Monday, January 28, 2013

Celebrating Spring (and the fine traditions of the Guardian)

I know we’re in the thick of winter at the moment, but some of us have already started looking forward to spring. Summer solstice falls on 25 April. It is the day when the sun turns and the days get longer.  In certain quarters it is also known as “Alice Day”.

“Alice Day”, 25 April, is the day which paedophiles have dedicated to an annual celebration of their desire to molest little girls. Many wear a pink bow or special jewellery on that day, or light pink candles to put on their window sills, as well as making a special effort celebrate by abusing a little girl. But fear not if your liking is for little boys. There is also “International Boy Love Day” on the day of the winter solstice, 22 December. Similar rituals rituals apply, only this time with blue bows, blue candles and little boys as paraphenalia. In this way, paedophiles show eachother, and the world, that they are proud, defiant and unafraid.

And they have good reason to be, because paedophiles have friends in high places. They ARE in high places. You know those ridiculously short sentences handed to child sexual abusers? The fact that only around 10% (NCPCC figures 2010/11) of reported cases end up in a conviction? The suble and not so suble talk of lowering the age of concent to 14 years old? The change in the sentencing guidelines, looming this year, sold as a tightening of the laws on CSA, but which will in fact make sexual abuse of 13 year olds more likely to result only in a community sentence? “Less serious” cases of pornography involving children which will now only carry a community sentence? I could go on. We could be looking at an extremely long series of related coincidences. More likely, it’s the result of a long term, carefully planned and very successful infiltration of paedophiles into positions of power.

The name “Alice Day”, previously know as “Paedophile Pride Day” , was inspired by the book “Alice in Wonderland” by Lewis Carrol. The “Alice” figure was again inspired by a little girl called Alice Liddell who was, according to our friends at the Guardian, Carrol’s “muse and great passion”. I mention the Guardian, because it was during a search for information about “Alice Day” that I stumbled across this article.

It’s a few years old, but in light of recent paedophile appologist behaviour by Guardian journalist Jon Henley,
I though the older article deserved to be dusted off. Highlight the fine tradition and “dog with a bone” dedication of the Guardian to the cause, so to speak;

Just good friends?
Was there something sinister about Lewis Carroll's fixation with seven-year-old Alice Liddell? Not necessarily, says Katie Roiphe

The Guardian, Monday 29 October 2001

It is true that the Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, otherwise known as Lewis Carroll, author of the inimitable classics Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass, liked little girls. Or, as he once wrote: "I am fond of children (except boys)." He took exquisite, melancholy photographs of little girls. He befriended little girls on trains, and beaches, and in the houses of friends. And one particular little girl, Alice Liddell, came to be his muse and great passion.

Unfortunately for Dodgson, the 21st century does not look kindly on a single man who is beguiled by seven-year-olds. Feminist critics have darkly suggested that Dodgson was a paedophile. They have condemned the beautiful photographs he took and objected to his objectification of the immature female body, and read all sorts of rapacious nonsense into the Alice books. At the other extreme, many of Dodgson's defenders have protested too much. They have attempted to argue that he was utterly without feelings for little girls. One of his early biographers wrote, "There is no evidence that he felt or inspired any pangs of tender passion", when of course there was an abundance of evidence that he did. His defenders tend to portray him as a shy, stuttering bachelor with a fondness for children that may as well have been a fondness for stamps or porcelain puppies.

Is it possible that neither view of him is correct - that he was neither the child molester nor the pure, white-haired reverend? It is possible that our crude categories, our black and white views of romantic feeling, cannot contain someone like Dodgson. It is almost impossible for us to contemplate a man who falls in love with little girls without wanting to put him in prison. The subtleties, for those of us still mired in the paranoias of the 20th century, are hard to grasp. When one thinks of a paedophile, one thinks of a lustful, over-the-top, drooling Nabokovian love, but that is not Lewis Carroll. His love was more delicate and tortured and elusive; his warmth, his strange, terrified passion, more intricate and complicated than anything encompassed by a single word.

Dodgson's affection for what he called his "child friends" was always mingled with a vague yearning. He wrote to one 10-year-old girl, "Extra thanks and kisses for the lock of hair. I have kissed it several times - for want of having you to kiss, you know, even hair is better than nothing." This is typical of his correspondence. He converted whatever his feelings were into the whimsical, quasi-romantic banter that eventually made its way into the Alice books. He wrote to one mother of a potential visit with her daughter, "And would it be de rigueur that there should be a third to dinner? Tête à tête is so much the nicest." There was a romantic intensity to the friendships that Dodgson struck up with children, a hint of hunger, of never quite getting enough. This was especially true of his relationship with Alice. There was always a sense that he wanted more of her. And yet, can we really blame him for that - as long as he didn't act on his feelings? If he turned himself inside out, turned the world inside out with his powerful imagination, in order to avoid them?

