Gallery, 1955-88 and a member of the Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, 1966-93. It was Lord Kenyon who was credited with transforming the National Portrait Gallery from a small specialist museum into ‘one of the great national galleries’.

 

Previous posts have noted how many paedophiles’ friends have been involved with the Arts Council of Great Britain. Harold Wilson’s friend and crooked solicitor Lord Arnold Goodman was Chair of the Arts Council, 1965-72 and had a symbiotic relationship with Jennie Lee, Nye Bevan’s widow, who was Minister of Arts, 1964-70, under Harold Wilson (see post ‘The White Heat Of This Revolution’). Goodman was succeeded by Lord Patrick Gibson who was Chair of the Arts Council, 1972-77. Gibson was the paedophiles’ friend who knew that the victims of Dafydd and the paedophiles were being contained in low paid seasonal jobs at Penrhyn Castle (see post ‘Today We Have Naming Of Parts’). Sir Kenneth Robinson was Chairman, 1977-82. Robinson did Dafydd and the paedophiles a great many favours when Robinson was Health Minister, 1964-68 under Wilson and then again in his capacity as the President of the National Institute for Mental Health (MIND) (see post ‘The White Heat Of This Revolution’). Sir William Rees-Mogg was Chairman of the Arts Council, 1982-89. Mystic Mogg was a political appointment of Thatcher’s – he was a Tory, the former Editor of ‘The Times’, 1967-81 and a BBC Governor. He was also Chairman of the publishers Pickering and Chatto and a columnist for The Indie and the ‘Daily Mail’. Mystic Mogg stated in his memoirs in 2011 that Murdoch had been excellent for ‘The Times’ and for Fleet Street.

In April 1986, ‘The Times’ reported the case of Ceryl Wyn Davies, the Gwynedd Headmaster who was imprisoned for abusing his pupils, after being allowed to return to teaching in spite of a previous prison sentence for abusing his pupils (see post ‘Today We Have Naming Of Parts’). ‘The Times’ had reported on a scandal involving the serious neglect of Dafydd’s patients at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh some 20 yrs previously, but remained silent about north Wales abuse horrors from 1986 onward. Rupert Murdoch bought ‘The Times’ in 1981 and Sir Simon Jenkins, who has a home in Gwynedd, was Editor of ‘The Times’, 1990-92 (see post ‘Today We Have Naming Of Parts’). Simon must have missed that police investigation and all those deaths…

 

Rees-Mogg had a house in Somerset but spent most of his time in London, although he waved his Somerset credentials about a lot. He was High Sheriff of Somerset, 1975-78, so he would have known Brown’s father, who was Deputy Lieutenant at about the same time.

Mystic Mogg was of course the father of Jacob. When I was at school, Jacob featured in the ‘Western Daily Press’ and when he was about 10 yrs old he was promoted as a child prodigy with regard to his investments on the stock market. The ‘Western Daily Press’ was a sort of west country version of ‘The Sun’, a right wing newspaper which contained a lot of sex stories, although not pics of topless teenagers. The ‘Western Daily Press’ caught a whiff of sex everywhere, even when reporting serious harm or death. One memorable headline was ‘It’s Sex On Top Of The Cliff, Then Over We Go’, which was a report about quite a dangerous accident.

The ‘Western Daily Press’ also really maxed out on Diana Dors because she was from Swindon, but they had to keep remembering not to mention that her friends were gangsters and armed robbers. I think that Dors and her mates hung out at the Webbington Country Club near Bristol, which was viewed as a sort of Sodom and Gomorrah, the scene of gun fights and a venue for prostitution. The ‘Western Daily Press’ did manage to report it when Dors’ husband the actor Alan Lake was found shot dead. Lake’s death was always attributed to suicide but now I have a greater understanding of the circles in which he and Dors moved, I am wondering if questions were deliberately not asked about that death. As a young man, Lake went to prison after a particularly vicious pub brawl, which resulted in his mate Leapy Lee receiving an even longer sentence than Lake because he stabbed the pub’s relief manager. Leapy Lee was a rather lame pop singer who’s only hit was with the song ‘Little Arrows’. It would be a bit like Peter Noone of Herman’s Hermits being banged up for stabbing someone.

One of the Hergest Unit patients who derived such entertainment from Dafydd used to chunder on in a Dafydd-voice about Dafydd listening to Herman’s Hermits records. The joke arose from an incident in which Dafydd had tried to get down with the kids – the man in question had been sectioned and was telling Dafydd that he had gone up into the mountains and ‘I ate some grass’. To which Dafydd responded ‘do ewe mean mari-jew-ana?’ and the Hergest patient said ‘no, grass’. So Dafydd asked ‘why were ewe eating grass?’ The Hergest patient replied ‘because I was thirsty’. Dafydd diagnosed paranoid schizophrenia. I had no idea at the time that Dafydd’s gang were selling disadvantaged kids and young people to rock stars for sex, I just used to roll around laughing at Dafydd’s idea of the counter-culture. Who knows, perhaps Herman and his Hermits were buying underaged boys off Dafydd, along with everyone else.

‘There’s a Kind of Hush All Over the World’
Hushallover.jpg
 One track by Herman’s Hermits was ‘You Won’t Be Leaving’.
PROJ3CTM4YH3M Urban Exploration | Urbex: Denbigh Lunatic ...

After coming out of prison, Alan Lake had a serious riding accident which nearly paralysed him and then he became an alcoholic and experienced psychotic episodes. He was treated by a Top Doctor, but I don’t know who. Lake became seriously depressed after Dors’ died and in Oct 1984 he was found dead having been shot in the head after taking his son to the railway station. His body was found in his son’s bedroom.

Lake played parts in the TV programmes ‘The Underworld’, ‘Locate And Destroy’, ‘Dixon Of Dock Green’, ‘Crown Court’, ‘Angels’, ‘No Hiding Place’, ‘Paint Me A Murder’ and ‘Hart To Hart’. His films included ‘Catch Us If You Can’.

 

Mystic Mogg’s daughter Annunziata stood unsuccessfully for a Somerset constituency for the Tories in the 2010 General Election and caused much mirth by calling herself ‘Nancy Mogg’ for electioneering purposes. Not that it fooled anyone.

 

In 1989 Lord Peter Palumbo succeeded Mystic Mogg as Chairman of the Arts Council and remained in post until 1993. Tory peer Palumbo is the son of Randolph Palumbo, himself a major property developer. Peter Palumbo was educated at Eton and then studied at Worcester College, Oxford. In 1972 Palumbo bought Farnsworth House in the US, expanded and improved the house by adding furniture of the man who designed the house and by purchasing adjacent properties and placing in them the work of eminent sculptors. Palumbo sold the property at auction to the National Trust for historic preservation in 2003. Palumbo also owns other swish properties in the US and for a time owned a Le Corbusier in Paris. In 1994 Palumbo demolished the Mappin & Webb building in the City of London and replaced it with a building designed by Sir James Stirling, which was opened by the Governor of the Bank of England, Eddie George.

Palumbo was a Trustee of the Tate, 1978-85 and Chairman of its foundation, 1986-87. He served as a Trustee for the Whitechapel Art Gallery and of the Natural History Museum. He was Chairman of the Serpentine Gallery’s Board of Trustees. He was also the Chancellor of the University of Portsmouth and the Chairman of the Friends of Highgate Cemetery. He has been on the Board of Trustees of The Architecture Foundation. Palumbo is or was Chairman of the jury of the Pritzker Prize for Architecture.

Palumbo led the fundraising effort to resurrect and refurbish the Church of St Stephen Walbrook in London, a building by Sir Christopher Wren. Henry Moore was commissioned by Palumbo to build a stone altar for the church. The former rector of St Stephen Walbrook and founder of the Samaritans, Dr Chad Varah, was the family chaplain. 

There were considerable problems in Bangor after the Samaritans refused to help suicidal people if they were mental health patients because the Samaritans ‘weren’t trained’ and ‘people like that often kill themselves anyway’. What made it worse was that the Hergest Unit were refusing to treat many mental health patients and would simply give them the phone number of the Samaritans and then call the police to throw them out of the hospital.

Palumbo was a polo team mate of Prince Charles and the two were close until 1984 when Charles publicly criticised some of Palumbo’s architecture. Palumbo nevertheless still became godfather to Princess Beatrice.  

Palumbo was created a life peer by Thatch in Feb 1991 – the same month as Peter Morrison was knighted! 

 

Palumbo’s eldest son is Jamie Palumbo who in 2017 had an estimated fortune of £350 million. He was educated at Eton and Worcester College, Oxford. From 1984-92, Palumbo worked for Merrill Lynch and Morgan Grenfell. 

In Sept 1991 Jamie Palumbo, together with his school friend Humphrey Waterhouse and DJ Justin Berkmann, founded the Ministry of Sound nightclub in South London. Initially Palumbo lost control of the club to drug dealers and a fight to regain control ensued. One wonders to what extent Jamie Palumbo ‘regained control’. Ministry of Sound has expanded into a number of areas including recorded music, live events, digital media and merchandise. Ministry of Sound Recordings is the largest independent music company in the world. In 2016 Palumbo sold Ministry of Sound Recordings to the Sony Music Group for $104 million.

It was the Sony subsidiary Epic which gave the Super Furry Animals such a generous recording deal (see post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’). The leading light in the Super Furries was Gruff Rhys, the son of Ioan Bowen Rees who was Chief Exec of Gwynedd County Council whilst the paedophile ring made merry within the Council’s children’s homes.

In 1994 Palumbo launched legal proceedings against his father with his sister, claiming that his father had mismanaged the family trust and subsequently his father resigned as a trustee. In 2010 new proceedings were launched relating to another family trust, his father also resigned from this trust and paid legal fees. I hate to think what Jamie will do when his dad dies, the notion of ‘where’s a will there’s a relative’ will be taken to a whole new level.

Jamie Palumbo is a major donor to the Lib Dems and in Oct 2013 received a peerage.

 

In 1993 Alexander Ruthven, Earl Gowrie aka Grey Gowrie, became Chairman of the Arts Council of Great Britain. Grey Gowrie’s grandfather was Governor General of Australia and Gowrie was educated at Eton, Balliol College and Harvard.

Grey Gowrie succeeded to the earldom of Gowrie on the death of his grandfather on 2 May 1955; at the same time he succeeded as 2nd Viscount Ruthven of Canberra and 2nd Baron Gowrie of Canberra and of Dirleton (East Lothian). In 1956, he further succeeded his great-uncle the 10th Lord Ruthven of Freeland as 3rd Baron Ruthven of Gowrie.

Lord Gowrie inherited his estate in County Kildare from his great-aunt Sheelagh Blacker in 1967 and later sold it to Tony O’Reilly, to whom he also sold his Dublin home on Fitzwilliam Square. Sir Anthony O’Reilly is the billionaire Irish former businessman and international rugby union player. O Reilly led the Independent News & Media Group, 1973-09 and is the former CEO and Chairman of the H.J. Heinz Company. He was the leading shareholder of Waterford Wedgwood.

Gowrie lived partly in Ireland until 1983 and then moved to the marches region of Wales, while also maintaining a London residence for much of the period.

Grey Gowrie joined the Tory frontbench under Ted Heath in 1972 as a Whip and remained in position until 1974. He served under Thatcher as Minister of State for Employment, 1979-81 and as Minister of State for N Ireland, 1981-83. So Gowrie served in Thatcher’s Gov’t with Peter Morrison and would have been party to what had gone on at the Kincora Boys’ Home. Thatch then appointed Gowrie as Minister for the Arts, 1983-85. He was also Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster between 1984-85. Despite being offered the post of Secretary of State for Education and Science, Gowrie resigned from the Cabinet in 1985, stating that it was impossible for him to live in London on the salary provided for the post. Grey Gowrie is very rich and very posh, so ‘Private Eye’ made much of Gowrie’s low wages as a Cabinet Minister and there was comment about the need to stop the priceless work of art that was The Gowrie from leaving Britain.

Grey Gowrie was also Chairman of Sotheby’s, 1985–1994.

The Arts Council of Great Britain was divided in 1994 to form the Arts Council of England, Scottish Arts Council and Arts Council of Wales. At the same time the National Lottery was established and the Arts Council of England became one of the distribution bodies, thus The Gowrie was responsible for dishing out the dosh. The National Lottery was of course Thatcher’s big idea – Thatch maintained that it would provide an opportunity for the creation of more millionaires. If the old cow was still alive I’d remind her that it is quite difficult to make a living by gambling – even George Carman had to use his income as a corrupt barrister to subsidise his huge gaming debts – and contrary to the advert assuring us that it ‘could be you’, it was most unlikely to be. It’s called statistical probability, Thatch would have done well to have acquainted herself with the notion. However there have been a number of scandals when it has been revealed that Lottery money has been used for certain minority interests including gay and lesbian groups, some of which have not been what they pretended to be. The National Lottery looks kindly upon ‘mental health support groups’ and the like as well.

Now why would a filthy rich, multiply titled connoisseur of fine art and paedophiles’ friend like The Gowrie have been interested in causes like that? The Chairman of Sotheby’s was not going to be found sitting in the MIND ‘drop in’ in Bangor, being told that there was ‘nothing they could do’ when distressed Empowered Service Users recounted tales of serious crime on the part of the mental health services and others. There was someone who was banned from the Bangor MIND drop in – it was the Hergest patient who was a fine art graduate and who used to bang on about the World of Art and the filthy lucre and sexploitation involved. But Helen Milne, the inadequate, lame servant of Dafydd’s who ran the drop in, only banned him AFTER he’d given the lecture on art and the free lessons for the Empowered Service Users.

Helen’s colleague Alison Greenaway was the Bangor MIND co-ordinator for donkey’s years – then Alison trained as a psychiatric social worker and made her loyalties quite clear, as patients were found dead and went to prison – she didn’t say a word (see post ‘A Bit More About Those Very Muddy Waters’). Alison felt the call of social work at about the time of the Waterhouse Inquiry.

Meanwhile Helen Milne also led Bangor Rape Crisis.

It was an absolutely joke, there was not one ‘helping agency’ in north Wales that Dafydd and the paedophiles did not control. It seems that they even had The Gowrie in their pocket.

 

Dr Dafydd Alun Jones:

News Photo : British poet and Arts Minister Alexander ...

 

Alexander Patrick Greysteil Hore-Ruthven, 2nd Earl of Gowrie:

Dr Dafydd Alun Jones

 

 

Now if Wingett’s the auctioneers near Wrexham had been involved in channelling dosh to the paedophiles’ friends, it would not surprise me. This is the Chairman of Sotheby’s that we are talking about.

 

Lucille Hughes

 

The Gowrie lectured at Harvard and UCL and was Provost of the Royal College of Art. He is a Patron of the Elton John AIDS Foundation. Together with Rowan Williams and Sir Daniel Day-Lewis, he is a Patron of the ‘Wilfred Owen Association’. In terms of the subject matter of my post ‘Today We Have Naming Of Parts’, The Gowrie is a substantial part. The Gowrie was a founding Director of the British Friends of the National Gallery of Ireland.

In the summer of 1999, having been diagnosed with a serious heart condition, The Gowrie checked into Harefield Hospital and, after a heart transplant and a long recovery, left hospital in 2000. He became friends with his principal surgeon, Sir Magdi Yacoub and now Chairs the institute named for him. 

Magdi Yacoub worked with Dame Julia Polak, the person who was alleged to have been the most unscrupulous liar and fraudster at Hammersmith Hospital/Royal Postgraduate Medical School when I was there in 1986-87. Some years later Polak and Yacoub claimed to have performed a life-saving medical miracle on Polak herself and then founded a research institute on the basis of that miracle. My post ‘I Don’t Believe It!’ explains why I suspect that this was the most audacious of all Polak’s alleged research frauds.

In 2003 The Gowrie was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. In Jan 2009, The Gowrie accepted Farad Azima’s invitation to Chair the Advisory Board of the Iran Heritage Foundation.

