Diary Blog, 10 January 2022, with more reminiscences about early contemporaries

Morning music

On this day a year ago

If I say so myself, another blog post that has worn very well indeed.

From 2019

I see that the blog post about the Jew-Zionists plotting in the Labour Party, below, from almost three years ago, has had a few hits. Having just reread it, I think that it, also, has stood the test of time rather well: https://ianrobertmillard.org/2019/07/11/9853/.

Tweets seen (including a few older ones)

I have still not worked out why almost all Jews, at least on Twitter, are fanatically pro-lockdowns, the “vaccines”, and pro the facemask nonsense (almost all facemasks are useless, as can be seen easily in cold temperatures, where the vapour is seen escaping as people breathe; “Covid” is water-borne…).

No doubt the Jews concerned would claim that they hold those views because they are terribly intelligent and/or educated, but my experience of them as a group leads me to think not…

A puzzle.

Basically, a billion pounds a year wasted on a horde of uninvited, useless, often hostile interlopers and invaders. While British people freeze in doorways, sleep in cars, and otherwise struggle.

The “refugees welcome” dimwits, and moneygrubbing cheats such as expenses fraudster “lord” Dubs (a Jew who entered the UK just before WW2). should be placed before a people’s court.

More music

1939. Bette Davis looked very different when I saw her close-up in the flesh, about 47 years later.

“Call no man happy until he is dead”

Nearly 4 years ago, I posted a blog article with the above title. In it, I examined, inter alia and I hope humorously, the post-school life-courses of a few people I knew as a teenager. https://ianrobertmillard.org/2018/07/02/call-no-man-happy-until-he-is-dead/

Now, the fates of a few other people I knew, but this time I knew them between the ages of 5-10. Of the three people noted, two are already dead, despite having been my contemporaries. A reminder that we must all do what we can for the race and the world during our short incarnations.

The first is Dominic Beer, who when I knew him, aged 5-7, was a small child of a like age, who lived across a wide road from my own home in Caversham Heights, now and even then a suburb of Reading, situated on high ground across the Thames, a few miles from the town itself and on the border of Oxfordshire.[https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caversham_Heights].

Dominic was a dark-haired, quick-witted, clever child, quite friendly, who seemed older than his years. As I recall, his mother was smallish and dark-haired too; I do not recall his father (maybe I never saw him), though I vaguely recall that Dominic had a (younger?) sister.

Not sure why, but I got the impression when visiting his home, if I recall aright (this was around 1961-62, i.e. 60 years ago), that there was something different, perhaps foreign, about Dominic and his family. I now know that Beer can be German or Jewish, but I would not have known that then.

I knew no Jews, and the only German I had ever encountered, outside the realms of comic books and war films on black and white TV, or watching my All Our Yesterdays [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_Our_Yesterdays_(TV_series)] with my grandparents (my grandfather having been both at Dunkirk and in Burma during WW2), was my mother’s German part-time au pair, Ilka, a kind, bespectacled girl of about 18, who really worked for (and lived with) another family in the neighbourhood, but with whom she did not get on well; Ilka therefore split her time.

I still remember that, when she returned to Germany, Ilka gave my brothers and me little wash-bags with items such as coloured soap in the shape of a puppy-dog. Very German, I suppose. A nice girl. She must be, if still alive, about 78 now.

Be that as it may, I lost touch with Dominic Beer (despite the physical proximity of our homes) after his parents moved him from Caversham Primary School (a couple of miles away) to a private prep school called Hemdean House (not very far, maybe a half-mile, from our homes). I think that, before that, when still aged about 5, we had shared, with a couple of other children, rides to and from school in an ancient green car known as “Mr. Shute’s taxi”. Old Mr. Shute had a garage (I think no fuel, and mainly repairs done) some distance away, but still within the area.

Dominic apparently went on to the well-known school, Leighton Park, a Quaker establishment in Reading, the alumni of which have included Michael Foot (one-time Labour Party leader), Richard Rodney Bennett (composer), David Lean (film director), and Nathaniel Parker (actor), among many others.

Whatever his origins, Dominic was apparently “converted” to active Christianity while a student [Wadham, Oxford]. I saw this:

Dominic went to Wadham College, Oxford in 1975 to study German and History, but even then was considering medicine. Discovering that having no science A-levels did not necessarily disbar him, he started 1st MB at Guys in 1978, and graduated in 1984. He developed an interest in psychiatry and began a training rotation at Guys, interrupting this with Wellcome Foundation support to gain his MD in the history of psychiatry.

