Tag Archives: High Court

Diary Blog, 5-6 May 2020

Evening forays

Well, I went out two evenings running, early evening. Only to Waitrose, though. On the main road (a rural or semi-rural A-road), some traffic, more than before (again). It is clear that the “lockdown”, put in place by a frightened and indeed panicked government of fools, is fraying at the edges.

Waitrose was slightly busier than yesterday, but on both days no queue to get in, and I have noticed that the black-clad Handmaid’s Tale militia (Waitrose marshals) have slackened off over the weeks. Still there, still going through the motions, but not as officiously as (one or two were) a few weeks ago.

Actually, I do not think that many people have died of Coronavirus in this part of southern England. I have seen two cases reported in the local Press since the scare began. That is in a population of 15,000 locally and, in a town about 12 miles away, another 20,000. Other small population centres as well. I have not been told personally about anyone at all who has even (knowingly) had “the virus”, let alone been hospitalized with it or died from it.

I saw a few idiots wearing what looked like home-made face-masks. Three, in fact. One ancient woman shopping with her husband (sans mask), one thin, brittle and unpleasant-looking woman aged around 60 (that’s youthful around here), and one typical male Guardian-reader, about 40 at a guess, complete with tote-bag. Yes, I am assuming wildly; I blame the “lockdown”…

As for panic buying, that seems to be yesterday’s news. Some types of pasta not available, and the flour shelf looked depleted, but the other most-scooped-up items, such as bleach, loo paper, kitchen roll etc were all in good supply. As for bread, over-supply, with many loaves on sale reduced to as little as 10p. What a difference a month makes.

As a matter of fact, I wonder how many (older) people remember the absurd sugar panic of (?) sometime in the late 1970s. It only lasted a week, had (as far as I can recall) no obvious cause, but had shoppers lining up to buy a dozen bags of sugar at a time. There were even a few scuffles or arguments in the aisles, I think. The “madness of crowds”.

Ah, maybe this [below] was what I had in mind:

https://www.theguardian.com/theguardian/2010/jul/09/archive-rationing-sugar-shortage-looms

1974. Earlier than I thought. Memory, even mine, is fallible. At least I did not “remember” having been gassed (6 times, in one case!), like some “holocaust” fakes!

https://newrepublic.com/article/117764/misha-defonseca-pays-22-million-history-fake-holocaust-memoir

https://www.dw.com/en/artist-rosemarie-koczy-allegedly-faked-her-holocaust-survivors-story/a-41301763

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jun/24/holocaust-survivor-lied-joseph-hirt-auschwitz

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-7933509/Anne-Franks-step-sister-claims-photos-showing-liberation-Auschwitz-FAKE.html

https://www.haaretz.com/israel-news/.premium.MAGAZINE-the-fake-nazi-death-camp-wikipedia-s-longest-hoax-exposed-1.7942233

https://sites.google.com/site/spielbergshoax/

http://holocaustcontroversies.blogspot.com/2010/01/irene-zisblatt-diamond-girl-fact-or.html

https://www.thepoliticalcesspool.org/jamesedwards/irene-zisblatt-yet-another-holocaust-memoir-hoax/

Speaking of the 1940s, I was reading this:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Sargant

“Selected patients for experimental operations with a high risk of death…”? Most of the criticisms of medicine and psychiatry in the Reich (sometimes justified criticisms) could be applied with as much or greater justice to the UK or USA. Fact. But Germany lost the War. Das ist’s…

I was just reading this:

https://www.loknstore.co.uk/articles/do-we-need-to-stockpile-essentials-for-a-hard-brexit/

Not sure that I believe the anecdotes in the first paragraph, but I suppose that I could be wrong.

On the way back to Schloss Millard, called in for a small amount of fuel at the (only) filling station. I saw an unmarked police car, a white Jeep-like vehicle with dark windows, akin to a Hummer (I never would have taken that to be a police vehicle) suddenly roar along the by-then empty main road, blue lights flashing (including a Kojak-style magnetic one on the roof).