The Gowrie’s first wife was Alexandra Bingley, daughter of Colonel Robert Bingley. I’ve done a bit of digging to try and find out if Robert Bingley is any relation of the Bingley clan who colluded with Dafydd and the paedophiles for so many years but surprise, surprise, the info doesn’t seem to be available.

 

 

The Arts Council dates back to the 1940s. In 1940, the Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts (CEMA), was appointed to help promote and maintain British culture. The Council was Gov’t funded and after WWII was renamed the Arts Council of Great Britain.

A  Royal Charter was granted on 9 Aug 1946, followed by another in 1967. The latter provided for functions in Scotland and Wales to be conducted by two almost autonomous committees known as the Scottish and Welsh Arts Councils – the basis for today’s Scottish Arts Council and Arts Council of Wales.

The Council’s first Chairman was John Maynard Keynes who used his influence in Gov’t to secure a high level of funding, despite Britain’s severe economic problems following WWII. The majority of this funding was directed to organisations with which Keynes had close ties such as the Royal Opera House and was restricted to Central London. Keynes used his political influence to ensure that the Arts Council reported directly to the Treasury, establishing the principle of an ‘arms length’ relationship between UK Arts policy and the Gov’t of the day.

After Keynes’ death, Gov’t funding was reduced, but the Arts Council received wide recognition for its contribution to the Festival of Britain thanks to the new Chairman Kenneth Clark. Kenneth Clark was the father of the odious sexual predator, the Tory MP Alan Clark. Alan Clark was constantly constructed as a bit of a character – he was actually someone who had sex with anything that moved, including non-consenting people who were below 16 yrs old. Clark regularly exposed himself to school girls and would follow young women around London whom he’d seen on public transport and had taken a shine to. Clark was a junior Minister in Thatcher’s Gov’t in the Depts of Employment, Trade and Defence. He worked at the Dept of Employment with Ken Clarke and Ken Clarke’s autobiography alleges that Alan Clark rarely made it into work and spent most of his time drunk. Alan Clark wrote about the quality of the ‘globes’ of the young women whom he saw on trains and remarked upon Thatch’s ‘very pretty ankles’. Which caused Ian Hislop to remark that Thatcher’s globes obviously weren’t worth a comment.

  • pilot

 

It really is quite unbelievable that someone allowed this lot to run a country.

Art works commissioned by the Council for the Festival of Britain were retained to form the basis of the Arts Council Collection. 

Under Wilson’s Gov’t of 1964-70, it is said that the Arts Council enjoyed a ‘golden age’, thanks to the close relationship between paedophiles’ friends Chairman Arnold Goodman and the Arts Minister Jennie Lee. This period saw the Arts Council establish a network of arts organisations across the country and a programme of touring exhibitions and performances.

During the 1970s and 1980s the Arts Council came under attack for being elitist and politically biased, in particular from Tebbit. It is clear from the Arts Council Chairs appointed by Thatcher that under the Tories it did not become less elitist or less politically biased in any way – instead of being run by paedophiles’ friends of a left wing bent, it was run by very rich paedophiles’ friends who were Tories. The Gov’t grant to the Council was capped, the idea being that the shortfall would be made up by increased sponsorship from the private sector.

The Secretary-General of the Arts Council from 1975–83 was Roy Shaw, the last Secretary-General to be knighted. Presumably after 1983, Lilibet had her hands full dishing the knighthoods out to Peter Morrison, Jimmy Savile and their ilk. Shaw faced the ‘difficult task’ of reconciling ‘the needs’ of arts organisations with the restricted funding. Mystic Mogg proposed slimming down the Council’s responsibilities. This led to a series of clashes with leading luvvies such as Peter Hall, who resigned from the Arts Council in protest. In 1987 the restructure inspired by Mystic Mogg cut by half the number of organisations receiving Arts Council funding. During the same period, the Arts Council began ‘encouraging a greater level of corporate sponsorship for the arts’, which I think means that Charles Saatchi was allowed to call the shots. Hence the elevation of Tracey Emin’s NHS-style disgusting bed and her ‘everyone whom I have ever shagged’ tent to the status of works of art.

Charles Saatchi became famous all over again in 2013, after he was photographed with his hands around the neck of his wife, Nigella Lawson, the daughter of former Chancellor Nigel Lawson. Charles maintained that it was a ‘playful tiff’. An acrimonious divorce followed with allegations and counter-allegations of unpleasant behaviour on the part of Saatchi and coke snorting on the part of Nigella. When Nigella Lawson was at Oxford, she was involved with the Dangerous Sports Club, a bunch of Top Tossers who routinely did some very dangerous and frequently unlawful things but who never faced many consequences.

A leading light in the Dangerous Sports Club was Tommy Leigh-Pemberton, the son of the Robin Leigh-Pemberton, the Governor of the Bank of England, 1983-93 . Tommy Leigh-Pemberton died in what is always described as a ‘tragic accident’, the details of which were not made public. I know the details. Tommy Leigh-Pemberton was shot dead, deliberately, by someone whom he had really pissed off. Leigh-Pemberton was a twat of the highest order and there was nothing that he liked more than driving dangerously, at speed, through built-up areas. He was living in Kenya and it was known that the staff of one of the embassies in Nairobi were trigger happy and that if someone drove past at speed, potshots would be taken at them. So the wanker Tommy and his mates dared each other to drive past and elicit the bullets. Which they did, repeatedly. Until one of the bullets hit Leigh-Pemberton and killed him. The truth behind Leigh-Pemberton’s death did not appear in any media report.

Leigh-Pemberton and his mates revelled in doing anything, anything at all, knowing that their Top Tory parents would get them off the hook, no matter how dangerous or illegal it had been.

The founder of the Dangerous Sports Club was David Kirke – although that was not  his real name – who lied and swindled his way around the world’s best hotels, spinning a yarn about being an Oxford Professor. After many years of fraud and deception, the world finally caught up with David Kirke in the early 1990s and he was imprisoned. His defence team stated that he was a ‘Walter Mitty’ character and was manic to boot. He wasn’t, he was a conman who targeted people whom he knew would be impressed with fuckwittery and a plummy accent. Graham Chapman of Monty Python was associated with the Dangerous Sports Club, as a consequence of Kirke wanting to ingratiate himself to someone affluent and famous to gain, as Kirke himself said, ‘some crumbs from the rich man’s table’.

Nigella’s association with the crook Kirke and his friends was never publicised. But then no-one mentioned that her father’s constituency was in Leicestershire, in the area of the Leicestershire Child Abuse Scandal with the associated serious criminality.

Now Nigella! Who ordered Kirke to contact people who knew me from years previously and pay them all that money to ensure that if – or indeed when – I was found dead, or was imprisoned, that a pack of lies would be told about me, by people ‘who really knew what she was like’? Because someone gave them a great deal of money, whilst I was working at St George’s Hospital Medical School. Thousands and thousands of pounds, two Range Rovers were purchased, a country house, it was incredible. Furthermore Nigella, how did your daddy and his mates ensure that no-one went to prison when the man whom you paid to collaborate with you regarding my allegations re Dafydd and the paedophiles KILLED that young Bulgarian student? The whole of Somerset wanted to know why it was only a manslaughter charge, not murder and why the judge ordered them to be acquitted. Bristol Crown Court, 2004. What was going on exactly?

I think that the Angels of north Wales are going to have to give many more interviews about being attacked by Dangerous Patients to get out of this one. We’ll need a few more cures for cancer as well. And a ‘Save The NHS March’ through central London.

Robin Leigh-Pemberton was given a peerage – in 1992. Once those five other witnesses had been safely killed by that firebomb and once my career had been wrecked and the career of my friend who had been planning to make a documentary about north Wales.

Leigh-Pemberton is dead, as is Thatch who appointed him as Governor of the Bank of England. But the man who gave him a peerage is alive and kicking and has questions to answer.

Sir John Major
Major PM full.jpg

 

Here’s a close pal of some murdering bastards, at a photo shoot at Selfridge’s no less. Probably after a visit to the hairdresser and a quick snort. She needs to look her best! Not that Nigel Lawson would ever have allowed his own kids within a mile of Dafydd – it was other people’s children whom he preyed on. Particularly when there was an election to be won.

 

 

As for all that modern art that Charles Saatchi purchased, I cannot help but wonder if someone was having a laugh at his expense. Perhaps someone who knew that the World of Art was crawling with rich abusive people and fancied making it a laughing stock? Hence Viz magazine’s awards for the best modern art spotted on Newcastle-Upon-Tyne bus shelters – the prize winner was 14 yr old Jason with his piece of graffiti ‘My Penis Smells of Apples’. Had Jason been blonde and pretty, no doubt ‘My Penis Smells Of Apples’ would have found its way into Saatchi’s Chelsea gallery.

 

My post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’ mentioned the art student turned Hergest Unit patient who told me that if he wanted, he could take the art world by storm with his construction ‘Turd Eclipsing The Sun’ in return for selling his bottom to the Big Beasts. I doubt that he could have at that point because he was in his 40s and had suffered from the ravages of Dafydd’s ‘help’, but when he was young I think it highly likely that his plan would have worked. This man supplied me with the names of many of the Great n Good, whom he assured me survived on a diet of cocaine, champagne and underaged kids. The names that I was given included Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud and David Hockney. The Hergest staff were far too bigoted to listen to a word that this man said, but I did and the reason why he was illegally imprisoned by Dafydd many years previously was that he objected to a North Wales Police Sergeant appearing at his side when he was in the loo and naked, after he had been fitted up for drugs offences. His objection to the police officer was met with a punch in the face, imprisonment in Risley Remand Centre and a lifetime in the ‘care’ of the paedophiles’ friends.

Ella Fisk, an Angel who worked at the Hergest Unit, once told me that I was ‘so much more intelligent’ than this man. No I was not, he did have a brain but it had been completely scrambled, initially by psychedelic drugs, but then it had then been finished off by the ‘medication’ that he was assured was absolutely necessary. I knew what he was being given – he didn’t because he knew bugger all about pharmacology – and I knew exactly what it was doing to him…Despite the best efforts of the paedophiles’ friends, some of his memories were crystal clear – of Denbigh, of Risley Remand Centre, of the rock scene in the 60s and 70s and of the art world. Dafydd knew what that man had witnessed and a decision was taken to ensure that – like everyone else who could name people in High Society who had done things that they shouldn’t have – this man disappeared in the criminal justice and mental health system of north Wales.

 

Mr Murdoch – there is more than one ageing Empowered Service User in north Wales who has named your wife’s ex as being part of a very sordid scene when he was younger. Before he was Sirred and sent his kids to Eton.

 

The Arts Council England’s website tells us that ‘We invest public money to make great art that has an impact on everyone’s lives’. It’s certainly had an impact on mine, they bankrolled the friends of a gang of sex traffickers who tried to kill me.

One of the websites ‘telling the story’ of the Arts Council features a splendid picture of Judi Dench and Ian McKellen doing their Shakespearean bit. Dame Judi is of course Robert Bluglass’s old mucker and Sir Ian is the man who campaigned long and hard to have gay people accepted into public life and polite society. I don’t have a problem with that, but an archive clip of an interview with Sir Ian on this subject shows him naming Michael Barrymore as a high profile Funnyman who to Sir Ian’s delighht had by then been taken into the nation’s hearts. Sir Ian gave that interview before a sexually injured corpse was found in Barrymore’s swimming pool, a sexually injured corpse who’s presence in that pool has never been explained.

Awight!

I know nuzzing…

Sir Ian only came out as gay in 1988, but his orientation was well-known in the acting world long before then. Sir Ian Bravely Spoke Out against Section 28, the insanity dreamt up by Thatcher’s Gov’t to prevent local authorities from ‘promoting homosexuality’ whilst kids in care in north Wales were imprisoned or killed lest anyone be in a position to testify that her mate Peter Morrison was abusing them. Section 28 was enacted in May 1988, which was after Alison Taylor and I had refused to keep quiet about Dafydd and the paedophiles and after Mary Wynch had done battle in court with them. So how about a grand gesture from a Gov’t of hypocrites who were knowingly colluding with the trafficking of kids in care for both heterosexual and homosexual tastes?

It was Jill Knight – now Baroness Knight – who introduced Section 28. Knight had some quaint ideas about gays – she was on record as stating that they were good with antiques – but she didn’t think that they should be promoted or indeed allowed to be parents. More importantly, Jill Knight was for years a member of the Monday Club, which was heaving with Tories who were concealing the abuse of children and contained a number who were actually abusing kids themselves. Jill was MP for Birmingham Edgbaston, 1966-97. Jill, having spent more than 30 years living cheek by jowl with the corrupt professionals who oiled the wheels of Dafydd’s trafficking gang and sent kids in care into his arms, I presume that you are well-acquainted with a man called Robert Bluglass, who virtually ran the NHS in Birmingham.

 

Sir Ian stated that he had to Do Something About Section 28, even if it ruined his career. Of course it did not ruin his career – everyone already knew that he was gay – in fact it did his career a great deal of good, he was hailed a Champ of the Oppressed. Which could have been very useful if there had been any service users knocking around who might have remembered Sir Ian or his mates utilising the services provided by Dafydd and Lucille.

In 2010 Sir Ian featured in TV adverts to support Age UK, which was formed from the merger of Age Concern and Help the Aged – Sir Ian gave his time free of charge. Paedophiles’ friend Margaret Hanson, the Vice-Chair of the Betsi Cadwaladr University Health Board, was formerly the Chief Exec of Age Concern in North East Wales. Before that, Margaret was a children’s and family social worker and a Councillor in Cheshire. Whilst Dafydd’s paedophile gang operated in that county. Margaret’s husband David Hanson is the Labour MP for Delyn and the former PPS To Tony Blair.

Sir Ian’s former partner is Sean Mathias, a theatre and film director. Sean Mathias is described as being ‘Welsh-born’ – whether he is any relation of William Mathias, the esteemed late Welsh composer who was Prof of Music at UCNW for many years as well as a paid-up paedophiles’ friend (see post ‘Just A Language Divide?’), I don’t know.

Sir Ian was knighted in the New Years Honours 1991 – just like Sir Peter Morrison!

 

  • Benny Hill - Wikiwand

 

Sir Ian at Manchester Pride 2010:

 

The Ass-headed Bottom:

 

Sir Roy Shaw – the Secretary General of the Arts Council, 1975-83 – also sat on Harold Wilson’s OU planning committee, along with a number of paedophiles’ friends (see post ‘Anthem For Doomed Youth’).

Shaw grew up in considerable hardship in Sheffield, but his schooling was terminated early as a result of Crohn’s disease. He left school young, worked first in a butcher’s shop and then at the ‘Sheffield Telegraph’ and for Sheffield Library. Shaw gained a place at the Quaker college at Woodbrooke, Birmingham, for a pre-university course in 1941. Previous posts have mentioned the involvement of a number of Quakers in the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal. Shaw later went to Manchester University, graduating in 1946.

While at Manchester University Sir Roy was an editor of the journal, ‘Humanitas’, along with Herbert McCabe, who later became a Dominican priest. In 1946, Shaw married Gwenyth Baron. They had seven children, including the Sussex University sociologist Professor Martin Shaw and the journalist Phil Shaw. Martin Shaw is a member of the Labour Party, a former International Socialist and was active in E.N.D. and other leftist groups.

 

In 1946, Sir Roy Shaw was appointed a tutor for the WEA in the East Riding of Yorkshire. In 1947, Shaw became a Lecturer in the Department of Extra-Mural Studies at the University of Leeds and in 1958 he was appointed Director of the Leeds University Adult Education Centre in Bradford. Shaw organised art exhibitions, concerts, and visits by theatre and opera groups.

There was organised sex offending in the Leeds and Bradford areas as well as in the wider Yorkshire region as long  the late 1940s – the situation was considerably inflamed by Jimmy Savile just a few years later. People involved in adult education/sociology/community studies will have known about it.

