Arresting Gadd? I'm sure the Met are just giving the Grandmasters a false sense of security...
Hmmm.
Tried not to get too down hearted about it. He's such an easy target. The sort of common or garden paedophile that took up the lower levels. They were looked down on by most ranks. This meant they were exploited, bullied, blackmailed, humiliated and abused to an extent I found it hard not to feel sorry for them. I argued about it with a friend in the mid eighties, she hated them all equally. I felt that at least the ones that had sex with kids because they found it irresistible tended to talk to you more and were more likely to be a bit nicer to you. The other ones, people with more clean cut, family man, respectable type public roles had to take drugs, watch films and be raped themselves to have sex with a child. It was a means to an end. Many rings had ideologies built on some sort of belief that by going against every social and humanistic instincts a human had brought about liberation and would eventually make the whole society free. They had a lust for an absolute power over people and learnt to get off on sexual abuse, humiliation, physical trauma and murder. Their faces plastered all over the media causes me a lot more problems than bloody Gary Glitter and Freddy Starr. Their sort was never seen as having much occult powers.
Savile, at times anyway seemed to straddle the lot of them. I was some sort of favourite of his, the sort of domination that is designed to last a life time. I'm having a sense that there was one before me who was murdered. I was taken all over with him and for him and introduced of loads of people he knew. I witnessed him rape adults too when no one else was around. That didn't come as easy to him outside the cult he had to get into some sort of zone before hand. It was always part of a plan to reinforce his power and influence with the Masonic cults, to silence someone or influence the direction of the rituals. He talked some scary shit.
Nightmare dreaming last night. Related to the memory from just after the move to the Glen, that makes me about four. We were in the kitchen, the stove was lit and it was warm. My parents were happy, they had either just started or were about to start university and were glowing with it. They are the first of their families to go. We were all happy and were excited and hopeful about rural life. Savile strides in. At least I think it was him. It was a face from the telly anyway who was exuberant, loud and drew attention to himself, he was talking about what a powerful man he was. He had about 7/8 other men with him, mostly in suits I think. Smartly dressed while the main man was brightly dressed, like a telly star. For a split second I was thrilled because a shiny famous person was in the house. Then I remembered who he was, how I knew him. Memory stops there but it was a long time before we felt so happy together again, if at all.
One of the images from the dream I'm really left with is of opening a letter from the Criminal Injuries Compensation people. I pretty sure I wrote Savile down as a rapist when I applied. The letter had a photo and a written request asking me what I knew about the objects in a photograph. The picture was of things that looked a bit like ball gags. Four or two long thin straps but the objects where the ball would be were different. They were coloured and shaped, kind of funking looking I guess. I didn't look long, they seemed child seized.
Tried not to get too down hearted about it. He's such an easy target. The sort of common or garden paedophile that took up the lower levels. They were looked down on by most ranks. This meant they were exploited, bullied, blackmailed, humiliated and abused to an extent I found it hard not to feel sorry for them. I argued about it with a friend in the mid eighties, she hated them all equally. I felt that at least the ones that had sex with kids because they found it irresistible tended to talk to you more and were more likely to be a bit nicer to you. The other ones, people with more clean cut, family man, respectable type public roles had to take drugs, watch films and be raped themselves to have sex with a child. It was a means to an end. Many rings had ideologies built on some sort of belief that by going against every social and humanistic instincts a human had brought about liberation and would eventually make the whole society free. They had a lust for an absolute power over people and learnt to get off on sexual abuse, humiliation, physical trauma and murder. Their faces plastered all over the media causes me a lot more problems than bloody Gary Glitter and Freddy Starr. Their sort was never seen as having much occult powers.
Savile, at times anyway seemed to straddle the lot of them. I was some sort of favourite of his, the sort of domination that is designed to last a life time. I'm having a sense that there was one before me who was murdered. I was taken all over with him and for him and introduced of loads of people he knew. I witnessed him rape adults too when no one else was around. That didn't come as easy to him outside the cult he had to get into some sort of zone before hand. It was always part of a plan to reinforce his power and influence with the Masonic cults, to silence someone or influence the direction of the rituals. He talked some scary shit.
Nightmare dreaming last night. Related to the memory from just after the move to the Glen, that makes me about four. We were in the kitchen, the stove was lit and it was warm. My parents were happy, they had either just started or were about to start university and were glowing with it. They are the first of their families to go. We were all happy and were excited and hopeful about rural life. Savile strides in. At least I think it was him. It was a face from the telly anyway who was exuberant, loud and drew attention to himself, he was talking about what a powerful man he was. He had about 7/8 other men with him, mostly in suits I think. Smartly dressed while the main man was brightly dressed, like a telly star. For a split second I was thrilled because a shiny famous person was in the house. Then I remembered who he was, how I knew him. Memory stops there but it was a long time before we felt so happy together again, if at all.
One of the images from the dream I'm really left with is of opening a letter from the Criminal Injuries Compensation people. I pretty sure I wrote Savile down as a rapist when I applied. The letter had a photo and a written request asking me what I knew about the objects in a photograph. The picture was of things that looked a bit like ball gags. Four or two long thin straps but the objects where the ball would be were different. They were coloured and shaped, kind of funking looking I guess. I didn't look long, they seemed child seized.