For the rest of the article, follow this link:

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy,

victim, survivor, warrior, fighter. 

So many names to choose from. Usually I don't like any of them, but I haven't been able to think of any better ones. Except for maybe "person", but that's such a common name.

I share so much with other people who have experienced child sexual abuse. I also feel a bond with people who have experienced rape as adults. Anyone who's been violated, trodden on, taken advantage of and ignored are welcome on my team. I am quite desperate, in fact, to feel a sense of common purpose (not capitalized!), because I believe it's the only way to effect change. 

I feel limited, ill at ease and tongue-tied though, when searching through the ant heap of humanity for fellowship, by the vocabulary available. Likewise when 
describing my past experiences of abuse or my life today. I feel (but this could be due to paranoia) that I am judged, or could be judged, for describing myself in one way or another. Or perhaps it's me who's doing the judging? Of other people? Of myself? There are words, feelings and states of mind that I am tempted to censor in myself, and in others. I'm not proud of that and I think I should stop it. I think everyone should stop it.

I could say that nobody likes to be pigeonholed, but that might not be true. I think some people feel comfortable with the label victim. Others see themselves as survivors. Others again are warriors first, or fighters. Some like to talk about "the road to healing" whilst others just want to get mad and even. Many are a mixture of some or all of those, or change between them depending on the time of day and the day of the week. Many resist all labels and want to be defined by who they are and what they've done, not by what has been done to them.

What I want to say to myself (because this is a talking to) and others (who are perfectly entitled to ignore what I say) is that it's OK. We've all earned the right to feel, say and think what we please, and to call ourselves what we like.

I'll use those words; victim, survivor, warrior, fighter, to find and connect with the people I want to be connected with. 

For myself, there are days when I'm 100% victim. And other days when I'm 200% fighter. But mostly I'm a person who is fucked up, pissed off but fairly optimistic about the chances that the rest of my life is going to be better, and that one day, I'm going to experience something that feels like real peace. 

Whatever you call yourself, if you want to make a change, I want to know you.

Monday, January 21, 2013

There is someone you should know about

This is a lady whose blog and tweets I follow, and I'd hate for anyone to miss out. Her writing has changed my perceptions of what I thought was possible, both in terms of evil and in terms of the strength of the human spirit. Her bravery does a very good job of reducing all my own excuses for not taking action in various areas into a powdery dust.

She's a survivor of satanic ritual abuse and mind control. And Jimmy Savile. She has Multiple Personality Disorder (as you would).

She's a bloody good writer and funny.

@DaffodilRites talks on Twitter and on her blog

JANUARY 20, 2013

keep talking..

So polis the marra, nae bather though, dishes are done, there's notes writtin and I'll run the hover over the hall again later.  There wis a wee bit o fonin back an fore over the time and a hav ti say, shi soonds like shi mite be a wee bit ov a numpty.  I've been wrang aboot folk on tha fone bifore tho.

I've even had a go at Wonder Webbing the curtains that are dragging on the floor in the living room.  Did a good job on the first side, the other is a bit of a disaster, but its all off the ground.

I'm just glad she is coming in the morning straight after dropping of wee man.  Not enough time to get properly stressed about it.  Therapy afterwards, which is really good. I wont be able to curl up into a ball afterwards and mutter stuff or think about smashing a cup and then using a shard to slash my arm, or going to the pub.

Maybe it won't be like that at all, maybe she will come across as professional and non-judgmental, empathetic and respond to me as she finds me and not to information she was given before and isn't up for discussion.  Maybe I will have worked with her years ago on something off the books, maybe she was in another ring from me growing up and we met a few times during bigger meets and she'll look at me like I came in off her son's football boots and smeared myself all over her freshly cleaned cream carpet.

Need to get it across that I'm saying that I was abused by Savile for most if not all of my childhood.  He was a big figure in the ritual abuse I experienced in Scotland.  He also took me to many of the institutions he is publicly associated with where I saw him molest and abuse others and I have contacted those institutions.  Sometimes there was more violent and/or ritualistic group abuse in the lower parts of the buildings.  He also took me to his flats, trailers and although I was sometimes hidden especially if we were getting on buses, boats or planes, I would be taken through the front door sometimes to, during daylight hours and I was seen with him on many occasions by many people.  He introduced me to many of the well known and powerful people he is publicly associated with (gulp).  I wont be making any formal statements alone.  Should I mention recent flashbacks of long walks with him in quiet hospital corridors heading to the morgue.  That I think there was one before me and I watched them kill her? Of course, if we have time and she lets me.

I also want to mention that it hasn't been reassuring that the Yew Tree investigation into Savile as a sexual abuser made no effort to take a full statement from someone who claims to have been abused by him lots or provide any explanation of why they did not want to peruse talking to me further.