In 1962 Shaw was appointed Head of Adult Education at the University of Keele, which had a long running problem with paedophiles and those who protected them working there. Keele gave Shaw a Chair in 1967. While at Keele Shaw became a BBC Governor and a Governor of the  British Film Institute and it was at that time that he became involved in the foundation of the OU.

Shaw was the theatre critic of ‘The Tablet’, 1990-2000. He remained concerned with political issues, for example visiting Israel in 1994 to press for the release of the nuclear whistle-blower Mordechai Vanunu. In 2006, at the age of 88, Shaw Chaired the Celebrating Age festival in Brighton and Hove.

Shaw converted to Catholicism in 1955, but left the RC Church in the late 1960s and returned in the 1970s.

Shaw’s Indie obituary states that ‘he built Keele University’s outreach work in the Potteries and the surrounding villages’, that ‘he also became a national figure in the movement for second-chance education’ and that ‘he championed theatre in the round at the Victoria Theatre in Stoke-on-Trent, and loved music hall and comedians (especially Ken Dodd) as much as the classics’.

A long standing network of abusers targeting children in care with the usual knock-on effect on the mental health services/NHS existed in the Staffordshire area and my post ‘My Arse – It’s Tatifilarious’ details Ken Dodd’s links with those involved in the abuse of vulnerable people, including in north Wales.

Shaw also had dealings with Ruskin College, which educated many future Labour MPs (see post ‘A Study In Tyranny’). In the mid-1960s, Matt Arnold taught at Ruskin and Peter Howarth was a student of his. Arnold later became the Headmaster of Bryn Estyn when it bloomed into a major centre of paedophile activity and Howarth was one of the few who did actually end up going to prison for abusing boys there. Arnold and Howarth had previously worked together at Axwell Park Approved School in Gateshead, where the boys had been abused…

 

Shaw had a ‘passionate conviction’ that funding the arts was the state’s job – not that of private benefactors or commercial sponsors. At Shaw’s retirement party in 1983 he asked the then Arts Minister The Gowrie whether he had read the paper Shaw prepared on developing wider access to the arts, which The Gowrie had not even acknowledged. The Gowrie replied ‘Oh, yes, but my main concern is to foster the growth of business sponsorship.’

So it was either state-funded sexual exploitation or sexual exploitation funded by corporate sponsorship. It was a win-win situation for Dafydd et al. What nobody would do was expose what was going on. Shaw’s obituary in the Torygraph illustrates the difficulties that anyone alleging the existence of organised Naughtiness In High Places will face:

 ‘[Shaw’s] showed his wide browsing on the matter — he was able to pose such questions as “Did Orson Welles read Bertrand Russell?” — and it also contained attacks on such Conservative enemies as Kingsley Amis, Alistair McAlpine and Norman St John-Stevas. Shaw had once been on first-name terms with St John-Stevas but, following the latter’s appointment as Arts Minister, was riled when he found himself required to address him as “Minister” and gratefully wait for meetings “like a papal audience”….Margaret Thatcher was keen that sponsorship should play as great a role as subsidy, and the Arts Council often struggled to justify its own existence. Yet the forces within it were frequently so politically opposed that there was little coherence in policy, and attempts to compensate for Conservative policies resulted sometimes in support for wildly self-indulgent work.

Shaw was sentimental about the arts and the status the Arts Council gave him. “Who can deny,” he wrote, “that to sit in a box at the Royal Opera is a delightful experience — diminished only by twinges of regret that so many of the people one had lived with in the North or the Midlands could not share the delight? Who could fail to be excited by those glamorous annual theatrical dinners and lunches where you saw most of the famous actors you could think of — and talked to several you knew personally?”

Literature, Shaw conceded, was “a problem area”. More specifically, he disliked the Director of Literature, Charles Osborne. “I felt it my duty to try and persuade him to resign and devote himself more fully to the writing and broadcasting from which I had the impression he earned almost as much as his Council salary.”

Reviewing ‘The Arts and the People’, Osborne hit back: “Of the four Secretaries General with whom I worked, he was the only one who tended to wave his politics about like an offensive weapon. If one stood up to his hectoring manner, he could be quite genial. If one did not have the temperament to defend oneself, he could behave like the worst kind of bully.”

Shaw angrily denied that he was Left-wing and obsessed with adult education. He pointed to the occasions when he had advocated the withdrawal of grants to various Left-wing theatre groups. None the less, as Secretary General, he gave his support to the cause of North-West Spanner, a Left-wing alternative theatre company that had its grant removed at the behest of a Right-wing local councillor in 1977.

The resulting furore brought together a coalition of actors, theatre groups and leading intellectuals, who complained of political censorship and succeeded in having the money restored. In a way, it was the political theatre’s only tangible victory of the decade; but it was also a caricature of militant aims.

They had won the right to be employed by their avowed enemies, thus arguing the case for a system they were wholly opposed to. Subsequently, some of Spanner’s actors researched a play set in a hospital and so enjoyed the experience of real work that they became hospital porters…

He also turned his mind to policies for the arts and became an unpaid adviser to Jenny Lee, who, under Wilson, was Britain’s first Arts Minister. When the Conservatives were returned to power, Jenny Lee was replaced by Lord Eccles, who retained Shaw and appointed him an unpaid member of the Arts Council in 1972. Three years later Shaw was appointed Secretary General. ‘Private Eye’ noted the appointment of a “provincial academic” to an “Establishment” position.’

It will not have been a coincidence that Shaw, the ‘provincial academic’ was appointed to an ‘establishment’ position. He was a provincial academic who had spent years working in a region that was the hub of organised sex abuse and had worked in the institutions and settings in which that abuse was a substantial problem. Every Gov’t was concealing the same criminality as it snowballed – Shaw will have proved useful to all of them.

Lord Eccles was the Arts Minister, 1970-73, under Ted Heath. Lord Jack Donaldson succeeded Eccles as Arts Minister and remained there throughout Wilson’s and then Callaghan’s administrations. Jack Donaldson is described as, among other things, a ‘prison reformer’ and an ‘Approved School manager’. Abuse of children in Approved Schools was endemic and I don’t think that Jack was very effective where reforming prisons was concerned. Donaldson was a junior Minister at the N Ireland Office, 1974-76, so he’ll also have been in on the shagfest that was the Kincora Boys’ Home and the lengths that everyone went to in order to conceal that. Donaldson was Chairman of the National Consumer Council, 1968-71. He left the Labour Party to join Dr Death and the gang in 1981.

Donaldson was succeeded as Arts Minister by Norman St John Stevas, (1979-81), who was indulging in the very same activities with under-aged boys as Sir Peter Morrison. St John Stevas was succeeded by Paul Channon, 1981-83, (see post ‘Is The Party Over Yet?’), who was succeeded by Earl Gowrie, 1983-85, who was succeeded by Richard Luce, 1985-90, (see post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’), who was succeeded by David Mellor, 1989-90 – who had previously worked in the Home Office and the Dept of Health – and so it continued.

Every one of these Arts Ministers had previously held responsibilities in which they had concealed serious organised sexual abuse. Which set them up very nicely for presiding over a Ministerial Dept responsible for theatre, arts and music, areas in which the sexual exploitation of young people was rife.

 

So organised sexual exploitation was being concealed across the political spectrum, by people involved in the Arts from a range of backgrounds with different notions of what the Arts should be, who they should serve and who should fund them. Most ludicrously, on a broader societal scale, sex offending was being concealed by the nations’s moralists as well as by the sexual liberators. Mary Whitehouse or Sir Ian McKellen? Neither was going to help the victims of Dafydd et al.

 

I enjoy using the phrase ‘Naughtiness In High Places’ because when Thatcher was in Gov’t, Brown’s brother and I read an old Monty Python book which detailed their spoof general election campaign involving the Silly Party, who’s manifesto was ‘destroying industry, raising unemployment and encouraging naughtiness in high places’. We were reading it just after the Cecil Parkinson scandal broke and Brown’s brother observed that the Tories had managed to implement the Silly Party’s manifesto, which left us rolling around laughing for a very long time. ‘Vote Wisely – Vote Silly. You Know It Makes Nonsense’. At that time, Graham Chapman’s penchant for having sex with under-aged boys was known, but no-one in showbiz mentioned a word… Graham was just gay and a zany Python. It might have helped that John Cleese was very friendly with a number of analysts and Top Docs who were concealing child abuse, some of whom were personally known to Dafydd. The John Cleese who featured in a 1987 party political broadcast for the SDP-Liberal Alliance.

This man was mates with some of those who’s signatures are on documents in my possession, detailing serious criminal activity on their own part:

The Lord Owen
Official portrait of Lord Owen crop 2.jpg

 

Dr Death knew exactly what was happening and he knew that witnesses were locked up in Risley Remand Centre, the North Wales Hospital Denbigh and high security hospitals. You, Dr Death, need to cough and now. Dr Death’s former place of employment, St Thomas’s Hospital, served as the home of choice for those at the top of the pyramid of people who were ensuring that Dafydd et al never ever were held to account. Why Peter Hennessey gives Dr Death the time of day even when Hennessey trots around the Lords interviewing clapped out old farts who have caused so much damage I cannot imagine.

 

From 1977-83 Sir Roy Shaw was Visiting Professor at the Centre for Arts, City University London. Shaw died in Brighton, the location of John Allen’s brothels to which he trafficked kids in care from north Wales and the site of the firebombing which killed the five witnesses in April 1992.

The Guardian’s obituary of Shaw provides us with a bit more information regarding the reach of his tentacles and his self-interest:
As a member of the British delegation to the first world conference of culture ministers, in Venice in 1970, he greatly impressed Lord (David) Eccles… Preserving the integrity of bodies such as the Royal Shakespeare Company, capable of box-office successes but needing public support for their core work, was a continual concern. Opera brought out even more vividly what was important to Shaw. After he persuaded local government to match Arts Council funding, English National Opera North opened in Leeds with Saint-Saëns’s Samson et Dalila in 1978; since 1981 it has continued as Opera North. On the other hand, in 1990, after he had left the council, he criticised the Royal Opera House in London as “the least accessible arts institution in Britain”…

Again, he met opposition from the more artistically haughty among the staff and council members, and had at first to turn to the Gulbenkian Foundation for funding. However, the highly successful initiative was soon imitated by other arts organisations and the education department became a valued part of the council’s activities.

Shaw became an organising tutor for the North Yorkshire district of the Workers’ Educational Association. Within a year, Sidney Raybould, who was building a formidably committed extra-mural department at Leeds University, offered him a staff tutorship; he stayed for 13 years. The WEA district secretary, Fred Sedgwick, thought Shaw the best tutor in Yorkshire….[Whilst at Keele University] Shaw set up a fine, wide system, made some notable experiments in workers’ education, as with miners’ families in the village of Silverdale, and vigorously encouraged film and related studies.

‘The Guardian’ mentioned that Sir Roy, despite his Catholicism and his long service on ‘The Tablet’, ‘in the new century’, had ‘his faith’ was ‘shaken by events within the Catholic Church and after a brief period of attending Anglican services he finally ceased his lifelong quest and declared himself agnostic.’

I’m wondering if it might have been the tidal wave of allegations of child abuse that emerged from the Catholic Church ‘in the new century’ that shook Shaw’s faith so much, so he got the hell out of there before investigations began, nipped over to join the Anglicans, who then found themselves under fire in exactly the same way. At which point Sir Roy became an agnostic. I’m sure that there’ll be a group of agnostics somewhere abusing kids, Dafydd caters for a great many people, he’s all things to all men, no-one’s left out.

‘The Times’ also paid tribute to Sir Roy when he died: He arrived with a mission to open up the arts to working-class people, one that almost caused a deputation from the art form directors to the then chairman, Lord Gibson, though not for its socialist principles. Shaw had told them that they were too close to their clients, that they operated too much of an old boys’ network and that they needed to be more “clinically detached”. He avoided the threatened confrontation by talking his new colleagues through his intentions, but for some weeks they sported lapel badges reading, “I am clinically detached”.

I notice that Sir Roy borrowed a Top Docs notion. Top Docs are of course supposed to be ‘clinically detached’, it is supposed to protect them from becoming traumatised in the face of their patients’ suffering and it is also supposed to protect patients from things like sexual exploitation. Dafydd and his mates used the concept to dump patients after they had shagged them and then used it as an umbrella for ever after to refuse to answer questions or complaints etc.

Graham Ovenden was born in Hampshire, into a Fabian household and was taught music privately by Albert Ketelbey. He was a student at the Royal College of Music, before taking up painting around 1962. Ovenden was tutored by Lord David Cecil and John Betjeman. He attended the Southampton School of Art and graduated from the Royal College of Art in 1968.

Ovenden moved to Cornwall from Richmond-Upon-Thames in 1973 with painter Annie Ovenden and their family. He bought a cottage on Bodmin Moor with 22 acres of land and began constructing ‘Barley Splatt’, a neo-Gothic building.  

Ovenden was a founder of the Brotherhood of Ruralists in 1975, along with Graham Arnold, Ann Arnold, Sir Peter Blake, David Inshaw, Annie Ovenden and Jann Haworth. The Brotherhood is no longer extant, although in 2005 it had a major London exhibition at the Leicester Galleries. Ovenden’s daughter, Emily, is a writer and singer with the Mediaeval Baebes and Pythia.

Ovenden’s nude and semi-nude photographic portraits of young girls were published, as were his photographs of the children’s street culture in London taken in the late 1950s and early 1960s when Ovenden was a teenager. His book ‘Aspects of Lolita contains prints inspired by Vladimir Nabokov’s novel ‘Lolita’. A general monograph of his paintings, drawings, prints and photographs was published. Many other publications also contain his work . Ovenden’s work has also graced the covers of record albums and books. His work is in numerous collections, including the Victoria and Albert Museum, The Tate and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

In addition, Ovenden has curated numerous exhibitions, many featuring his extensive collection of antiquarian photographs. Ovenden and his work have been the subject of broadcasts and films, including ‘Lolita Unclothed’ for the series ‘World without Walls’ (ITV, Channel 4, 1993), ‘Stop The Week’ (BBC Radio 4, 1989), ‘Curious Houses with Lucinda Lambton’ (BBC-TV, 1987), ‘Bats in the Belfy – Home Sweet Home’ (ITV, 1987), ‘Robinson Country: The Painter’ (ITV, 1987), ‘Figures in a Landscape: The Brotherhood of Ruralists (BBC Radio 3, 1983) and ‘Summer With the Ruralists, a film produced and directed by John Read for the BBC (1978–79). In 2000, the British Library funded a formal interview with Ovenden as part of its ‘Oral History of British Photography’ series.

In 1980 Ovenden was prosecuted but found not guilty of fraud pertaining to his involvement in the production of hoax calotypes, purportedly images of Victorian street children by a photographer ‘Francis Hetling’. The images were actually taken by Ovenden’s friend, Howard Grey, and re-photographed and printed by Ovenden. Some of the images had been shown at the National Portrait Gallery.

Ovenden’s work has long been been controversial for its depiction of prepubescent girls. In 1991, as ‘States of Grace’ was being published, a set of proofs and a photograph for the book were seized by U.S. Customs and held for over seven months. In Feb 1992, the U.S. Department of Justice claimed that the work depicted ‘sexually explicit conduct’ and therefore was illegal to import, sell or own. During a court hearing one month later in the United States District Court, Eastern District of New York, a federal prosecutor identified page 54 as containing the sole offending image in the book, a substantial retreat from the initial position.

A hearing before Magistrate Zachary Carter was held on 28 May 1992. The hearing was attended by the subject depicted in the allegedly offending image, who was then 18 years of age, as well as the eminent photo-historian and critic, A.D. Coleman. Both witnesses were prepared to testify and gave written statements. The subject of the image on page 54 said:

I have known Graham Ovenden as a family friend for fourteen years – since I was four years old. I have modelled for Graham on numerous occasions – in fact, too numerous to count – for both his photographs and paintings. I have modeled for him both clothed and fully nude, both alone and with other children…. The portrait which the United States has charged as indecent is a portrait of me as I was eight years ago. I am not acting in a sexual way in the picture and Graham never asked me to sexual or treated me as a sexual object. The accusation that the image is ‘obscene’ is, to me, an accusation that I am ‘obscene,’ something to which I take offence.