What was that all about? A big undercover police operation in the area? A pensioner seen sitting on a clifftop bench, or walking along the pebbly shore, in defiance of “lockdown” “advice”? Maybe a dangerous “neo-Nazi” had been seen in the neighbourhood…In fact, Kojak‘s car light was red, but you get my meaning

After my shopping expedition, I sat down to watch the excellent Reilly, Ace of Spies on the nostalgia channel. I used to have it on DVD and, before that, on video. On this occasion, I was 15 minutes too early, so watched the ending of a marginally amusing “reality” show called Celebrity Dinner Date. What can I say? The “celebrity” (of whom I had never heard and whose name I have already forgotten) turned out to be a simian person of mixed race. He is apparently featured on the “Year of the Sex Olympics” show called Love Island, which I have never seen but understand to be a competition in which various instant “celebrities” have it off with each other somewhere in the tropics or subtropics.

The three girls who entertained the “celebrity” in turn were all English. The Germans have a word for it (as usual): Rassenschande.

Tweets seen

The tweeter, above, has some sense, unlike the woman below:

She wants “full, policed lockdown, with clear orders…” I wonder whether she might be more at home somewhere like China, or North Korea? She has obviously no respect for what we English people used to call “civil rights”…

I was so struck by that tweet (though there are now many like it) and by the apparent fact that this Indian woman is (she claims— I had never heard of her) a regular face or voice on Sky and BBC, that I looked up her Wikipedia entry:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bidisha

Writer and talking head. Here, below, she claims to have been out of her house only three times in nearly two months! No wonder she tweets rubbish.

Looks like “Bidisha” peaked over a decade ago in career terms but is still making a good living (?) in the msm/literary milieu, while arguing for even more immigration into the UK…

https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/features/the-comeback-kid-whatever-happened-to-fiesty-mono-monikered-teenage-author-bidisha-789126.html

https://www.express.co.uk/news/uk/750715/fiery-clash-immigration-integration-debate-sky-news-bidisha-andre-walker

As a matter of fact, “journalists” and other scribblers not only often fail to report the truth, or report untruth, but do not seem even to know it when it should be within the ambit of their own lived experience! Look at the blog post, below, by Anna Blundy, who was, at the end of the 1990s, the Bureau Chief, in Moscow, for the London Times.

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/431674.Anna_Blundy

Ms. Blundy, who was (she says) part-basis for the fictional character Bridget Jones, writes this:

I was born in 1970 and grew up on my own with my mum while dad flew around the world to wars and summits. It was odd in those days, when most people didn’t go abroad, to be watching the news (in black and white) and taking it personally.”

When most people didn’t go abroad“? In (what must have been, at earliest) the late 1970s?! I can assure her that many many people, maybe even most people, in the UK did “go abroad” in the late 1980s! Maybe not to El Salvador, true…Do many go there even now? And she watched the TV news in black and white? In 1975 or 1980? Come on…

The lady now writes fiction, it seems. Good call.

Odd story

https://news.sky.com/story/coronavirus-person-dressed-as-scary-17th-century-plague-doctor-sought-by-police-11980536

What a country we live in. People can dress up in all sorts of appalling ways so long as they are on an “LGBT” march or the Notting Hill Carnival, and anyone objecting can FO, but one man or woman dressing like a 17thC “plague doctor” (presumably to satirize the present “lockdown” nonsense and/or Coronavirus scare) and the police are out seeking to find him to lecture him, in case he “scares” anyone. After the population has been scared out of its skin by its own government! You couldn’t make it up!

Happened to see this

All I can say is that when I was first appearing, as a “second six pupil” (green, newly-qualified, barrister), in the County Courts and magistrates’ courts in London in 1993, the lower criminal and family courts especially were awash with black barristers. I did some criminal work, but not family. If I am honest, in the next few years I saw not one black (or brown) barrister who was anything other than incompetent. Maybe I was unlucky…I even saw an appalling creature (with teeth sawn to points, like a cannibal) at the High Court in 1994, where he was (thanks to his friends on scandal-hit Lambeth Council) defending a judicial review application. I could say more, but what’s the point?

