The bottom line of this perhaps rather long narrative, is not, as I initially started out as a perhaps green, green badge cab driver, who did not move to the valley of Diesel “Ilford” with the obligatory new cab, wife, mortgage and two kids.

No one more surprised than I at the realisation of what has materialised, a first hand description humiliation and deprivation of the British working class from the 1930's.

This erosion brought about entirely by deliberate policy of successive governments.. and the ten draconian years of Tony Blair who deliberately, for whatever reason, encouraged the influx of irrepresible waves of the World's disenchanted onto these shores, by doing so, creating a powerful, intimidating, devisive weapon against the indigenous labouring masses and a hard core of … crime, poverty and unemployment… the triple iron fist of all governments,plus Enron, 9/11, Afghan conflict over oil, Kosovo all emphatically used by Blair; any outcry was by "politically incorrect racists" as Dr David Kelly was to find to the cost of his life.

The differential between rich and poor, is greater now, than during the Middle Ages.

"Blessed are the Poor"... Money and Sex... either wat round

There is a big gap left in this narrative between the last paragraph and what was to transpire. No apologies, pressed for both time and money ..so many things I still wish to do in a receding scale. Maybe, maybe shall live on long enough, allowed to go back and fill the spaces in, maybe Society will pay for me in some way to do just this.. a couple of pleasant thoughts.

Money had never been of any real consequence, never a serious consideration, poverty firmly engrained, established, something brought up to accept unquestioningly, to be poor.. to let the Rich and Mighty flaunt and postulate freely and quite blatantly before us.

My grandfather found sixpence on the pavement (price of a jug of beer) he carefully placed it on a window sill, saying the person who lost it will surely come back looking for it.. worked hard and diligently all his life. Always remember the photo of him.. a Hussar, his horse, his incredible uniform, lance in his hand.. proud….died with bollocks, a broken man.

There is no apparent, immediate answer to the well know equation. "Two percent of the population control ninety eight percent of the wealth". Only a revolution of such proportions could conceivably overcome this strange disparity, but the Powerful, who are only able to speak in Billions, are ready and waiting, the arms race, still on, but with a different emphasis, each passing day making greater preparation for any internal eventuality, the slightest threat to their stranglehold on Society, surreptitiously, slowly, carving up this Country amongst themselves, selling what belongs to the people. ..."Privatisation" ..the polite word. Maybe it is not too late for my friends in Bucharest to read the writing on their walls.


In the meantime, it is back to "Blessed are the Poor.." Cynthia went crazy when I jibed this at her.. shouting back "Blessed are the poor in spirit!!!".. a real mug is Cynthia and I told her so without any compunction .. Watched the penny drop, watched the expression dawn on her face, that maybe she too had swallowed that particular piece of insidious subterfuge. Nevertheless, still Crosses herself when she walks past the Church..(providing it is open) never said anything more to me about my venturing in with her... so much as she may have liked, now feel she is changing. Maybe, just maybe, Peter is not quite wrong ..that he does have a point, he has been through the complete spectrum and back, has the 'T' shirt to prove it.

My philosophy established, spread out through these pages. Only two aspects to this existence.. the double driving force... Money and Sex.. either way round..
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