A.D. Coleman’s prepared statement noted the many artistic qualities of the image which were inconsistent with their being labelled ‘lascivious’. Representatives of the American Civil Liberties Union were also in court to offer their brief and were joined by artists, art critics, administrators and various organizations, in opposition to the Gov’ts attempt to censor ‘States of Grace’.

Ovenden himself attested in writing as follows: ‘Symbolically speaking, we are dealing with feelings of the heart and the human yearning for Edenic simplicity – a state of grace, as it were, where there is neither sin nor corruption. The apple has yet to be eaten. The subject, of course, symbolizes this state in the photograph. At the same time, we see that the attainment of Eden is no easy task: the vulnerability of the child suggests, or rather confirms, the fragility of Eden, as well as its fleeting nature in the face of the concerns of the adult world and the demands of modernity’.

Ovenden may well have believed all this, but it reads curiously like Viz magazine’s art critic’s judgement when 14 yr old Jason hit the big time with ‘My Penis Smells Of Apples’.

 

In the face of the subject’s account of her experience of being photographed by Ovenden, the statements proffered by Ovenden and Coleman and the support of the ACLU and others, the government acknowledged defeat and returned the photograph and the proofs. Two months later the book was imported into the US.

On 21 May 1998, censors in New Zealand classified ‘States of Grace’ as UNRESTRICTED, ie. deemed suitable for all audiences. 

On 5 May 2000, the San Diego Public Library announced that it did not consider ‘States of Grace’ (as well as David Hamilton’s ‘Twenty Five Years of an Artist’) to contain child pornography and stated that both Ovenden and Hamilton are ‘contemporary and historically important photographers’ whose work is ‘culturally and artistically significant’. The determination was made in response to a ruling by a San Diego Superior Court judge that a man had photocopied images from those books ‘not for art’s sake but for sexual purposes’. In late Oct 2009, British customs permitted entry of Ovenden’s book, ‘States of Grace’, sent to a customer who purchased it at auction in the US on eBay. The auction price was $350.00.

A year later, in England, some of Ovenden’s photographs were confiscated by the Obscene Publications Squad from Scotland Yard but were returned after a campaign by Lord Jeremy Hutchison, Sir Hugh Casson and David Hockney.

Ovenden’s work ‘Five Girls’ and 29 other images in the permanent collection of the Tate were accessible online until Oct 2009, following the scandal that erupted over a photograph of Brooke Shields as part of the Tate Modern’s 2009 ‘Pop Life’ exhibit.

In 2009 Ovenden was charged with 16 counts of creating ‘indecent’ photographs or pseudo-photographs of children and two counts of possessing 121 ‘indecent’ photographs or pseudo-photographs of children. The 121 images are all versions or stages of the 16 works and had been deleted from Ovenden’s computer at the time his home was raided in 2006. The images were subsequently undeleted by police. The prosecution argued that these images were ‘indecent’. The defence argued that the works 121 images were temporary stages toward the creation of the 16 works, that those works constitute art and in no event were any of the works created with criminal intent. The Crown did not alleged that the images at issue depict any actual children.

On 22 Oct 2009, after less than two days of trial, the jury was discharged and a new trial date set. On 9 April 2010, after a five-minute hearing, the case was thrown out by the judge as two key prosecution witnesses – police officers who had searched his home three and a half years earlier – failed to appear in court. The police declined to comment and the CPS refused to disclose how much the investigation had cost the taxpayer. Graham Ovenden described the police as ‘totally and utterly transfixed by childhood sexuality’ and himself as ‘a controversial figure and, at the moment, a very angry old man’. The prosecution declined to launch an appeal.

On 19 April 2010, it was reported that the Child Abuse Investigation Team of the Metropolitan Police, the force which had carried out the three and a half-year investigation for the trial, was investigating Ovenden over allegations of child sex abuse. Ovenden said such allegations had been made at the start of the previous investigation and dropped, and that ‘the Metropolitan Police are being very vindictive about this’.

In March 2013, Ovenden went on trial at Truro Crown Court, accused with nine charges of indecency with a child and indecent assault on victims aged between six and 14. He denied the claims. On 2 April, Ovenden was found guilty of six charges of indecency with a child and one charge of indecent assault against a child. The charges came from adults who claimed they had been abused by Ovenden as children. Some of them involved claims that he abused children while they were posing for his pictures. The abuse charges related to incidents between 1972 and 1985. Ovenden was sentenced to 12 months imprisonment, suspended for two years. On 9 Oct 2013 the Appeal Court increased his sentence to an immediate prison term of 27 months.

Following Ovenden’s conviction, the Victoria and Albert Museum removed half of their 14 Ovenden images from its website and the Tate removed 34 of his images from its online collection. In 2015, District Judge Elizabeth Roscoe ordered that Ovenden’s personal collection of paintings and photographs, created by him and others, be destroyed, stating: ‘I have very little doubt that sexual gratification is, at the very least, part of Mr Ovenden’s reasons for making these images’. Ovenden responded to the press, saying: ‘I am a famous artist. I am an equally famous photographer and they are destroying material which has been in the public domain for over 40 years.’

 

The arguments over whether Ovenden’s images were obscene or not are fascinating, although no-one actually grappled with the fact that one cannot control the imaginations and fantasies of other people and that some people might actually have gained ‘sexual gratification’ from Ovenden’s work – as well as other people’s work – that definitely did not fall within any definition of ‘obscenity’. As a quip in Viz magazine said ‘If I sold nude photos of myself as a baby to paedophiles, would I be prosecuted?’ It is widely believed that Lewis Carroll had quite a thing about pre-pubescent girls, although his illustrations and photos were of children fully clothed. No-one has subjected his work to the purifying flames and I don’t think that they should. The real issue is that Graham Ovenden did abuse at least some children. He might not have abused all the kids who modelled for him and the former child model who gave evidence on his behalf may well have been quite correct that he never abused her and that she never felt abused. But he did abuse some children and there will have been people close to him who knew that his conduct was worrying. None of them spoke up and a lot of very big guns were prepared to do everything possible to ensure that Ovenden’s reputation remained unsullied.

Ovenden lived in Richmond-Upon-Thames until 1973. So he was there whilst the paedophile gang based in Richmond-Upon-Thames with links to Westminster and Whitehall which stretched right across London, to north Wales and to Europe was in operation, a paedophile ring which it is now admitted was protected by the very highest authorities (see post ‘Always On The Side Of The Children’). It is believed that some victims and witnesses were killed by that gang.

Graham Ovenden was almost certainly acting in the context of a wider group of child abusers.

Every time that a concern was raised about Ovenden, people’s defence of him was predicated entirely on stressing that he was a Very Important Person and Famous with it. He even said that himself. Then lots of other VIPs and Famous People would be wheeled out to testify to the quality of Ovenden’s work. What no-one did was to concern themselves with whether he was actually abusing children. He was.

Very Important People with Famous Friends seem to be very good at ensuring that the obvious is not asked about their conduct. Should those people be Top Doctors, the sound of other Top Docs screaming ‘but he is a very eminent man’ will drown out all other noise for the next few months. Won’t it Bluglass?

Cilla Black was a ‘star’. She was also a personal friend of a man who, along with his Top Doctor colleagues, was without doubt concealing a pan-European trafficking ring which killed some of the witnesses, the ring which included the Richmond-Upon-Thames contingent. Cilla Black may well not have known that, but we really should never be so naive as to believe that someone with famous friends or in possession of a medical degree cannot be a sex offender, because they can and I can name a few who are.

The state has now entrusted the IICSA – which is supposedly going to uncover the truth about organised child abuse – to the very people who caused the problem: social workers, Top Docs and lawyers. Of course not every member of these professions was actively abusing young people, but those professions have become institutionally corrupt and as a whole they concealed serious organised crime involving the mass sexploitation of vulnerable young people. The extent of the abuse that has been inflicted on people in the care of the state could never have happened if the state had not actively helped the abusers.

There is no point in the IICSA and there is no point in all the Me Tooing and the reassurances of the police that the paedos will be caught and ooh we’re building prisons for elderly sex offenders. You’re all bloody guilty, you knew what Dafydd and co were doing and you let them do it. You haven’t got the answers and all that you are doing is adding insult to injury. Excavate those bodies from the grounds of Denbigh, admit what went on so that people like me and Brown no longer have to be smeared and insulted by a gang of paedophiles and their friends and then bugger off and take Buck House and the House of Lords with you. Particularly Dr Death, the world has had quite enough of him.

 

Let us take a look at those who so robustly defended Graham Ovenden in 2001.

Jeremy Hutchinson QC was a barrister who stood as the unsuccessful Labour candidate in the 1945 General Election, when he received assistance in his campaign from Tony Benn.  Hutchison finally entered Parliament as a life peer in 1978 and eventually voted with the Lib Dems in the years after the SDP broke away from the Labour Party. Hutchison went to Stowe School and then Magdalen College Oxford. He was called to the bar at Middle Temple. So he will have known Sir Ronnie Waterhouse. Hutchison was in the Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve during WWII and served on the destroyer commanded by Lord Mountbatten (see post ‘The Defence Of The Realm’). Hutchison became a recorder of Bath and then a Crown Court judge, 1963-88. Jeremy Hutchison was Vice-Chair of the Arts Council of Great Britain; Trustee and then Chairman of the Tate; Chairman of the London Historic Museum Trust; and Professor of Law at the Royal Academy of Arts.

Hutchison was born into the heart of the Bloomsbury set, his parents were friends of Virginia Woolf et al. He was involved in some of the most memorable trials of the 20th century. He was a member of the defence team in the 1950 Lady Chatterley trial and he defended ‘Fanny Hill’. He led the defence at the 1965 trial of the art thief Kempton Bunton. Hutchison defended Christine Keeler and the spies George Blake and John Vassall; he defended Brian Roberts, the then Editor of the Torygraph and he defended Duncan Cambell in the ABC trial which was presented as a triumph over the vetting of juries by the security services. Hutchison also succeeded in getting Howard Marks acquitted after he was charged with drug trafficking and successfully led the defence for Michael Bogdanov in the 1982 ‘Romans In Britain’ trial.

The Guardian’s review of Thomas Grant’s 2015 book ‘Jeremy Hutchison’s Case Histories’ commented that Hutchison ‘cherished clients’ who were ‘amiable rogues’. Jeremy Hutchison was a highly entertaining performer in court and he had a following because of his challenges to what was perceived as establishment hypocrisy. However there was a high price paid by some for Jeremy having a laugh in court and some of his rogues were not that amiable. He succeeded in having Christine Keeler cleared on some charges – which in itself sounds great, Christine was a teenaged girl who was being eaten alive by friends of the Royal Family and those in Gov’t – but Hutchison did it by defaming Stephen Ward, who was the ultimate scapegoat in the Profumo Affair (see post ‘In Memoriam – Bronwen, Lady Astor’). Hutchison described Ward as ‘a perverted Professor Higgins’ and demolished his character in court. Yet privately Hutchison admitted that he knew that Ward was not what Hutchison portrayed him to be. Ward died as a result of the fall-out from that court case, allegedly by suicide – there are indications that if Ward did kill himself, he was he was given a good push by someone. ‘The Guardian’ review observed that Hutchison ‘had a job to do and he was very well paid’.

In the early 1990s I remember challenging a CPS prosecutor in Bangor Magistrates Court who knew that she was prosecuting me on the basis of the lies of the Top Doctors. She became very angry and told me not to ‘start on’ her, that ‘she was just doing her job’. Had her job been making cakes and I didn’t like the flavour of her cakes, she’d have had good grounds to tell me where to get off. But she wasn’t – she knew that she was smearing someone who was at the centre of a fit-up attempt by some very serious criminals. There must be SOMETHING in a lawyers code of conduct that allows them in such circumstances to refuse to act, even if they are a jobbing solicitor for the CPS. That was the CPS who did not mount one prosecution even when, after the 1991-93 police investigation into the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal, a file of hundreds of complaints was sent to the CPS.

I don’t know what the name of that lawyer was, but she was first language Welsh, had brownish hair and was pregnant at the time of the case. She sat in Bangor Magistrates Court, along with all the other lawyers in Gwynedd, as a gang of paedophiles fitted up witnesses. They all need to be asked to explain themselves.

As for ‘amiable rogues’ – Dafydd used to joke about being one. This led to Hergest patients taking the piss and making comments such as ‘of course Dr Dafydd Alun Jones didn’t murder Mary Wynch’s mother, he was just scrumping apples’. Dafydd could have been scrumping apples as well, but he was running a trafficking gang who were murdering victims. He wasn’t an amiable rogue, he was a dangerous offender.

Howard Marks, that other well-known scrumper whom Hutchison successfully defended, later admitted that he had been guilty of drug trafficking. George Blake admitted to being a spy, so Hutchison had to just go for mitigating circumstances, as he did in the case of John Vassall. Yet John Vassall undoubtedly had information about people in the Admiralty rather grander and more senior than himself who were doing things that they shouldn’t. Vassall was the fall-guy and Hutchison would have known that.

With regard to the ABC trial, that did go down in history as a triumph over the security services and state oppression and it sealed the reputation of the judge involved as being the voice of the common man against state corruption. Which was ludicrous, because the presiding judge was none other than Sir William Mars-Jones, a friend of Dafydd (and Ronnie Waterhouse) and someone who provided a very big umbrella for Dafydd and the paedophiles for decades.

Jeremy Hutchison’s obituary in ‘The Guardian’ was written by Geoffrey Robertson QC, the human rights lawyer who was Hutchison’s junior in the 1982 ‘Romans in Britain’ trial, which was brought by Mary Whitehouse. The trial famously collapsed amidst hilarity after Jeremy Hutchison ridiculed the claim of a witness to have seen a penis on stage during the play. The defence stated that it was an actor’s thumb that had been mistaken for a penis and in court Hutchison positioned his fingers around his groin such that his thumb was in an allegedly penis-like position. The court was entertained, Hutchison won the case and the witness became a national joke. Yet with regard to ‘Romans in Britain’, Robertson mentions that Hutchison disparaged an obviously ‘honest’ witness. It rather seems as though Robertson knew that the witness HAD seen a penis rather than, as Hutchison maintained, a thumb pretending to be a penis.

I was glad when Mary Whitehouse lost the ‘Romans in Britain’ trial because she was the most appalling old hypocrite. Neither would I be bothered if an actor did have his penis out on stage as alleged – it was during a scene in which a rape was being played. But I don’t think that Jeremy Hutchison should have undertaken a massive performance for the court, lied through his teeth and ridiculed a witness if Hutchison knew that the witness was telling the truth.

Geoffrey Robertson QC is the barrister who founded Doughty Street Chambers, which houses Theo Huckle QC, who, when he was Counsel General for Wales, maintained that there was no evidence of negligence in the way in which I had been treated by Dafydd and the paedophiles (see post ‘Theo Huckle QC’). Theo had copies of the 10,000 documents that I now have. There is documentary evidence of the most serious wrongdoing in the NHS, the social services, the probation service and the courts. In the words of a friend who saw those documents, evidence of ‘serious crime in every agency with whom you had ever had contact’.

Helena Kennedy QC also works at Doughty Street. St Helena is a former colleague of Michael Mansfield and also worked closely with Prof Nigel Eastman of St George’s Hospital Medical School. One of Helena’s books contains an acknowledgement and a thank you to Eastman (see post ‘Eve Was Framed – As Were A Lot Of Other People’). Nigel Eastman was one of those concealing the crimes of Dafydd and the paedophiles.