Ghastly…

A reader of my blog sent this: https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/2020/05/05/review-from-kosher-to-halal/

Home baking

Only for one brief period in my life did I any baking of bread; in the early 1980s. It lasted a few weeks. I got some excellent recipes from a book by the now-forgotten Robert Carrier (famous in the 1960s): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Carrier_(chef)

My first attempt and several others were all successful. It was only then that I went a bridge too far, making from Carrier’s book something called (if memory serves) Old English Spice Bread, which ended up the size, consistency and —almost— weight of a cannonball. It was not that I could not eat it, but that I could not even cut it! I tried to break it open by casting it down, with force, on a pavement. Result? a clunk, as if a piece of concrete had been dropped.

The cost was tremendous. A large amount of double cream, and various other ingredients. All for something half the size of a football and weighing a ton.

Ah…the wonder of the Internet… https://www.eatyourbooks.com/library/recipes/1852274/old-english-spice-bread

I might try ordinary brown bread again, if Waitrose ever has any flour or yeast or bicarb for sale again.

Other tweets and reports seen

Turns out that Professor Ferguson broke his own lockdown in order to meet with his girlfriend (whose husband must be un mari complaisant). Ferguson has now resigned because of that trivia, not because his flawed advice (that there could be 250,000 deaths from Coronavirus in the UK) has led to the shutdown of most of the economy, to the imposition of a “police state-lite”, and maybe to the end of the UK as we have known it.

I knew as soon as I saw that bastard Ferguson that there was something wrong about him. I thought maybe drugs, but it seems that his craving lies elsewhere. It has to be admitted, though, that his girlfriend is not unattractive, on the face of it…

Ms Staats, 38, who lives with her husband and their children in another house, visited the scientist at least twice

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8289921/Scientist-advice-led-lockdown-QUITS-breaking-restrictions-meet-married-lover.html

Meanwhile, Peter Hitchens has finally fallen out with Jewish Zionist Melanie “Mad Mel” Phillips:

Melanie Phillips is desperately trying to boost Boris-idiot by applauding his crazed “lockdown” nonsense. That has put Hitchens off her. I have to say, though, that his perspicacity fails him at times, as here below:

Was it really so surprising that a Jewess who is fanatically pro-Israel supported the war by which the major Western powers defeated one of the two or three greatest threats to Israel, i.e. Iraq under Saddam Hussein? Thus doing Israel’s dirty work. For which Israel paid not a shekel.

Anyway, back to the virus scare and the “lockdown” nonsense:

Hitchens has a long series of altercations with some Jew called Margulies, a lecturer in politics at the University of Essex, no less. The tweet below, is at or near the end of the exchange, as Margulies is put back in his box…

Good to see that the reputation of the University of Essex is being, er, maintained!

Soros and the Great Replacement of populations in Europe

The New World Order [NWO], imposed through Zionist Occupation Governments [ZOG] does not need real Europeans. It is replacing us with lesser types. One has to ask the question, is Coronavirus connected with all this manipulation?

Back to tweets seen

We are not just condemning a generation of young people to long-term joblessness, we are also encumbering the country with levels of debt which it will take decades to pay off and could even linger into the 22nd century. (Remember, the debts incurred as a result of World War II were only finally paid off by Gordon Brown in 2006.” [Daily Mail]

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-8290353/ALEX-BRUMMER-Madness-45s-work-economy-burns.html

Millie

The Jamaican singer, Millie (Millie Small) has died. 73 years old. So I must have been only 7 when her one UK hit came out and was frequently on the radio and TV. I remember it well, maybe partly because “Millie/Millard”— similarity of names.