I don't mind anyone saying that I am only inventing stuff after reading stuff in the press.  So often I would sit down at the keyboard planning to just let it all flow out.  Names, dates, relationships, the big deals, the murders but nothing would come.  Or plan to do big internet Illumaniti, Satanism, Ritual Abuse, Masons searches and take whatever I found apart, piece by piece, this is sort of true, this is made up and this is why.  I'd feel sick and distraught just looking at Welcome pages and chapter headings and go no further.  I couldn't understand how it could fly around my head so much but refuse to turn into black and white words that other people could see.  All I found myself really wanting to say was 'it hurts'.  But when the names become public things change especially when they are dead and public.  It's all been quite liberating at times.

I've remembered enough to feel absolutely certain I talked about Savile being a constant abusive presence in my life, particularly during childhood to police and/or social workers/Women's Aid workers who said they were in contact with the police in 2004 and 2009.  And fuck knows how many times before.

Friday, January 11, 2013

Existential crisis or stupidity?

I'm a bit lost for words today. Been shouting "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON" and stuff like the over on twitter for a while, and of course, there's a lot to be said for that. Especially since I don't dare to swear in real life, in case people think I'm rude or in case I upset anyone.

Saville investigation. What a great report title "giving victims a voice" or something like that. Except it hasn't. There are still victims who have not been interviewed properly, whose stories are too dangerous. Here's a voice that resonates all the louder, because it doesn't shout. I wonder how many victims didn't come forward because they were in too much pain inside, or dead.

How are we going to get our heads round the idea that really weird, gruesome, twisted stuff actually goes on. Stuff like mass manipulation of the great unwashed, secret societies, ritual abuse, satanism, mind control, child pornography, pedophile rings, children being sexually abused day in day out in every village in the land. How do we accept that these things exist, and continue to go about our daily business? Go shopping. Pick up the kids from school. Talk about the weather. How do we accept that most of what we've been told is only a short, skimpy, full of holes version of the full length truth? Can we do that, and continue to vote, pay taxes and trust the police? Would we bother to watch the news anymore, if we knew for sure that these are the news that have been handpicked for us to watch, because the real news would blow our establishment, our society, our faith in mankind, apart?

The trouble is that once we start digging around, we can't go back to being stupid.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

The Guardian proudly presents "the expert evidence"

I really want to comment on Jon Henley's article in the Guardian, titled "Paedophilia: Bringing dark desires to light". But that means I would have to read the article again first, and I'd much rather roll around in a pile of putrid excrement. So for now, it has to be "hold on Henley", "hello pile of shit".
But wait, it's coming back to me now. Somewhere in the hazy cloud of nausea, disgust and flashbacks that has been following me around since I read the article, there's that word that keeps popping up - "consent". Yes, that what it was about, the article.  "Consent". It's a friendly word. It means everything's OK. No harm done. Consent, in the "child-adult sexual relationship" scenario, goes something like this;
Adult: "hello 8 year old boy/12 year old girl (delete according to preference). Would you like to have sex with me?
Child: Yes kind sir/madam, it would give me great pleasure/no thanks, not today (delete according to preference).
So far, so god. To clarify further I quote the article (OK, I held my nose and read the damn thing again); 
"Childhood sexual experiences, willingly engaged in with an adult," it read, "result in no identifiable damage … The real need is a change in the attitude which assumes that all cases of paedophilia result in lasting damage." As eloquently expressed by the "respectable (and responsible)" (according to Jon Henley) National Council for Civil Liberties now known as Liberty. So, in case you missed it; it's you and me, society, who has ha problem, not the pedophiles. Sorted.

Further down in this "balanced" article, Henley quotes Tom O'Carrol. You know, the pedophile convicted in 2006 of distributing indecent photographs and films, including the rape and torture of six year olds (Henley didn't treat us to that level of detail though.). "It is the quality of the relationship that matters," O'Carroll insists. "If there's no bullying, no coercion, no abuse of power, if the child enters into the relationship voluntarily … the evidence shows there need be no harm."

And there is evidence, you know! Don't think that this is just something that a bunch of paedophiles made up to justified their behaviour! Here goes; 
A Dutch study published in 1987 found that a sample of boys in paedophilic relationships felt positively about them." 

I had a look at said Dutch study. I wondered how they'd identified the boys. In my naivety, I thought it would be interviews with adults about their experiences as boys. But no, the study is based on interviews with 25 boys, some as young as 10 years old, CURRENTLY being abused by paedophiles. The study is called "BOYS ON THEIR CONTACTS WITH MEN: A STUDY OF SEXUALLY EXPRESSED FRIENDSHIPS" by Theo Sandfort. This is what the Guardian refers to as "experts" and "academics".

Here's one of the boys from the Dutch study. Thijs was 10 years and 11 months old when he was interviewed by Sandfort. The "sexually expressed friendship" started when he was 8 years old and living in a children's home. 