 

Jeremy Hutchison was a very well-connected man – his sister married a member of the Rothschild family and he married the actress Dame Peggy Ashcroft. He lived in London and in Sussex, ‘the heart of Bloomsbury country’. It was also where John Allen owned brothels to which he trafficked kids in care from north Wales and the area where five witnesses to the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal were killed by a firebomb (see post ‘The Silence Of The Welsh Lambs’).

Jeremy’s second wife June, Lady Hutchison, was as impressive as Dame Peggy. June’s biological father was the lover of Coco Chanel, but he was unaware of her conception and subsequently died in a road accient. After her father’s death June’s mother married the 14th Earl of Westmorland and June subsequently inherited a substantial amount of money. June’s first husband was the pianist Franz Osborn, who died in 1958. June’s was a friend of Lady Diana Cooper, the aristocratic socialite who was a friend of Trumpers (see post ’95 Glorious Years!’). Diana Cooper was married to Duff Cooper, who served as Britain’s Ambassador to France, 1944-48. During this period, Lady Diana’s popularity as a hostess remained undimmed, even after allegations that the embassy guest list included ‘pederasts and collaborators’. There’s nothing like guests with a bit of integrity is there.

Anyone for one of Dafydd’s parties? I did hear about them, they’re legendary…

Diana Cooper tried to get June and Cecil Beaton together – although it was well-known that Beaton was a ‘confirmed bachelor’ ie gay, Beaton did have heterosexual liaisons as well. He began to take June out, dining with people like Francis Bacon and Lucian Freud. Beaton subsequently proposed to June twice but she turned him down. Meanwhile Rhoda Birley, the widow of the portrait painter Sir Oswald, tried to encourage June to marry Ted Heath. At the same time, June tried to persuade Rhoda to marry Heath herself. Whilst all this unfathomable matchmaking involving Ted Heath was going on, June became genuinely keen on Jeremy Hutchinson – who was married to Dame Peggy – and Jeremy and June began an affair. All the action happened whilst June lived at St John’s Wood – which was where Sir Ronnie Waterhouse lived.

‘In her spare time’ – presumably whilst refusing to marry Cecil Beaton and Ted Heath, yet trying to persuade other people to marry Ted Heath and whilst shagging Jeremy Hutchinson – June ‘worked for the mentally handicapped’. She had previously worked as an Angel during WWII.

My post ‘The Old Devils’ details the paedophiles’ friends who ‘worked with the mentally handicapped’ in north Wales, helping them to ‘explore their sexual needs’. Dafydd’s mate Cledwyn Williams was Assistant Director of Social Services, 1983-96, whilst the whole of north Wales was being run for the benefit of Dafydd’s sex trafficking ring.  Cledwyn was responsible for mentally handicapped services and for the all-Wales strategy for people with learning disabilities. After this, he became Director of Social Services for Conwy.

Here he is, but I don’t think that I’d want to explore my sexual needs with a man in a cardigan like this, I’d be fumbling with those buttons:

Cledwyn Williams

 

June Hutchison’s friendship with Heath lasted for a decade. It became known to the general public and to some extent provided cover for her more secret relationship with Hutchinson and possibly for a few things that Heath might have been doing. June was quoted as saying that Heath was ‘a wonderful politician, and would make a great leader’. Er, I don’t remember him being that successful as PM actually June. ‘Who governs Britain?’ ‘Not you, we’ve just voted you out’.

The press noticed that June and Ted were ‘near’ each other on skiing holidays in Switzerland; when there were rumours of marriage she remarked: ‘It is much harder at 45 than at 25. One sees so many failures, don’t you think?’ Well one does in the circles that June moved in, but then targeting Ted Heath as a future husband is probably not going to lead to lifelong marital bliss.

Heath accompanied June to the film premiere of ‘The Yellow Rolls-Royce’ in 1965 and to the reception afterwards at Claridge’s. When pressed to comment, Heath replied: ‘We are just very friendly. I don’t think there’s any more to say. She is also a good friend of Mr Anthony Asquith, who directed the film.’ June was a good friend of quite a few other people as well, including Jeremy Hutchison and her mate Diana was a hostess of pederasts.

In July 1965, shortly before Peggy Ashcroft became aware of the affair with Hutchinson (she was soon to cite June in her divorce proceedings), June said of Heath: ‘He has a woman behind him. I am right behind him, urging him on. He’s a most attractive and wonderful man. No woman in her heart could feel otherwise.’

Edward Heath 4 Allan Warren.jpg

‘Don’t fancy yours much June’.

 

Years later however, June said that Heath had never so much as held her hand, let alone breathed a word of love.

In May 1966 Hutchinson and June were married. Cecil Beaton, to whom June had confided her decision to marry, wrote a letter of support; Heath was somewhat put out at first, though in 1971, after he became PM, he invited the Hutchinsons to Chequers and showed them his bedroom, telling them that it was not normally the PM’s bedroom, as nothing would induce him to sleep in a room previously occupied by Wilson.

At a summer party given by the American Mrs John Barry Ryan in the 1980s, Heath approached June to enquire, somewhat prematurely, about her plans for Christmas. After he had moved on, a fellow guest – who was aware of the earlier friendship – was eager to hear what June might say. ‘He’s become awfully fat,’ she volunteered, which sounds like the sort of thing that Oscar Wilde would have said if he was asked if he’d had sex with someone. Although being fat was probably the least offensive thing about Ted Heath.

 

I have discussed Jeremy Hutchison at length not just because I find the subject matter fascinating, but to illuminate the social circle of some of those who have been accused of involvement in organised sexual abuse and who in return have shrieked with indignation that of course they have done no such thing, how very dare you, they are famous and important and their accusers are no more than nutters, druggies or petty criminals. Hutchison and his associates really did not conduct themselves very well at all in their personal lives. It is true that as a barrister Hutchison exposed hypocrisy which is very welcome, but he also concealed the crimes of some powerful unpleasant people whom he knew damn well could use the lower orders in any way in which they wanted, then completely shaft them if they complained and if necessary drive them to suicide or indeed proffer that as an explanation when their victims were found dead. It really is not just all a bit of Bloomsbury fun – it resulted in people trying to murder Brown and me.

As for those shrieking ‘how very dare you’ about this blog, I can only respond with:

Look at my face – am I bovvered?

  • Catherine Tate bovvered by Christian ads - Telegraph
  • Catherine Tate Quotes. QuotesGram

 

And if you don’t all start fessing up and indeed shutting up on the ‘how very dare you’ front, I’ll carry on blogging until I’ve evolved into this:

  • pilot

 

Sir Hugh Casson pitched in with Jeremy Hutchison to defend Graham Ovenden. Sir Hugh Casson was discussed in my post ‘Heart Of Darkness’. He was Director of Architecture for the Festival of Britain, had his own TV series in the 1980s and was President of the Royal Academy. Sir Hugh was a close friend of the Royal Family and taught Prince Charles how to paint in watercolours. Casson also knew Sir Ronnie Waterhouse.

David Hockney also defended Ovenden. Hockney is probably the UK’s most well-known 20th century artist. He was born in and grew up in Bradford, but since the mid-60s has spent much time living in California. He owns property in London as well as properties in California. Hockney has been openly gay for years and his name was given to me a long time ago as one high profile artist whom it said was advancing the careers of boys who had been his sexual partners. Hockney established the Hockney Foundation in 2008. In 2012, Hockney was estimated to be worth £36 million.

On the morning of 18 March 2013, Hockney’s 23 year old assistant, Dominic Elliott, died as a result of drinking drain cleaner at Hockney’s Bridlington studio. He had also earlier drunk alcohol and taken cocaine, ecstasy and temazepam. It was reported that Hockney’s partner drove Elliott to Scarborough General Hospital where he later died. The inquest returned a verdict of death by misadventure and Hockney was never implicated. In November 2015 Hockney sold his house in Bridlington for £625,000, cutting all his remaining ties with the town.

Scarborough was a town which was effectively run by Jimmy Savile until Savile’s death in 2011. I have been told by two different sources that the medical services in the region have been completely colonised by those involved with child sexual exploitation and the distribution of class A drugs. Both my informants contacted me after they heard that I had uncovered the same situation in north Wales.

Dafydd has had links with Yorkshire for years and used to hold clinics at the Queen’s Hotel in Leeds, which was one of Savile’s hang-outs. Savile visited Bryn Estyn and one boy claimed that he was raped by a group of men whilst Savile watched.

 

My post ‘No-One Is Innocent’ discussed the ‘Welsh Bloomsbury set’ who use to rent cottages in Cwm Croesor in Merionydd from the landowner Sir Clough Williams-Ellis during the middle years of the 20th century. At least one of their victims was hauled off to the North Wales Hospital Denbigh as a young distressed woman with an inconvenient pregnancy and she did not emerge again until she was an old lady. Bertrand Russell was a friend of this group and Russell too was most enthusiastic about the use of Top Doctors to diagnose schizophrenia in and then deal with members of his family who pissed him off (see post ‘So Who Was Angry About What?’). Whilst reading about Jeremy Hutchison and his circle, again and again I noticed the names of people who were, or were associated with, those who gathered at Croesor. Very little has been published about them, but the historian Eric Hobsbawm, who rented a second home off Clough for years, wrote a chapter about Croesor in his 2003 autobiography, ‘Interesting Times: A Twentieth Century Life’.

Eric Hobsbawm wrote about the souring of relationships between the English visitors and some of the residents of Cwm Croesor in the late 1970s. The Hobsbawms, like a number of other regulars, finally stopped visiting. Eric Hobsbawm attributed the hostility partly to the rise of Welsh nationalism – but then Hobsbawm and his family were European Jews who watched Hitler come to power, which left him with a loathing of nationalism of any kind. However Hobsbawm told me that he believed that a great deal of the strife at Croesor was related to the possible closure of Croesor School, which was for some reason held up as a beacon of all that was excellent about north Wales. A number of other people told me that the irony was that the school would have closed down many years previously had it not been for a group of enthusiastic English migrants to the area who drove their children a considerable distance to Croesor School, although it was a Welsh-medium school.

Other people told me that the bad feeling was partly because the second homers and visitors were well-off, rather privileged people and that was very noticeable in comparison to the local people, most of whom had very little. I was told by one local person who did like the visitors and was friendly with them that the visitors’ holiday homes were often better than the only residences of the locals and furthermore that Clough was prepared to spend time and money restoring the second homes for his friends in a way that he never did for local people who rented property from him.

The death knell for the summer crowd at Croesor occurred after Clough’s grandson Robin Llywelyn sent letters to the second homers telling them that he was terminating their tenancies – this happened in the late 1970s or thereabouts. There was a great deal of upset, with second homers who had been friends with Robin’s grandfather and tenants for decades feeling very sore. They did have to go, there was no choice, because Robin stated that he would only rent properties to local people. When I first heard about this, it all sounded a little odd. Not just that these were his grandfather’s mates, but that Robin was, I was told, a member of Plaid and greatly concerned about the problems caused by second homes. Which is understandable, but as the second homers pointed out, the cottages that they were living in had been abandoned. Croesor is a lovely village, but there is no employment there, no public transport and one can see abandoned properties in the area all over the place. Young people who grew up in the village told me that it was great there, but they wanted to leave and they did.

Furthermore Robin Llywelyn is from a family belonging to the landed gentry who many Welsh people would consider to be English, although the correct categorisation would be ‘Anglo-Welsh’. Clough himself didn’t really speak Welsh, he was sent to a English public school and he wasn’t expected to mix with the local people. He was posh and that was how posh people of his generation behaved.

Then I was told by several local people who had lived at Croesor that Robin was not quite as concerned for their housing needs as might be presumed. They complained that nothing was ever repaired, that the rents were still top whack and furthermore that Balfour Beatty were managing the estate. At the time, one could see Balfour Beatty notices everywhere in Croesor, that’s who you had to speak to if you wanted to rent somewhere.

Balfour Beatty is a global multinational company and it does not have an unsullied reputation. It has been at the centre of a number of controversies and scandals. In Oct 2005, Balfour Beatty were found guilty of breaching health and safety laws and were fined £10 million for their involvement in the Hatfield rail crash. The crash resulted in the death of four people and injured more than 70. Among the company’s many acquisitions was GMH Military Housing, a US-based military accommodation business, for £180m in Feb 2008.

In March 2009, Balfour Beatty was found to be a subscriber to the Consulting Association, a firm which then prosecuted by the UK Information Commissioner’s Office or breaching the Data Protection Act by holding a secret database of construction workers details, including union membership and political affiliations and six enforcement notices were issued against Balfour Beatty companies. As of Jan 2010, individual workers had started suing the company for being on the blacklist. The first of these cases however, was ruled in favour of the company.

Balfour Beatty was subsequently one of eight businesses involved in establishing the Construction Workers Compensation Scheme in July 2014, though the scheme was condemned as a ‘PR stunt’ by the GMB union and as ‘an act of bad faith’ by Parliament’s Scottish Affairs Select Committee. In Dec 2017, UNITE announced it had issued high court proceedings relating to blacklisting against 12 major contractors including Balfour Beatty.

Er – we’ve got some conflicting loyalties emerging here. UNITE, that proud defender of everything NHS, who wave their credentials in terms of their support for Angels at every opportunity possible, were shafted by the folk who managed Democratic Robin’s country estate.

From what I discovered – perhaps readers could enlighten me if I’ve got this wrong – Robin’s Democracy and Welshness really began to swell his heart in the late 1970s. One thing that I do know is that Dafydd and the paedophiles destroyed a few of the local people at Croesor and that some of the summer crowd knew about Dafydd and Gwynne. The Croesor summer crowd were an object of fun for some locals, other people watched them as curious and exotic specimens and they were also the subject of a certain amount of gossip, on account of the nudist swimming, extra-marital relationships and various other aspects of their lifestyle which were inconsistent with what one might imagine of Nonconformist north Wales. Bertrand Russell seems to have done some pretty dreadful things to people and he was indeed a sexual predator, but from what I could work out, many of the summer visitors were quite upfront about their Bloomsburyesque habits. They certainly weren’t carrying on like Dafydd and giving lecturers to the Welsh Baptist Union explaining how learning Bible verses in Welsh as a child can protect one against a ‘serious moral collapse’ in later life, whilst they flogged class A drugs and ran a sex trafficking gang (see post ‘A Serious Moral Collapse’).

By the late 1970s, Dafydd and Gwynne were causing ructions. There was such serious mismanagement at UCNW that in 1979 Dafydd Wigley asked Shirley Williams to hold a public inquiry into the paedophiles’ friend Sir Charles Evans’s running of the college. It was in 1979 that Dafydd Alun Jones illegally imprisoned Mary Wynch and the spotlight was upon north Wales once more. Dafydd and the paedophiles really didn’t need that because business was booming, Dafydd’s associates had opened children’s homes right across north Wales and the homes were all part of the same trafficking organisation. Dafydd Wigley will have known all about it, despite his request to Shirl. Shirl knew about it as well. North Wales was having to deal with the massive problems caused by the Westminster Paedophile Ring but no-one dared admit that was what was at the root of so much of the rot.

Gwynedd County Council and elements in Plaid were making electioneering capital out of issues such as independence for Wales, second homes, the Welsh language and the closure of small schools. These are important issues, but whereas Plaid were happy to flag them up, the havoc caused by a paedophile gang operating across the whole region was ignored, or blamed on other factors. Down in south Wales, the Windbag was basing his future leadership bid on his opposition to devolution and attributing the problems in the schools in Gwynedd to the Welsh language policy of Gwynedd County Council. The Windbag forgot to mention that the real problem was a gang of child abusers – probably because his wife was a school teacher from Holyhead and her parents were friends with Lord Cledwyn, one of the people who had covered up for Dafydd and Gwynne for years. And of course everyone remained busy ignoring George Thomas’s molesting of children (see post ‘It Wasn’t On Our Radar’).