West Indians were then (1964) few in the UK, incredibly (despite what the msm propaganda would have people believe now). In the early to mid 1960s, I cannot remember ever seeing one —one!—, even in the poorer parts of Reading, let alone where my family lived, on the border of South Oxfordshire), until my family returned to the UK in late 1969, after nearly three years in Australia.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Millie_Small

1964. A different world.

Rory Stewart

Rory Stewart has pulled out of the contest for Mayor of London. I have added another update to my blog post of a year ago about him:

https://ianrmillard.wordpress.com/2019/05/03/will-rory-stewart-mp-be-prime-minister/

My first thoughts about Stewart (at the time, as potential Conservative Party leader and Prime Minister) underwent change as I discovered more about him. Now, my judgment is far less favourable than it was a year ago.

Derbyshire news

Derbyshire’s chief “woodentop” is to “retire”:

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/police-chief-whose-officers-filmed-21984105

Responsible not only for instituting a poundland KGB attitude to the public under the “lockdown” nonsense, but also in respect of the Alison Chabloz case. His “officers” (toytown police woodentops) behaved disgracefully on several occasions.

Now let’s hope that the Derbyshire voters also get rid of the “Police and Crime Commissioner” for that force, a dim Sikh who is in the pocket of the Jewish lobby.

“Lockdown” nonsense may start to be removed next week

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8292573/Boris-Johnson-admits-UKs-coronavirus-death-toll-appalling.html

About time. If I see much more of the (endlessly-repeated on radio and TV) braindead slogan “Stay at home; Protect the NHS; Save lives“, I myself may require immediate help as my blood-pressure goes into orbit.

Stray thoughts

Image

Was he wrong? I would have agreed with his sentiment even a year ago. Now? [sighs]…millions of rabbits under house arrest, scared of their own shadows, lining up six feet apart; then there are the bookburners who think that books written by those they and their sort call “Nazi” should be burned, destroyed etc….and the bookburners include crazed women in academia, “professors” of third-rate universities, writers, journalists…the very people who, even 30 years ago would mostly have supported at least basic intellectual freedom. And so on.

Tomorrow the rabbits and their police zookeepers will all be clapping on command (according to the msm lie machines, anyway…in fact, I suspect that relatively few are boring the pants off the rest of us…not much clapping  is happening where I live).

The general level of quality is shockingly low now in the UK, from government and Parliament to the Press and TV “journalists”, to teachers and exams, to the “learned professions” (certainly the Bar and the solicitors’ profession), to the degraded “universities” and their fake “professors”, to the police (now on the lowest level imaginable).

So, while I feel that “never say never”, on this occasion Enoch Powell may not be right…not in the exact terms, anyway.

Tweets

Late music

An Embarrassing Morning in Court

Another in the series of vignettes about my perhaps slightly unusual life at the English Bar. The disaster recounted below occurred in early 1994.

A children’s author called Lemony Snicket wrote a book called A Series of Unfortunate Events. I once represented someone who had suffered a series of such events.

A Nigerian, X, had been born in the UK where his affluent parents had been on holiday. A few weeks after the birth, the family returned to Nigeria, where X went to school. It was then decided to send X to university overseas. An American university, I think in the Midwest, was chosen and X attended that institution for a few years. During that time, X also engaged, like many Nigerians, in business activities of some sort. Unfortunately, as a result of these, he was charged and convicted of a Federal offence of fraud, subsequently serving a one-year sentence in Federal prison.

X had entered the USA on a visa which was invalidated once X was convicted of a Federal offence. Thus, when the year in prison had finished, X was incarcerated in another Federal detention facility as a person facing deportation. X wanted to appeal his conviction and so resisted deportation by filing an appeal against that too. He was moved to a Federal facility in Louisiana. According to his own account, the place was a “concentration camp” amid heat and mosquitos in which place, every day, he was offered the chance to be released if only he would agree to drop his immigration appeal and return to Nigeria. He resisted these invitations for some time, but eventually, worn down by the conditions, conceded.

It was at this point that it was discovered that X had been born in London. The US authorities thenceforth refused to deal with the Nigerian Consulate on his behalf and took him under guard to the UK Consulate in Houston, Texas, apparently the nearest one with authority to deal with the matter. He was issued with a British passport and was then sent to the UK, a country he had only seen as a newborn baby.

