Showing posts from November, 2012

Sexual Abuse & History Repeating.

I feel that people need to take a step back from the whole black and white thing when it comes to Satanic & Ritual Abuse.  What we are trying to expose here involves activities so evil that it happened beyond the scope of human memory processing abilities and so insidious that is corrupts everything and everyone it came across.  Feel the anger, express it. Please do not believe that 'justice' can be resolved with quick fixes or long term investigations that bring very little in the way of real consequences for those who gained the most or improved opportunities  for victims to find safety and healing. After all what we are taking about here is people being routinely and expertly forced to do things that were totally against their conscience and everything they held true.  Then to do these under order or suggestion and then out of preference.

I am not saying all pedophiles are victims to, or that there is any circumstances when it is justified.  I just want  people to be m…

Give us time.

'Give us time.' The policewoman had said. I'd been talking about Savile when he was still alive.  We knew nothing would could happen when he was still alive and that I was too ill to give them much in the way of details that can be investigated, that the nature of his offenses and the cover up goes much further than groping girls and people turning a blind eye.  'I've got Savile's porn', Ferris had said in that bar.  I almost spilled my pint.  I guess I should be grateful and amazed that I still respond emotionally to anything and not hate myself for still believing what people say.  During it all, I had to cling to anything resembling hope even if I knew it was bullshit because I needed it to get through, the next day, the next minute, the next year.  Can't seem to turn it of now even though I have a safe home and an child that is with me and isn't being raped.  Where did the belief that deep down most people want to do the right thing come from? …

Old Notes

Looking through notes from 2004 trying to find the names of some of the people I talked to when in refuge.  I knew it was unlikely I would find any, I'm far too well trained to remember or write down peoples' names.  Did find one, written at the back followed by 'CPU' will mention it to the police when I speak to them.  There was a mention of a policeman who 'was good with ritual abuse victims' hmmm.

Also found this poem, I guess it should be called 'All in my mind'

There's a dead baby over there
It might be me
I sing to her and she sings back
But it could all be in my head.
There's a big heavy cross on my back
Everyone's shouting things at me,
In a while I will be lifting that cross above my head
I'm in a lot of pain
But it might be all in my mind.
Their placing bets on who will win
The murdered or the rapist
Neither of us wants to be here
But its probably all in my mind.
I know you,
You've comforted me, I've cuddled you
You s…

Due Process

Haut de la Garenne on the telly again, not for Bergerac
though this time.  On my knees in front of the BBC,
new carpet but and a crawling drooly infant.

I felt my hand still gripped rock hard until I opened it
and saw those bloody broken roots in my small palm,
dark dampness and a violent face.

They didn’t dig up much, just words scrawled in cellar,
a concrete bath, ashes in an improvised fireplace
and lots of teeth. Your not a bad boy.

But you left more in the damp earth, concrete pits, lakes
and spreadsheets we screamed in. Something still burning
when those that ate the evidence are getting promoted

and buying bigger houses. Something permanent
and recoverable in the meticulously crafted torture tools, tarpaulins
and fallacies of ritual abuse: the dark energy of the human sciences.

Definitions: exclude human foot soup or marinating foetuses
minorities and neighbours crushed under crosses
and put through the mincer.

One reason why there are not enough witnesses.

One of those big spinney kicks I think people call them round house.  I came back just as my foot is about to connect. I'm in my 'normal' Scotland clothes; jeans, a Tshirts and the boots that I wore to school.  The men in suits and rich clothes siting around the edges of the room are laughing.  They know I have come round.  They know I was aware, that I had seen what I had just done.  The kid was already injured, bloodied.  I don't know if it was me that did that.  I have the echo of one of their instructive voices in my head but I don't what he said.  The knowledge came like it was supposed to, input processed, assessment reached; fractured skull, broken neck.  This four year cute blond boy wasn't going to scream in agony or have his hopes purposely raised to be destroyed again.  He was nobodies' toy now. 

It was his face that helped a lot to keep me floored during the months and years after.  I just couldn't get passed it. He wasn't scared.  Lik…

Hard Evidence

Pretty hard to prove historic sex abuse, pretty hard to prove sexual abuse that happened 20 minutes ago.  Your word against theirs and abusers have a sixth sense for the vulnerable.  They know people don't want to know, don't want to believe, would rather accept things 'the way they are'.

There was plenty witnesses to many things that happened in Partick from November 2004 to March 2005.  Most of them have criminal records and already have complex relationships with the police.  My mate kept calling me a Brit coz he saw me talking to Blair.  This pissed me off considerably as he had also seen me talking to IRA members.  Not that I think blowing up civilians achieves fuck all but I've spent my live trying to escape the clutches of British institutions. 

There was stuff in the press about me around then I think, I could never see it.  Definitely a few occasions where there was heaps of journos outside the bar.  Couple of locals told them I was a prostitute I said I…