After about 1977, no-one expected Labour to win another election, it was taken as read that Thatch would be PM. Peter Morrison was by then the Tory MP for Chester and had been one of Thatcher’s key supporters for the leadership after Heath had been shoved out. Morrison was also abusing kids in care in north Wales and this was quite widely known. Morrison was being protected by, among others, Gerald Cavendish Grosvenor, the Duke of Westminster. His fortune was worth about £9 billion and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth regarding the strategies that he was using not to pay income tax on it. I’m fairly sure that I read that Grosvenor left the Conservative Party after tax changes were either proposed or implemented that would result in Grosvenor having to stump up. People with a great deal of wealth do tend to like to hang onto it. Particularly if they own family estates – it’s not just about the dosh then, it’s also about their history and their children’s inheritance.

Just imagine what would have happened to Democratic Welsh Robin if Thatcher’s Gov’t had fallen as a result of a scandal involving one of her friends and Ministers sexually abusing children in care in north Wales. A Labour Gov’t would have taxed the arse off Democratic Welsh Robin. Some of those free-living bohemians whom Democratic Welsh Robin had booted off of his estate were privileged in comparison with local people, but they were a load of old lefties who were involved with anti-nuclear and other radical causes. Some of them were also famous – E.P. Thompson and Eric Hobsbawm were regulars in magazines like ‘The New Statesman’ and ‘Marxism Today’.

There was someone else who lived down in Croesor as well long ago who might well have found out what Dafydd and Gwynne were doing – he was a young American who was a draft-dodger and had come to the UK to avoid Vietnam. He ended up with the radicals down in Croesor and I was told that he stayed there for quite a long time. He later became a US Senator. Some of the draft-dodgers did pretty well for themselves didn’t they Bill?

‘I did not have sexual relations with that woman.’

Oh yes you did!

‘There was no evidence of a paedophile ring in north Wales involving Westminster figures.’
Really? Just go and ask that Senator…  He could hardly have forgotten this:

Dr Dafydd Alun Jones

 

The first time that I saw D.G.E. Wood literally blanch was following the row when I complained about Gwynne and after Brown had his first article published in the ‘Journal Of Radical Philosophy’ – I told Wood that Brown was thinking of writing for ‘Marxism Today’… I attributed Wood looking like death to being dim and a ‘Daily Mail’ reader – which he was, I am not simply saying that to insult Wood, he did like his ‘Daily Mail’. That’s the ‘Daily Mail’ that was unbelievably offensive about Eric Hobsbawm after he died and of course who also put the boot into Ed and David’s dad Ralph Miliband when he died. Ralph Miliband was mates with Eric Hobsbawm, E.P. Thompson and the New Left contingent. Ralph had also worked at Leeds University and I bet that he knew about the Westminster Paedophile Ring as well, particularly as Ed’s Uncle Harry – who’s passion for the NHS was enough to move Ed to tears every time that Ed remembered Uncle Harry – Ralph’s brother-in-law, was a Top Doctor at Tommy’s whilst his colleagues, some of whom were mates with Dafydd, concealed the Westminster Paedophile Ring.

After Ralph Miliband died, the ‘Daily Mail’ published their famously insulting article about him, entitled ‘The Man Who Hated Britain’. One of the men who hated Britain so much that he ensured that not a word was ever published about the rot at the heart of the British establishment that led to people being murdered to keep a lid on the barrel of shit that is the Westminster Paedophile Ring was Paul Dacre.

 

Paul Dacre has just announced his intention to resign as the Editor of the ‘Daily Mail’. On the ‘Today’ programme two days ago, those wonderful old Glendas Ann Leslie and Polly Toynbee were arguing the toss about how much good or otherwise Dacre had done the nation as a publisher of bigoted bile. Ann thought that Dacre was great ‘but his language is terrible’. ‘Private Eye’ refers to Dacre as ‘the double cunting Dacre’ on the grounds that Dacre often strings the c word together when he’s really riled. He hadn’t better do that in front of Dafydd, all I did was call Dafydd a wanker and Dafydd used this as evidence that I was not ‘mentally normal’ and dangerous to boot and then Bluglass agreed. On another occasion I said ‘bugger’, so Dafydd rang the police and reported me.

I don’t know whether Dafydd has ever scene the film ‘Wish You Were Here’, but the scene in which the batty old psychiatrist has the piss taken out of him by a swearing teenager pretty much described Dafydd’s interactions with his own patients.

Poll maintained that Dacre had left nought but a legacy of racism and sexism, but Ann Leslie laughed like a drain and told Poll that the Daily Mail’s campaigns had been rather more successful than the Guardian’s campaigns. Neither of the Glendas has ever published on the deaths of kids in care and mental health patients in north Wales. The Sindie, ‘The Observer’ and ‘Private Eye’ went there of course in 1992 and were successfully sued by one of the police officers who was abusing the kids in care.

Since the double cunting Dacre announced his intention to resign, it has been stated that the next editor of the ‘Daily Mail’ will be another man who might well hate Britain enough not to publish anything about Dafydd, but we’ll have to wait and see – the next Editor will be Geordie Greig. Geordie Greig is a member of White’s club. Other members of White’s include Prince Charles (he held his stag party there before marrying Diana), Prince William and Norman Lamont. Sir Peter Morrison was a member, as was Gerald Cavendish Grosvenor. David Cameron was a member of White’s until 2008 when he resigned because White’s refused to admit women. Cameron’s father Ian had been a member for donkey’s years and was the former Chairman. So who let Morrison in then?

Greig is the Editor of the ‘Mail On Sunday’. He previously worked on ‘The Sunday Times’ and has also been the Editorial Director of ‘The Independent On Sunday’ and ‘The Independent’. Greig might well have been Editorial Director of The Indie and the Sindie when they published the article naming Gordon Anglesea as a child abuser which caused Anglesea to sue them and win nearly £400k damages. In 2016 Anglesea was jailed for the historical abuse of kids in care in north Wales. My posts ‘Y Gwir Yn Erbyn Y Byd’   and ‘Y Gwir Yn Erbyn Y Byd – A Few Additional Comments’ detail why I think that George Carman QC, who acted for the newspapers against Anglesea, threw the trial. It wasn’t long before that trial that the five witnesses were killed by the firebomb in Brighton. Weeks after the trial, Mark Humphreys, who gave evidence against Anglesea was found dead, hanging from the stairwell in the block of flats in Wrexham where he lived.

Geordie Greig’s sister was a Lady-in-Waiting to Diana.

CRASH!!!

If Mr Greig wants to stay alive, perhaps he’d better keep away from tunnels and be very careful what he publishes. He’s going to have to be another man who hates Britain.

Geordie Greig: hack who mastered media politics to rise to the top

 

The Croesor lefties could have caused havoc if they’d gone public about Dafydd and the paedophiles. Not only would Democratic Welsh Robin have received a great deal of very unwelcome publicity, but his bank balance would have suffered as well.

Democratic Welsh Robin runs the family business, which is of course Portmeirion Ltd. The most famous branch of the business is the Italianate village which Clough built and where the 1960s TV series ‘The Prisoner’ was filmed, but there’s also the shops, the hotel, the restaurant and the other restaurant. Everything related to Portmeirion is really very nice, but it is rather expensive. Very expensive. Well beyond the pockets of the local people…

Democratic Welsh Robin holds a rock festival every year, Festival No 6. Like everything Portmeirion, it is expensive and many of the visitors are affluent people from England. In 2012 Festival No 6 was particularly proud to headline a local boy made good – Gruff Rhys from Llanllechid, who made it big with the Super Furry Animals, just as the investigations into the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal began. Gruff Rhys’s dad was Ioan Bowen Rees, who was the Chief Exec of Gwynedd County Council whilst the paedophile gang caused havoc in Gwynedd children’s homes. It was Ioan who appointed Dafydd’s mistress Lucille Hughes as Director of Social Services for Gwynedd. Read all about Ioan’s son’s rise from a schoolboy who practised his music with his friends in the village where I used to live – as people tried to set fire to my house – to international superstar, in my post ‘The International Language Of Screaming’.

I’ll just remind readers here that a Welsh speaking psychiatric social worker was appointed sometime in the late 60s/70s and he lived in the Croesor area. This was presented as a triumph for democracy, because the poor sods targeted for incarceration and lobotomy by Dafydd and Gwynne could now be ‘assessed’ in their first language. Which is important, but if the person speaking your first language is working for Dafydd and Gwynne – who were also first language Welsh – and he’s helping them run a sex trafficking ring, you are still going to be in very deep water.

Democratic Welsh Robin is Director of the family charity, the Susan Williams-Ellis Foundation. The Foundation states that it makes grants to organisations including those concerned with ‘community development/employment/children/young people…’

Python fans will remember the Tale of Brave Sir Robin, who ran away.

  • Brave Sir Robin ran away... | Monty Python | Pinterest

 

 

As well as all the witnesses who can provide first hand accounts of Dafydd’s atrocious conduct, many years ago Dafydd declared himself to be a psychopath and discussed his psychopathology live on the radio. I missed this, but a lot of other people heard it, including Jackie Ehlen, the north Wales forensic psychiatry nurse who knows the truth behind the death of Dorothy Griffiths, the patient who’s body was found in a bathroom at Ysbyty Gwynedd and at whose inquest NHS staff told a pack of lies (see post ‘Inside Information About A Hergest Unit Death’). Jackie Ehlen was used by the paedophile gang to deal with all those dangerous patients who had complained about Dafydd. Jackie was up late one night, listening to the James Whale Radio Show when Dafydd rung in and talked about himself being a psychopath. James Whale interviewed him live.

James Whale presented that show in the late 1980s. So whilst the world called Alison and me liars and our complaints remained either uninvestigated or were investigated by the likes of Robert Bluglass who then used the process as an excuse to make serious unfounded allegations against us, whilst the dead bodies of patients and kids in care were turning up everywhere and while everyone reassured everyone else that there were ‘no concerns’ in north Wales, Dafydd rang up James Whale and made a confession.

But then Jimmy Savile wrote about making an arrangement with the police to allow him to sexually use a teenaged runaway in his autobiography.

The James Whale Radio Show was produced by Yorkshire TV. In June 1989 Yorkshire TV approached Alison Taylor with a view to making a film about child abuse in north Wales and in Sept 1989 Alison was filmed extensively by Yorkshire TV. In Feb 1990, Yorkshire TV abandoned their programme about abuse in north Wales. Although Dafydd had rung them in the early hours and fessed up.

Dafydd was often up and about all night. He crashed into police stations and even into the North Wales Hospital at midnight to see me and a former social worker admitted that Dafydd would turn up to conduct ward rounds at 3 am. He would answer his phone at any time of the night – which certainly entertained Hergest patients when they wanted a bit of fun – lest it was a celebrity criminal ringing, in need of extraction from trouble.

Here are the key characters from ‘Open All Hours’:

 

One of those who ran the paedophile gang for Dafydd and Lucille was called Glanville rather than Granville.

No wonder Thatch relied upon the services of Dafydd to keep her in power, she had a thing about grocer’s shops.

‘There is no evidence that Dr Jones ever behaved anything other than professionally and in his patients’ best interests.’

So ‘no-one knew’ where Dafydd was when he didn’t turn up to his clinics in Ysbyty Gwynedd, despite him being Open All Hours? Well we service users knew where he was. Sometimes he was at the Queen’s Hotel in Leeds and sometimes he was in the south of France ‘with a GP friend’. Because we were ringing him up when he was there. John Allen owned a villa in the south of France where kids in care were taken ‘for holidays’. One day Dafydd started mocking us when he was in France and telling us that as penniless service users we really couldn’t afford to go ringing him in the south of France on his mobile, Dafydd being one of the first in Wales to acquire a mobile. Well I’ve got news for Dafydd. Those calls to France cost us bugger all, because the phone box in Rachub was malfunctioning. All we had to do was put the first few 2 ps in and then it kept us connected for as long as we wanted.

 

 

Some more Bangor University staff who will know the details of the dirty tricks used by Prof Fergus Lowe to hold all the collaborators with Dafydd and the paedophiles over a barrel:

Dr Kevin Mundy aka the Fat Controller. Mundy was Fungus’s right hand man for years. Mundy was the henchman and was so often employed to do Fungus’s dirty work that a lot of people thought that Kevin Mundy was Fungus. Fungus was small and bald and used to sneak around incognito, whereas Kevin Mundy was big and aggressive and would be the one glowering in people’s faces up close and personal. Mundy was described to me as an ‘evil bastard’ and was Head of the euphemistically titled Planning Dept in Bangor University. The Planning Dept was colloquially called the House of Black Arts and it was known to be the place where wicked deeds were formulated by Fungus which would then be carried out by Mundy and his sidekick, the Poison Dwarf. I didn’t know the Poison Dwarf’s real name, he was Michael someone – he was even smaller than Fungus, but ginger. He was Musical, so often used to wear a bandana around his head, even with his suit when he was on Official Intimidating Business. I was told that the Poison Dwarf learnt all he knew at the knee of the Fat Controller and that the Fat Controller learnt all he knew ‘at the tit of Fungus’.

Dr Mundy will be delighted to know that Bangor University staff derived much entertainment from his role as a leading light and a preacher in a church in Bangor. I could hardly believe it when I was told, so someone showed me the video clips of the Fat Controller leading the singing and shaking the maracas at a ‘happy clappy’ church in Upper Bangor. It was fantastic, but we never knew how he had time to do it all as well as put Fungus’s wickedness into practice. The Fat Controller didn’t just sing and shake the maracas, he was writing prayers and holding group meetings, the lot.

So perhaps the Fat Controller and the Poison Dwarf would like to provide details of how Fungus was going to use his contacts with influential people who had colluded with Dafydd and the paedophiles to fit the Vice-Chancellor up for a criminal offence – after ‘blackening his name’ – whilst the VC was away from the University caring for his terminally ill wife, who didn’t survive the ‘care’ of the paedophiles’ friends at the Walton Centre, although a member of the paedophile gang survived a very similar illness at the same time and she was treated by the same Top Doctors. I heard from some Fungus acolytes about how everyone could forget about the VC now, because Fungus was going to be the only one who mattered. Oh and would Fungus’s Cunning Plan have been related to the theft of my computer by the brother-in-law of John McTernan, Blair’s policy adviser?

In the light of just how serious matters were and the number of people in high places – like Gov’t – who were involved, if the Fat Controller and the Poison Dwarf know anything about the letters from my lawyer which were opened before they arrived in my pigeonhole and were then even opened by someone in the Royal Mail when I had them sent to my house instead, please do tell. What about the obstacles and wires that were put across the end of my drive by someone who knew that I usually left the house before dark and would have driven straight into them, had I not been delayed that morning?

Then there was the violent attack on a woman in the grounds of my old Dept – it seems that the meathead who did that thought that he was assaulting me, but he got the wrong person.

Another accomplice of Fungus’s could also explain the background to his orders from Fungus to intimidate my PhD supervisor’s wife out of her job at the University – the accomplice in question being one Prof Lew Hardy, a specialist in sports science and ‘coaching elite athletes’, a serial shagger of postgrads and all round dickwit. You big idiot Hardy, you were doing the work of someone who was concealing a paedophile gang. Explain that to your ‘elite athletes’ who are beating a path to your door to receive your pearls. I presume that it was another dodge between you and Fungus that led to that much-boasted about grant that you landed not so long ago on the basis of your ‘excellence’.

Lew Hardy was a colleague of Dave Brailsford’s dad – the Dave Brailsford of ‘Team Sky’, ‘what doping in sport, of course I know nuzzing’. You all knew about a bloody gang of sex traffickers, it’s how the collection of mediocrities that is you managed to get so far, it certainly wasn’t on ability.

