Once again thank you all for your comments and
suggestions, and by the way no Peter Browne, I shall not be taking a long walk
off a short pier in the very near future.
Because the Celtic Illumination blog goes out over so many different
platforms most of you will only see a fraction of the total suggestions and
comments made. And as it goes out on a private
military site many of you will not see the daily torrent of abuse I have to put
up with from the likes of Lort, Clancey and Browne. The main underlying question seems to be why
would the future King of Ireland be involved in, what could considered to be, a
social services based form of cage fighting in the beautiful city of Liverpool? Well; as you all know a double top secret
cabal have ruled my life ever since I was ripped from the arms of my loving
mother, that’s mother number two, and taken away by a battle hardened snatch squad
of Carmelite nuns to be raised and prepared to become the world’s leading Master
Candle Maker, the High Chief of the Clan O Neill and of course the true King of
Ireland.
By the way don’t worry yourselves about the abuse
I get, I know as members of the Illuminati you have all pledged your lives to
support me, and by the way if you didn’t know, you all do now, it was in the
small print. I think the abuse is meant
to toughen me up, for example even last evening in the luxurious comfort of my
own home, I was still facing abuse. My beautiful
daughter Jane was home for a few days and we had a sort of small family get together. Not all my children were there as we only
invited the nice ones. We were watching
the film Philomena, a film very close to my own story, when at the point where
they discover that children were being bought and sold by the nuns for one
thousand pounds each, I asked, ‘I wonder how much they paid for me?’
My wonderful daughter suggested that I was
priceless while my eldest boy, Gerard, suggested that they would probably have
paid one thousand pounds for my sister Carol while I, with the six fingers,
would have been in the reject basket on a, ‘buy one get one free,’ deal. Even
with the size of him he’s never too big to get a thump. So I think we can see why I am subjected to
so much abuse, although we will never know unless the double top secret cabal
reveal themselves, which I doubt they will ever do. So why would they place me in such an environment
in Liverpool. Well; truthfully I think
it is something along the lines of the Wisdom of Solomon. You should all be aware of the story where
Solomon is faced with two women who each claim to have given birth to a baby
and each want to be awarded custody of the child. I shall not tell you the outcome of the story
just in case Russell Crowe is about to make a film about it and I could ruin
the plot for you.
The main question, I was going to say when you
are locked in a room with a naked man wrecking the place, however I shall not,
as the main question then is how do I survive this? For many of the people supported to live in
the community the main question concerns the balance of rights, already highlighted
by one member of the Illuminati, Colonialist.
I would say that without a doubt every single person had the right to
live in their own community but I didn’t think that enough was in place to protect
the rights of those already in the community.
And these questions were raised in so many different environments. Take for example one young lady who was
supported to live in the community, she was a black woman so social services
decided that she should live in Toxteth, an area in Liverpool where the local population
would have been mostly black people. It
wasn’t the environment or locality where she had grown up, before being sent
off to a lunatic asylum, but they felt that because she was black she would fit
in.
Ever since the riots in Toxteth in 1981 the
area had gained a certain reputation for being a little on the rough side. Truthfully it can be quite an intimidating
place with gangs of youths hanging about looking for something to do. We would be trying to support this individual
young lady to live as normal a life as possible, but any time she saw a black
person out on the street she would begin screaming, “Why don’t you fuck off back
to where you belong you black bastard!’
This was not the only statement she would come out with and I often
wondered not just why, but where, she had learned such behaviour. I could only assume she was repeating what had
been said to her. But that was only one
question, or problem, I had with the decision for her to enjoy her equal rights
and live in the community. She was a self-harmer. Again, self-harm is a very interesting area to
learn about, understanding it may not be so easy, but it happens, and therefore
has to be dealt with.
Normally, well; I would think that normally if
any one of you came across a person slicing their fore arms or legs you would immediately
try to stop them. But we were told that as
her self-harm was a personal form of release if we tried to stop her harming herself
we would be guilty of abuse. So we had
to ensure that she had clean razor blades and dressings available and accept
her behaviour as normal. This, I promise
you, is as difficult, if not more difficult, than being locked in a room with a
man suffering so much stress that he can only express himself by trying to
destroy everything within his world, with that sometimes including you yourself. Because it was difficult to find females to work
with this young lady most of her team were male. Although we could ‘handle,‘ it, I don’t think
one of us condoned the practise or enjoyed having to sit through it. There should have been a fully qualified
nurse there and not some fellow who could hopefully talk his way out of starting
another inner city riot, time and time again.
For me it was like being in a Stephen King
movie or book. She would sit there and
draw the blade across her skin while staring you in the eye. I often wondered if she was trying to shock
me or was she looking for this ‘release’ we had been told about. Every time the blade sliced in to her flesh I
prayed that she wouldn’t hit a major artery or decide to have a go at me. When I watch something like The Exorcist I
feel like it was Regan I was sitting opposite with these eyes staring through
me. I do feel that these people needed
specialist care and not people who could, ‘handle,’ it. There were some clever people involved in all
of this and I was quite excited that I was about to meet one of the world
leaders. John O Brien, an American
fellow from America, is a pioneer and leading light in the field of learning
disabilities. John was not just coming
to England but he was coming to Natural Breaks.
I was so looking forward to meeting him.
The people supported were very complex and I
felt that the standard of staff employed was not high enough. It was early days and everyone was still
learning. Natural Breaks had supported
the first two people with learning disabilities to move in to their own home,
from a long term mental asylum. This was
a big step and quite naturally people wanted to boast about their success. The local newspaper the Liverpool Echo
covered the story even offered colour photos of the two men outside their
bungalow on the then relatively new Croxteth estate. It hadn’t crossed anyone’s mind that the
local burglars would be reading the local newspaper, although one month later,
after the house had been burgled and ransacked twice, they decided not to
publicise any more successes.
In fact I was asked to attend an internal
interview for that house as the team wanted me to work with them. It was regarded as the best position within Natural
Breaks, a quiet and pleasant place to work.
Although I was being paid more than your average support staff because I,
along with a handful of others, was at the more extreme end of the scale, this house
was regarded to be a bit of a bonus.
They had plenty of money and a lovely brand new car. At the first staff meeting I was asked if I
would like to take them out on regular drives as they really enjoyed sitting in
the rear of the car watching scenery slide by.
By drives I mean in and around North Welsh Wales and the Lake District. I was back to my rich blond nymphomaniac with
her own pub type job. So as I spent many
a day driving through wonderful mountain scenery, my two passengers in the back
laughed and smiled and relaxed and appeared to be happy. I was happy to have all the time in the world
just to drive and think, what would Solomon do about all this?
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