In 1994 he was appointed consultant at Bexley Hospital, Kent, for a locked 15-bedded ‘challenging behaviour’ ward, and shocked by the lack of purpose and definition, the bad conditions, and the siege mentality, he and colleagues researched psychiatric intensive care units nationally. This led to founding the National Association of Psychiatric Intensive Care and Low Secure Units (NAPICU) and to co-editing the first textbook in the field, Psychiatric Intensive Care.

As his career progressed until early retirement on medical grounds in 2011, he held many teaching, lecturing and examining posts within London University; published some 70 research papers; refereed for journals; took on more management and fund-raising responsibilities; and was recognised as a leader who modelled his concern that patients requiring psychiatric intensive care should be treated in ‘a decent and concerned way’. That same colleague described his light touch in tricky situations (‘extraordinary legerdemain’), his calming presence, and his being always unflappable. They still ask sometimes ‘What would Dominic do?’ “[See also: https://www.cmf.org.uk/resources/publications/content/?context=article&id=26079].

So when, in the mid/late 1970s, I was struggling with political matters and theory, while also working in low-level occupations, or travelling and having misadventures in places like Rhodesia, Dominic was a medical student. Was my life “the road less travelled”?

I saw this, too:

Dr Dominic Beer was a consultant psychiatrist with Oxleas Mental Health Trust for many years. He was a PICU and challenging behaviour expert but also a cricketer, historian, artist and family man. He died in April 2013 from cancer and is survived by his loving wife and four children, parents, sister, friends, innumerable clinicians and patients whose lives he touched with his counsel and wisdom.” [http://www.beerharrismemorialtrust.org/dominic.htm].

Dominic Beer was also, in later life, a noted painter.

Dominic died, it seems, in 2013, from cancer.

[Addendum, 18 January 2022: just saw this Daily Telegraph obit., but it is behind a paywall, and I refuse to pay, so have not read it: https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/10186242/Dominic-Beer.html].

Another child I knew up to the age of 9 or 10 was one Michael Streather, who was like a 50-year old professor at the age of 8! He later attended Christ’s Hospital and then, after degrees at Bristol, York, and City University in London, became another one involved with mental health, though as strategic analyst of health services, his last title being “Head of Intelligence (Mental Health)”, based at Cambridge, where it seems that he was also an active member of the Labour Party:

I am pretty sure that he is the one wearing sunglasses in the above tweet photos.

Michael Streather died, it seems, in 2019, at age 62 or so.

A third contemporary, Mark Burgess, is still living, and thriving; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_Burgess_(children%27s_author).

Like Michael Streather, a Christ’s Hospital scholar, and another child who always struck me as middle-aged despite being only 8 or so. I remember him as someone who had a serious problem with his legs (he used crutches) at age (?) 7 or 8. A serious child, by my recollection.

His Wikipedia entry does not, oddly, mention either the crutches or his home in Caversham Heights from when he was aged 7 or 8 until at least the age of 14 (in 1970, when I last met him at his parents’ large but seemingly slightly gloomy —just an impression from long ago— house, walking distance from my own, after my family returned from Australia).

It seems that Mark Burgess has written and illustrated 30 books and illustrated nearly 40 others as well. Quite an achievement.

Interesting, to track people through life.

More music

Late tweets

I have read, over decades, enormous quantities from Americans about how their supposed Constitutional right to bear arms guarantees their liberty etc. How is that working out? Not well, I think. As Hitler said, “it’s not the weapon, it’s the man behind it [that matters].”

The spirit of Ned Kelly needs to rise up again…

I was blogging about this only yesterday.

Another (((one))), methinks…

As I have been blogging for a while, the transnational conspiracy has exactly such tactics in mind. The “Covid” “panicdemic” is one way of introducing a global or at least “Western” police state, but there are other ways too, the fear of “terrorism” being one. The whole “climate change” narrative, too.

I blogged about the present Pope (actually, an “antipope”) a while ago, and about how, inter alia, the Jesuit Order has finally conquered the Papacy: https://ianrobertmillard.org/2021/11/07/diary-blog-7-november-2021/.

[Papal coat of arms of Pope Francis, showing the Jesuit coat of arms dominating centrally]

Late music

C o a Clemens IV.svg

10 thoughts on “Diary Blog, 10 January 2022, with more reminiscences about early contemporaries”

  1. Something good for a change! From beautiful and sunny Queensland, Australia. The brave owner of a bar refuses to be intimidated by three police officers who God’s know why the hell did go into his shop. The nicest part of the video (the sound is awful, sorry about that) is when the people rally around the coffee shop owner and start chanting “Leave the place now!”The three goons had to leave… (LOL)

    The video is too long and the sound is very bad. The best parts are around 5.00 and 16.00-18.00 when the policemen leave the place.

    Like

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