 

There are now so many stories in the media about miracle cures for cancer and dementia and explanations of how the NHS needs so much more money that I am no longer bothering to read them. However I did manage to read ‘The Daily Telegraph’ letters page earlier this week. I always enjoy reading what the Sir Bufton Tuftons and Sir Herbert Gussetts have to say as they write in from Barking-in-the-Marshes. So imagine my surprise when I couldn’t find a letter from a Sir Bufton or a Sir Herbert, but I did find a whole load of letters from public-spirited Torygraph readers writing in with their Top Tips with regard to saving the NHS money in these times of austerity. There were the usual suggestions concerning the importance of returning crutches that one has been issued with, but there were a few more imaginative plans as well. It’s good of the Torygraph readers to try to help, but somehow I fear that their efforts will be lost in the face of the millions that are being siphoned off into the pockets of Dafydd and his friends; blown on IT systems which cost billions, which everyone knows will never work but the contract can’t be cancelled because it’s a friend of someone in New Labour who owns the company; the millions squandered on management consultancy fees because the highly paid managers can’t do their jobs, so the Trust has to pay the former managers who were just as hopeless but who took early retirement and have now set up their own consultancy to come in and ‘advise’; the fortune being paid on agency nurses because the Angels can then work on the same ward for double the money and the Trust managers and a few politicians own the agency, so it’s win-win all around; then there’s the ‘ground breaking research’ which will be delivering the cure for cancer/dementia or identifying the ‘gene for schizophrenia’ within the next few months.

Just make sure that those sodding patients don’t cause ‘a rise in demand’ which will ‘push the NHS into crisis’…

 

Come in Number Six…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last Man Standing

I have plagiarized the title of this post from Jack Straw’s autobiography which I am about to start reading. Because I haven’t read his book yet I don’t know why a privileged former Cabinet Minister has framed himself as the last man standing, but the subject of this blog post really is worthy of that title, as his chances of reaching mid-life yet alone pensionable age were so much lower than Straw’s. I decided to write this post to illustrate the ways in which mental health patients’ experiences are grossly caricatured by mental health staff, how abuses and horrors are intentionally air-brushed out of medical histories and how if anyone really wanted to uncover the institutional wrongdoing that was prevalent in north Wales during the latter decades of the twentieth century they could, quite easily.

The man starring in this post is F, a man who has spent most of his adult life living among the hippy community in Bethesda. F acquired diagnoses of, variously, ‘paranoid schizophrenia’, ‘drug induced psychosis’ and ‘chronic psychotic illness, resistant to medication’. F did suffer from a psychotic illness and at stages during his life had been in a very bad way indeed, but the way in which he had arrived at that state does not appear in any of his medical records. F is – unbelievably for those of us who know something of his adventures – still alive, although I understand is no longer under the ‘care’ of the mental health services, after a lifetime of their ‘help’. He told them to piss off some three years ago as he had decided that they play no useful role.

As did many of the Bethesda hippies, F came from a middle class background in England but actively made the decision to ‘drop out’ sometime in the seventies. He moved to Bethesda in either the late 70s or early 80s when his first wife took up a place at Bangor to do teacher training. By the time that F had moved to Bethesda he had already acquired a degree in Fine Art – at one point he was described as the most talented artist in north Wales, but unlike his contemporaries Ed Povey and Peter Prendergast, F was seriously hampered by illness. He could still do the artistic bit and churned out excellent work but tended to say and do bizarre and unacceptable things at exhibitions or when trying to negotiate sales, which unsurprisingly resulted in him not ever selling very much.

By the time that they arrived in Bethesda, F and his wife were enthusiastic dope blowers as well as keen consumers of magic mushrooms. They were completely uninterested in narcotics, had pretty much given up amphetamines but occasionally took hallucinogens. Although F’s wife qualified as a teacher she didn’t like teaching and she established a gardening and house renovating business. F spent most of his time painting although he did spend a few summers working as a gardener at Penrhyn Castle – he inherited money as a young man which enabled him to lead quite a leisurely lifestyle. Previous posts have discussed the police corruption that was rampant in north Wales. This has received UK-wide media coverage because of the part that it played in the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal, but students and hippies invariably experienced it in the form of the completely bent drug squad that operated in north Wales, in particular two notorious plain clothes drug squad officers who used to frequent the Bangor area and stitch up anyone whom had crossed their path. The effect of the actions of these two was to constantly harass and prosecute people for possessing small amounts of cannabis whilst allowing a thriving trade in hard drugs to develop in the area, to a large degree facilitated by Dafydd Alun Jones’s ‘peer support workers’ at CAIS who were frequently dealing to their ‘clients’.

F came to the attention of the corrupt drug squad because he was basically a hippy who was newly arrived in the area. In the early 80s they raided his house. During the raid, they planted cocaine in his wife’s handbag and seized the small amount of cannabis that was in the house. The drug squad then ordered F’s wife to make a statement against him, framing him for possessing much greater quantities of drugs than he actually had, in return for a plea bargain concerning the cocaine that they had planted on her. F and his wife had a volatile relationship and led a fairly chaotic existence – although they were both bright and well-educated – and thus F’s wife allowed herself to be threatened by the drug squad in this way. So F was arrested and taken off to the police station. He was not given access to a solicitor whilst he was there. At the police station – I think it was Bangor – he was ordered to strip naked. After he did so, a senior officer – F described him as an ‘inspector’ – walked into the room and in F’s words ‘ogled me’ and commented on his genitals. F responded by saying ‘Christ can’t I even undress in peace’ and ‘why do you want to look at another naked man’. The Inspector punched him in the face. F responded by saying ‘that took a real man with the whole police force behind you’ and stated to the constable who had witnessed this assault that he would complain about this. The Inspector walked out and F didn’t see him again. F  was charged with possession of drugs – far more than he had actually been in possession of – and after a long while, with no medical attention following the punch in the face, was released. He went back to Bethesda, distressed after what had happened at the police station.

He was alone at home, his wife had gone back to England to visit family, not knowing what had happened at the station. That night, F descended into a full blown psychosis. He had not consumed any drugs since leaving the station – his interpretation is that the arrest, framing and assault at the station had been so traumatising that it all precipitated the psychotic episode. (F had experienced his first psychotic episode in England a couple of years previously.) F’s account of that night is that he hallucinated giant spiders crawling out of the walls, a demon sitting in the corner of the room and then heard God’s voice telling him to ‘raze this house’. F set fire to the house – it was a terrace and fortunately the neighbours saw smoke and called the fire brigade. By this time F had left the house believing that it was possessed. He spent the night outside, seriously ill and he was only picked up when the police arrested him for arson and endangering life.

He was taken to the magistrates court – I think in Bangor – and was detained in the notorious Risley Remand Centre for ‘psychiatric assessment’. F’s account is that after two weeks or so in Risley, the psychotic episode had passed – not that he received any ‘medication’ whilst he was there. He graphically described to me how every night he heard the screams of the other prisoners as they were beaten up by the prison officers, how prison officers taunted all the prisoners with threats of ‘we’ll make sure you come back here and it will be even worse when you do’ and how when he asked an officer if he would change the light bulb in his cell because it kept flickering on and off and was stopping him from sleeping, the officer removed the light bulb leaving him in darkness saying ‘you’ll sleep alright now won’t you’. He was left in darkness for several days. But something else happened to F whilst he was in Risley. A detective from London came to visit him and tried to interview him. This detective got frustrated with F and gave up, threw him back in his cell saying ‘There’s no point talking to you, you’re mad’. F told me this story many times but he never managed to work out what it was that the detective from London wanted to know. F remembers the detective constantly saying ‘I want to talk to you about your brother’. F  had a brother who lived in Surrey whom he did not get on with and had little contact with. F’s brother ran the family business, he was not involved with drugs or hippydom and he was very condemning of F’s lifestyle. So it is unlikely that the detective would have been hoping to grill F about any potential criminal activities involving his brother.

I had always presumed that the detective would have been after info about the drugs trade in north Wales. But researching the details of the North Wales Child Abuse Ring and it’s network into Westminster has thrown up another possibility that F himself never mentioned. F had been violently assaulted after challenging an Inspector who had walked into his cell after F had been framed and ordered to take off his clothes. F was a young man when this happened, he was attractive as a young man and he was also very slightly built. We now know that police officers such as Gordon Anglesea – who was, guess what, an Inspector – were sexually abusing boys and young men after they had been arrested, detained and criminalised for trivial offences. Those young men described being violently assaulted if they resisted – and many of them ended up in Risley Remand Centre or in the mental health system. F had announced his intention to complain about the officer who hit him. The assault had been witnessed by a constable. F was not an illiterate teenager who had grown up in care, he was from a middle class affluent family and his wife’s father was a society dentist with mates in Harley Street. F’s wife’s brother was a journalist. I’m wondering if there might have been some very worried police officers after F ended up going psychotic – F had of course made the headlines of the local papers after setting fire to the house. I suspect that this might have been why F received a visit from a detective from London when he was in Risley. F’s father was dead and his mother had returned to South Africa to live (she grew up there and only moved to England after she married) – so F’s brother was his only blood relative. F’s next of kin was of course his wife – who had been framed by the police herself and forced to make a statement against him. I really don’t think that the North Wales Police would have wanted to answer any difficult questions about what had happened to F in the police station.

So what happened to F after this detective visited him in Risley? Whilst he was there, F’s psychotic episode quietened down. By this time he did have a solicitor, who visited him in Risley and told him that although everyone accepted that he was no longer psychotic, he was going to be transferred to the North Wales Hospital Denbigh ‘to keep the courts happy’. F was told that he would only be expected to stay at Denbigh for three weeks or so. The charges of ‘endangering life’ were dropped – interestingly enough, after F’s solicitor mentioned that he had been assaulted by an unidentified police officer. F was charged and convicted of arson. He was then transferred to the North Wales Hospital – to the care of one Dr Dafydd Alun Jones!

So F arrived at Denbigh, no longer psychotic. Once there he was told again that he would just be there for a month or so as a formality. He had an interview with Dafydd and like all interviews with Dafydd it was bizarre. F described Dafydd as ‘a bit of a twat’, but F is quite open and friendly even to twats, so cheerfully engaged in a conversation with Dafydd about his cannabis smoking habits. F’s account of his interview with Dafydd is worth hearing – he does a good impersonation of Dafydd and explains how he mentioned to Dafydd that he was walking in the mountains and ate some grass. To which Dafydd responded ‘do you mean mar-i-jew-a-na?’. F replied ‘no, grass’. Dafydd asked ‘why were you eating grass?’ F explained ‘because I was thirsty’. At which point Dafydd began furiously scribbling away. F later caught sight of his notes – Dafydd had described him as ‘a man with pleasant manners and casual attire’ who of course was suffering from ‘cannabis psychosis’. No mention of F and his wife being framed by the drug squad, no mention of F being punched in the face by a senior police officer who had inexplicably appeared as F was naked, no mention of conditions at Risley Remand Centre, no mention of the detective from London visiting F at Risley, no mention of F no longer being psychotic and only being admitted to Denbigh ‘to keep the courts happy’. No mention of any of it – but a diagnosis of cannabis psychosis!

So did F only stay at Denbigh for a month to keep the courts happy? No, of course not. F was in Denbigh for a year. When F was first admitted to Denbigh, F commented to the nurses on their quasi-military uniforms. He playfully flicked the epaulettes on the shirt of one nurse and asked him if he was a sergeant major. He was dragged off down a corridor and sedated. After about four weeks in Denbigh F was offered amphetamines by another patient. Yes, Dafydd’s proud establishment, his much boasted about ‘therapeutic community’ where people who’d grown up in care and hippies had to remain for months and months to keep them away from the perils of cannabis, was host to a healthy trade in drugs much more problematic than cannabis. At the time that F was offered the amphetamines, he was severely depressed so he accepted the offer. Whatever he was given was incredibly strong – and it precipitated another psychotic episode. So F was deemed to be suffering from such a serious form of cannabis psychosis that he was detained by Dafydd for a year.

Imprisoning F for a year lest anyone began to investigate those corrupt police officers wasn’t enough for Dafydd though. F only narrowly escaped ending up in Holyrood House, the appalling ‘care home’ in Llandudno run by Margaret Richards that was choc full of Dafydd’s patients. Holyrood House was the centre of a media expose in the 1980s and even got a mention on ‘That’s Life’. Patients were being beaten up by a heavy who was employed as a ‘security guard’ there and a former drug addict from Liverpool was responsible for the drugs cabinet. When Dafydd finally decided that the coast was clear and that it was safe to let F out, he told F that he would make a better recovery in lovely Llandudno. F told me that he ‘wanted to get back to dogs, Bethesda and mess, not live in bloody Llandudno’. Dafydd then refused to let F out ‘because you do not have an offer of accommodation’. Apart from Holyrood House that was. After a few weeks of Dafydd trying to force F into Holyrood House or be forever incarcerated in Denbigh, F sneaked out of the grounds, rang a hippy friend in Bethesda, explained what was happening and the hippy friend agreed to write to Dafydd offering F accommodation. And that is the only way that F actually got out of Denbigh.

F had many other adventures in Denbigh. I’m not going to detail them all here, I’m going to let those we know and love guess how much F told me. They’ll all know who F is and because F is chatty a lot of them actually know what happened to him before he set fire to his house because he used to talk about it quite openly. But those bastards don’t know what else he told me….

Whilst F was in Denbigh, he did try and engage the help of the charity ‘Release’, which had a reputation for being able to get people out of prison or police custody if they had been arrested on drugs charges. A man from ‘Release’ did go all the way up to Denbigh from England, but he was unable to get F out. I wonder what he thought was happening – he had travelled to the wilds of Wales and found a sane but eccentric man being held prisoner in a hell-hole…

I knew F well for the best part of ten years and I knew how he and his problems were conceptualised by the Hergest Unit throughout the 1990s. It was all a matter of drug induced psychosis – or occasionally there would be speculation that he was someone who would have been vulnerable to psychosis anyway, but his consumption of drugs triggered it. I heard him tell Hergest staff what had happened before the fire. I was even in his company when he met the policeman who had witnessed the Inspector punch him in the face and he reminded that policeman of what had happened that day – the policeman still worked locally. The policeman looked sheepish and had a sudden lapse of memory. More recently that particular policeman was stationed at Ysbyty Gwynedd.

North Wales is heaving with people who knew that these sorts of things were happening. They are all colluding in a sort of en masse delusion as many of them now move into their comfortable retirements on public service pensions. Every time the North Wales Child Abuse ring is mentioned – ooh, no, I never knew anything about that. Every time police corruption is mentioned – ooh but we never knew. As for Denbigh – ooh it wasn’t good, but no, we didn’t know patients were being abused….

F’s adventures at Risley and at the hands of Dafydd are some thirty years ago now. But F was stung more recently all over again by those we know and love. My post ‘It’s All About Protecting Children’ details how F was denied access to his own baby because he dared report a child molester who was being protected by Jo Bott, the monstrous ‘safeguarding officer’. Bott had previously been a police officer. That post also describes the untimely death of yet someone else who had witnessed wrongdoing on the part of Gwynedd Social Service’s child protection team – this young man was killed just at the time that no-one could deny any longer that child abuse on an enormous scale had taken place in north Wales and talk of police cover-ups and possible public inquiries were in the media.

I mentioned at the beginning of this post how F has suffered from a psychotic illness throughout his life. This is true – he is bright and sociable, but he certainly had difficulties throughout the whole time that I knew him. But the thing that I noticed more and more during the 90s were that a lot of F’s difficulties were being caused by the mental health services. Not just in the obvious ways – they stood by whilst he was fleeced financially by an unscrupulous family after he finally split up from his first wife and they stood by whilst lies were perpetuated about him which led to him losing access to his own child – but the ‘medication regime’ that he was on had to be witnessed to be believed. This was someone who when he was young did take drugs – but he gave up illegal drugs after the house fire and the year in Denbigh. Instead he moved onto prescribed drugs – which were given to him in huge quantities by the mental health services. Obviously they didn’t have to work too hard to persuade him to take them, he was delighted to have some drugs to take – but they did bugger all to try to stop him. As far as I knew there were only two people – two of the rather better GPs that worked in the area – who warned him frankly about the dangers of excessive drugs and told him that they would in no way collude with him if he abused prescription drugs. The psychiatrists at the Hergest Unit – namely Dr Tony Francis (Dr X) and Dr Bob Tresman – loaded him up with more and more drugs as the years went by. The drugs were never reviewed, although they were very obviously affecting F’s functioning – he used to sleep for about 18 hours a day because he was so heavily sedated – and whenever he expressed any anxiety or stress (which he did very regularly) the prescription pad would be wielded and another anti-psychotic or benzodiazepine would be added. But no drug was EVER removed as another one was added. Suggestions from other people that he might be massively over-medicated would be brushed aside with ‘but he’s got a psychotic illness’. Yet bizarrely his Hergest notes described him as ‘chronically psychotic, resistant to medication’. If his illness was resistant to medication why did they continue to dispense so much of it and continue adding to it?

