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.

Friday, 4th; September. 1998. 9.a.m

Bucuresti
Athenaeum.

Friday, 4th; September. 1998. 9.a.m.

Wet…cold.

It has been a very long time ..I waiting to sit down here and start the second book to something which has become, perhaps, a saga in my existence, determined this will not take me another twenty five years, quite obviously time will not permit this. Time, “the” factor .. a gamble, a calculated gamble on how much time I actually do have remaining, this overriding my quite frequent wish it would end immediately… abruptly.
There have been some interesting moments which I considered appropriate for leaving this Planet, besides those when the going became tough.

To this moment, no publisher has rushed forward throwing hard currency at me for the rights . Not exactly a commercial proposition, no “ Love and Romance “ …the one exception.. no living “Happily ever After”. Politics creeping slowly onto the pages, initially my being unaware of this, the book deciding to write itself after about the first ten years, people looking at me as if a candidate for the funny farm when mentioning this, words coming out of my head which I know not the meaning of, having to look them up in the dictionary.. there has also been a touch of disbelief of content for the people who read it.

Without exception, other than for my sister and brother in law, who only managed to struggle through the first couple of pages.. and they not exactly hard, those who pick it up do not put it down.. always reminding me of people downing a pint.
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