First want to ask you how long you have known Joop.

Uh, I don't know--two and a half years, two years, something like that. I don't remember so good any more.

You're almost eleven, aren't you, thus you were around 8 or 9 then, weren't you?Yes.

Can you remember how you first got to know him, how it went?Yes. We were going to play football. I was on my bike and the chain came off and Joop said, "Here, let me put it back on." Well, I could do that myself, but he wanted to do it so I let him. Then he asked, "Would you like to come in?" So I went in and then I started playing football with him more often. And so one day we started doing sex. It happened very quickly. I didn't know anything about sex, but I learned in a hurry. One night I went to the toilet and he started playing with my cock. So we began making out, I mean having sex.

What did you think about that atfirst?
I was sort of shy, but later, when I'd been coming there a week or so, I got used to it.

The first time you had sex, that was right at the beginning, you said, you hadn't known him so very long?
Two or three days only. That was when I was still in the children's home. I came to his place every weekend, and sometimes during the week, too. I'd tell them in the Home that I was going to go outside and play, and then to my mother.

So it was right at the beginning, you said. Can you tell me what happened that first time?
You mean the sex? Well, first he asked me. He said, "If you don't like it you must tell me." And so he started doing it a little with his hand... He did that for a while, for a few days. Because I live close to him-I come over a lot. And finally-I think about a month later--I did it to him, too. And two weeks after that we had complete sex with each other... just about every day. Every day I came. Now I come every day, because I'm back home. Just about every day, but sometimes not.

If you had to say who started the sex that first time, who would it be?Who started sex the first time? He did, of course. I didn't even know what sex was. Okay, I knew what it was but not that.

Even though you'd done it yourself little?No.

How do you like knowing all about it now?I knew all about it when I was ten.

What happens now when you have sex with each other?We just have a little sex, jerk each other off a little, and then we just go to sleep, take a little nap.

Can you say who starts it, when you have sex?Either of us. Sometimes me, yeah, mostly me. But he, too, real often.

Can you tell me how you do it if you want to start?
I come up close to him and say, "I want to tell you something." Well, if anyone knew what that meant... that's what he always thinks. But I don't think anyone's figured that out.

And then you go to the bedroom?
Yes, but a lot of the kids know, so they say, "Oh, no, not that again! Just hurry up and cum!"

Is it different now from that first time you had sex with Joop?
A whole lot. We didn't used to do it together. I didn't know much about him, and now I know just about everything. I didn't used to have much contact with him, but now I do. And that first time wasn't really true sex.

Does anybody know that you have sex with Joop?
Yes, people who come here to the house.

What do those people think about it?
They never mention it.

And your mother?
I can't let her know anything about it. She does know, but I just say it's not true. But I just keep on coming to Joop.

So really you're lying a little to your mother?
Of course. I'm not going to be kept away from Joop.

Why not?
Just because, uh...

What do you think your mother would feel about your having sex with Joop?
I guess she'd think it was dirty. She'd think a man doing that with a child was not normal, that you just shouldn't do it. That's what she'd say.

And how do youfeel about her thinking that way?
Rotten stupid! Although I wouldn't tell her it was rotten stupid. I mean, what business is it of hers? It's my business what I do.

Do some of your friends know about it, too?
Yes, friends from school, they know, because they're always ragging me about it a little. Maybe half the school knows. They talk about "queers" and so on.

They call you queer?
No, I don't let on I know they're gossiping about me. I'm not that stupid, because then I'd really get bad-mouthed.

Those boys probably also find it dirty?
Well, I don't know. Could be, because they wouldn't say it was dirty if they really didn't think it was.

How do youfeel about your having sex with Joop?
It's just really nice.

Its no problem for you?
It's just like a man going to bed with a woman--I think it's exactly the same: nice. And the feelings and so on they have, I have too.

What I would be more interested to see than this heart wrenching handbook of grooming and abuse, is a report interviewing these boys today, 25 years after the abuse, to see whether these "sexually expressed friendships" resulted in "no lasting damage". I somehow doubt whether Theo Sandfort has conducted such a study. He has been busy with more "academic research" of pre-teen boys. He later wrote "Pedophile relationships in the Netherlands: Alternative Lifestyles for Children?" I wonder where he finds all his contacts? Actually, no, I don't.

I could go on looking into the credibility of the Guardian "experts" and "academics" and in many cases, I'm sure, their criminal records. Somehow, I don't think I have the stomach for it. 

I'll leave you with this definition of consent. 
"Consent refers to the provision of approval or agreement, particularly and especially after thoughtful consideration". Then think about whether 8 year old Thijs was capable of that, or whether he was afforded that luxury. 

Link to original Guardian article: Paedophilia: Bringing dark desires to light