As F hit his 40s, his teeth very obviously began to disintegrate. He maintained that there was nothing wrong with his teeth because he wasn’t experiencing toothache. In the end, he was persuaded by his friends to visit a dentist. By the time that he made that visit his teeth were so far gone that the dentist maintained that the only option was to remove the remains that were there. F was staggered and asked the dentist why he hadn’t been getting toothache. The dentist explained that he was on such high levels of benzodiazepines and anti-psychotics that his pain receptors weren’t responding. Even the dentist was shocked as to the drugs that were being prescribed. There was one person in F’s life who took prescription drugs along with him though – that was a social worker who lived in the village who had been a friend of his from his hippy days. She used to pop around for a coffee and down a few benzodiazepines with him, just as the rest of his friends were desperately trying to impress upon him that the shite being foisted upon him by the wielders of prescription pads in the Hergest was not really doing him any good. That social worker now works as a social work trainer for Conwy!

F is no longer living in Bethesda and I haven’t seen him for years, but one of my friends is in contact with him. He is now in his 60s and I am told that his psychotic symptoms have decreased drastically, that he still paints and that his moods are much more stable. A few years ago for a while, for the first time in his life, he was allocated a CPN whom I was told was head and shoulders above the others. This CPN actually managed to get a review of F’s medication to reduce the amount being prescribed. His psychotic symptoms gradually started to recede….

So that’s the story of F, who is indeed the last man standing from Denbigh. As far as I know, I and two other women are the last women standing. Like nearly all the former kids in care who witnessed the North Wales Paedophile Ring in action, everyone else from Denbigh (and pretty much the early days of the Hergest Unit as well) is dead. But before they died, they will have told scores of people what had happened to them. Which was almost certainly why no-one worked too hard to ensure that they stayed alive.

F spent more than thirty years being used by the mental health services in north Wales as a cautionary tale of the perils of Too Much Cannabis. He was actually the consequence of a corrupt drug squad, a perverted and violent police inspector, a corrupt magistrates court and Dr Dafydd Alun Jones and the associated thoroughly rotten mental health and children’s services. Compared to the damage that lot did to F, the cannabis was neither here nor there.

Although the main trashing of F seems to have been precipitated by the fear of what would happen if anyone started investigating the circumstances in which he was arrested and what subsequently went on in the police station, a lot of people had a vested interest years later in ensuring that no-one would believe anything that F said and not just because of his knowledge of the misconduct on the part of the children’s services in Gwynedd. F had a sense of humour and although he was always dismissed by Hergest staff as being completely mad, he chatted to people, listened to their stories, remembered those stories and often knew some of the ‘professionals’ whose misconduct he was hearing about. He had heard nearly as many first hand accounts of Dr Dafydd Alun Jones’s inappropriate conduct with female patients and staff as I had heard; he noticed that everyone appointed as a ‘service user representative’ in Gwynedd and Anglesey was a total fuckwit who were simply doing what they were told by the managers of the mental health services and he confronted Alun Davies, the manager of the Hergest Unit, about the naked corruption that was occurring between the managers and clinical director of Ysbyty Gwynedd, Dr Terry Maxwell; he personally knew people who had been threatened with violence by staff of the Arfon Community Mental Health Team; he knew scores of dispossessed people in the area whose lives had been ruined by those we know and love, including people who had been sexually molested by people paid to care for them; he knew about the corruption in MIND and had confronted the staff in the Bangor branch about it and was then banned from the ‘drop in centre’ by the Voice Of The Patients Helen Milne (who after ignoring the criminal abuse of patients at MIND was given the Rape Crisis Centre to play with would you believe) and sometimes, as a result of entertaining himself, F would uncover serious wrongdoing. One such occasion involved F’s efforts to secure a telephone for the Hergest whistleblower.

The Hergest whistleblower led a team of three or four and was the most valuable, helpful member of staff at the Hergest Unit. He was of course also the only person who kept blowing the whistle on the malpractice up there. F noticed that the Hergest whistleblower was treated very disrespectfully by Alun Davies and that although he was a team leader and had a bigger client load than anyone else, the Hergest whistleblower was the only member of staff who didn’t have a phone in his office. So F announced that he would get him a phone. He didn’t tell the whistleblower that he was going to do this, but he did tell me. F then rang BT and told them that he was John Mullen – who was either Chair or Chief Exec of the Trust at the time – and that he wanted to order an extra phone for an office in the Hergest Unit. And BT actually said ‘will this be on the special arrangement Mr Mullen?’ F was not asked to prove who he was, he was not asked anything about an invoice or an account, he was just asked if it was to be on the special arrangement. So F said ‘yes please’ and gave BT the number of the office in the Hergest Unit in which the whistleblower worked. There were literally no questions asked at all, BT cheerily stated that they would be installing the phone asap. F then rang the receptionist of the Hergest Unit, claiming to be BT and told her that a telephone would soon be arriving for the Hergest whistleblower’s office and when BT arrived please could she show them to the correct office. She was happy to oblige. I didn’t think that this plan would ever work, but it was really incredible because about a week later, there was a newly installed phone in the whistleblower’s office. F asked him about it and the whistleblower said ‘it’s all rather odd, I didn’t ask for a phone, Alun Davies told me that I wouldn’t be getting one, but it just arrived’.

So as Brown pointed out, there was obviously an irregular corrupt arrangement between that Trust and BT. Where had the bill for the installation of the phone been sent? Where was the bill for the use of the phone being sent? What on earth was the ‘special arrangement’? How the bloody hell could a patient make one phone call to BT’s marketing dept, claiming to be John Mullen and order a phone? Brown speculated that people in that Trust were installing home phones for themselves and charging them to the NHS and suggested that F could probably have ordered a car for the Hergest whistleblower as well and had that on a special arrangement.

Would John Mullen and Alun Davies care to enlighten us all regarding the ‘special arrangement’? This was happening during the John Major NHS efficiency years, circa 1995. About the time of the Jillings Report and all those assurances from the Welsh Office that there was nothing at all untoward happening in the public services in north Wales. Ooh and about the time that Dafydd was allowed to retire without all the very serious complaints about him being followed up and with the contract for providing ‘substance abuse services’ in his greedy clutches (see post ‘The Evolution Of a Drugs Baron?’).

F’s problems with the North Wales Police were a regular occurrence as well. At one point for a short while, he moved to Holyhead. His house was burgled and he called the police. An officer arrived who then threatened F. F told the officer that he would complain to a senior officer about this – so the police were forewarned. F arrived at the police station shortly afterwards and explained to the desk sergeant that he wished to make a complaint. The desk sergeant tried to obstruct him, so F asked to see the Inspector. The desk sergeant disappeared into the depths and F heard him swearing away at the Inspector waxing lyrical about what a pain F was. F heard the Inspector ask ‘but is he intelligent?’. The sergeant replied ‘yes’. F was entertained to find that the Inspector then appeared wearing a pair of half moons, presumably with the intention of impressing upon F that he was a scholarly intellectual man, rather than a corrupt old bastard whose officers threatened burglary victims. F’s complaint went uninvestigated. The half moons became a joke, because of course Dafydd and many of the other clapped out old fools with whom we all had to deal sported half moons. I have been told that in criminology, this sort of thing is known as a ‘signifier’ – conmen use such techniques, for example brass plaques outside the buildings of people masquerading as professionals when they are not. But in north Wales it was half moons.

Readers might think that although mental health professionals and others in north Wales were told hair-raising stories by F, this was a man who did suffer from a psychotic illness and perhaps those professionals genuinely didn’t believe the stories that F recounted. After all, Dafydd et al were writing down that F had ‘cannabis psychosis’, they certainly weren’t recording what had actually happened to him at their hands or anyone else’s, although he was telling everyone very clearly. It would be understandable to conclude that in the face of wrongdoing this dreadful, it could be difficult to believe a patient with serious mental health problems. But as I keep mentioning, there are some old lags in north Wales who’ve cluttered up the place for decades and they witnessed much of this, although every time there’s an investigation it’s a case of ‘I Know Nuzzing’. That is why I’ve started naming people on this blog.

Now there is one social worker in north Wales who has spent the last twenty years working in community work/probation work/alcohol and substance abuse services/social work training who most definitely knows the names of many of the sinners and knows about the sins that they committed – and many, many years ago he knew F. Step forward Wulf Livingstone, Senior Lecturer in Social Work at Glyndwr University.

Wulf Livingstone certainly knows me from my time working in the School of Social Sciences at Bangor University, but I doubt that he remembers the first time that he met me. It was in about 1993 and I was in a café in Bangor with F. Livingstone breezed through and F cheerily greeted him, only to be patronised by Wulf and spoken to like a loony. That was because Wulf was moving away from being a ‘service user’ himself into one who provides the services. After Wulf had gone, F explained that he knew Wulf from his drug taking days and that Wulf had ‘worked as a cook for that bastard Tindall and sued him’. Tindall was a notorious Bangor ‘businessman’ who owned and ran a number of absolutely dreadful ‘care homes’ for mental health patients – they were bad even by north Wales standards and were eventually forcibly shut down, amid rumours of Tindall being investigated by the police and being forced to surrender his passport. One of Tindall’s ‘homes’ seemed to almost solely house patients of Dr Dafydd Alun Jones. The sorts of things that went on in Tindall’s ‘homes’ were gross – elderly patients thrown back onto beds if they fell out at night, homes for EMI patients had no incontinence pads or gloves available, all health and safety considerations were ignored, chipped and cracked crockery was standard practice, furniture was purchased from junk shops, patients were fed inadequate quantities of the cheapest food available, staff were employed who had been dismissed from everywhere else, it was truly dire. Because there was a shortage of jobs in north Wales, a lot of people took jobs with Tindall’s establishments and left again within a couple of weeks – there were numerous allegations of Tindall not paying people. Wulf’s name was being bandied around Bangor as someone who had been swindled by Tindall and who had challenged him in court. That was how I first heard of and met Wulf.

Years later, when I started in the School of Social Sciences, I was gobsmacked to find Wulf working there – he was introduced to me as a social work lecturer ‘with an interest in mental health’. He didn’t seem too overjoyed to see me – I very much doubt that he ever remembered meeting me that day in the café with F, so I wondered if he was part of the contingent that had begun squirming with embarrassment because I’d turned up at the University with decades of knowledge of how patients were actually being treated in the ‘services’ that these folk were associated with. By then, Brown and I had also started appearing in the laypress making very critical noises about the mental health services in north Wales. A couple of days later I saw Wulf again at lunchtime, so I thought that I’d try to be sociable and I went over to say hello. I told him that he probably wouldn’t remember me but years ago I remembered him making a name for himself by taking on Tindall in court. I told him that it was good to know that someone had challenged Tindall. But Wulf’s reaction was quite interesting – he very obviously didn’t want to talk about that and he just said ‘yeh, right, yeh, nasty man’. So I made a few comments about the vile abuse of patients that had been going on and that I was very glad to see Tindall put out of business. I then mentioned that another chain of care homes equally as abusive as Tindall’s had started up, Prestwood Homes and I wondered if Prestwood was actually anything to do with Tindall. Wulf then announced ‘yeh, yeh, I know all about Prestwwod too. Still, we don’t want to go back to Denbigh do we’ and got up and walked off. Which apart from being bizarre and rude was unfathomable, because the likes of Tindall and Prestwood were abusing patients being released from psychiatric hospitals in exactly the same way that Holyrood House abused patients released from Denbigh.

Over the next few months I began to suspect that I knew why Wulf might have a problem with me. I discovered that since that day in the café, he had actually worked for many of the utterly shite organisations jammed full of abusive or corrupt people – but unlike Brown and me he wasn’t going public about any of it. And he knew that I knew what was going on and that I had intentions of publishing. Furthermore Wulf liked to portray himself as a radical service users champion – so I don’t think he really would have wanted anyone to know what he was keeping quiet about. Wulf had of course worked for CAIS – Dafydd’s set up. Unlike the stooges employed by Hergest as ‘service user representatives’, Wulf is not gullible and naïve, he is a very competent social scientist and he knows abuse and malpractice when he sees it. And from what I know of his CV, he has seen much of it. He was involved with CAIS for years and he also worked for the probation service in north Wales – the probation service that employed some of the people who had been accused of child abuse, the probation service that was warehousing the scores of people who had been fitted up in the way that so many people like F and indeed myself were.

Wulf definitely knows all about another man as well, who like so many of us experienced the worst of the ‘services’. This man was a friend of F years ago and experienced alcohol and drug problems himself for many years. He tried AA and walked out because he found an associate of Dafydd Alun Jones there – a man who masqueraded as a Minister and used to appear wearing his dog collar on TV and calling himself ‘Rev’ along with Dafydd, discussing how people could be weaned off drugs and drink. This friend of F’s brought a lot of grief upon himself by exposing this fake Minister. This man has also done much to challenge another bunch of quacks in north Wales claiming to offer ‘services’ to people with substance abuse and alcohol problems, a group based on Anglesey called AGRO. I do not know one person who has benefitted from AGRO, everybody has described it as a con. There is no confidentiality at all, another friend who was ‘referred’ to AGRO by the Arfon Community Mental Health Team received e mails openly cc’d to dozens of other ‘service users’ with their names and e mail addresses visible to all. On one occasion this friend received an e mail from AGRO asking him to send money urgently because the organiser of AGRO had been robbed whilst on holiday in the Philippines and needed money to get back home – whether this was the organiser of AGRO trying a rather transparent scam or whether his e mail had been hacked I do not know, but AGRO is very obviously not an organisation which is going to assist people with drink or drug problems. AGRO is of course in receipt of funding from numerous sources. How do I know that Wulf knows all about F’s friend’s experiences with AA, Dafydd, the fake Minister and AGRO? Because a couple of years ago I bumped into him and he told me that he was having another go at detoxing – and that his mentor was a man called Wulf Livingstone.

So Wulf has been a ‘service user’ himself, he knows other ‘service users’ very well and he knows exactly how bad and abusive the ‘services’ are – the services that he now works for! Just before I left north Wales I was given the name of a CAIS worker who it was alleged was a major drug dealer in Gwynedd. I was told that she and Wulf were in discussion regarding plans to set up a business together offering probation ‘services’ – the probation service is undergoing a sort of privatisation process and from what I understand many probation officers are now forming businesses in order to contract out their services to the probation service. I also notice that the online blurb available about Wulf describes him as providing ‘social work supervision’ for several teams and that he is also involved with the British Association for Social Work Cymru. It also states that Wulf is part of the ‘growing north Wales recovery movement’. There is no ‘recovery movement’ in north Wales, it is another illusion like ‘service user involvement’, organised by the same abusive colluding people who have spent years colluding with all the other malpractice. Wulf will of course know all about the appalling practices of the likes of the Arfon Community Mental Health Team. He has a particular interest in alcohol and substance abuse – so he will know that the Hergest Unit refuses to assist anyone at all with alcohol or substance abuse problems and that there has been a number of deaths of such patients hours after they have been turned away from the Hergest Unit.

So what’s keeping you so quiet about the rampant wrongdoing, misconduct and abuse of vulnerable people in north Wales then Wulf?