X said that he had never been violent, but only argued with the US officials accompanying him, to the effect that he wished to go to Nigeria, not the UK. As a result, X travelled from Houston to Gatwick handcuffed throughout the flight, also forced to wear a weighted leather device attached to one leg, and with two guards guarding him.

X’s travails continued after landing. All other passengers were disembarked, then a police car was driven up to the aircraft and steps brought. X was told to get up but could not, by reason of his leg having gone to sleep. The handcuffs and leg weight were removed. He was then manhandled by the guards and the British police off the aircraft, then literally dragged down the aircraft steps and into the waiting police car. It got worse from there.

Having (according to his own evidence) not wanted to be sent to the UK, X was now held at Gatwick police station and then an immigration detention centre near Portsmouth on the basis that he had no right to be in the UK  and was, notwithstanding the recently-issued British passport, an illegal immigrant! After two weeks in British immigration detention, X was driven back to Gatwick police station, told “OK, you have been checked out and you do have the right to be in the UK”, whereupon he was given the bus fare to Crawley, the nearest town, and released. Thus X found himself in the UK with only pennies in his pocket, nowhere to stay, knowing no-one and nothing.

X eventually managed to get some kind of emergency help with housing from the local council but wanted to move to London. He left Crawley for various reasons and went to London. He applied for housing to seven London boroughs, most of which refused even to consider his request (he claimed). This was the basis for his wish, over a year later, to seek judicial review of the decisions to refuse him and/or the refusal to consider his request(s) at all. I have no idea why his Nigerian family did not help him out with money or air tickets. Maybe the American events had estranged them.

X in person was irritating: an obsessive, fast-talking West African who had obviously decided to stay in the UK and to extract as much benefit as possible. Having said that, I thought that he had been treated very badly both in the US and UK. His case seemed at least arguable. His solicitor was a small Nigerian, almost a pygmy in size, who did not inspire confidence.

On the morning of the “application to apply” of the 2-stage process, I was at the Royal Courts of Justice, my by-then-usual stamping ground, in order to appear before Mr. Justice Laws (later a Lord Justice of Appeal). I had invited an old friend, an elegant European aristocratic lady, to see me in action and then, after my hoped-for initial triumph, to join me at lunch in Hall at nearby Lincoln’s Inn.

Greek tragedy placed hubris as inviting Nemesis. The courtroom was quite crowded with other barristers coming on after me. At first, things went well, despite the fact that, instead of neatly-organized files, the pygmy solicitor’s filing system appeared to be a large black bin-bag. The judge was listening, even perhaps slightly nodding at times (or was that wishful thinking on my part?). Then I struck the reef:

“Mr. Millard, where is the document from each council refusing Mr X?”

“My Lord, there are no such documents. Part of the case of the Applicant is that he requested a written decision in each case and was refused even that.”

“Mr. Millard, I think that I have to see something in writing.”

It was at this point that I felt a tug on my barrister’s black gown. Turning slightly, I saw the pygmy waving a piece of paper excitedly, smiling manically and nodding like a mechanized Victorian toy. Rashly, very rashly, I replied to the judge,

“I in fact appear to be in a position to assist your Lordship”

and only then looked at the paper. Big mistake. It was blank. I turned it over. Blank. I turned it over again, not quite believing this. I must have looked like a character out of a Laurel and Hardy film. I caught, peripherally, the incredulous looks of a couple of the waiting barristers. Sadly, no flying saucer appeared to beam me up and away from it all. I had to say something.

“I regret, my Lord, that in fact I am not in a position to assist your Lordship.”

Thus it was that Mr Justice Laws, later Lord Justice Laws, turned that colour, a mixture of pink, red and purple, that I now call Judicial Livid. His final remarks, in refusing our application, were curt (though not insulting; they did not have to be…).

On the way out of the courtroom and into the corridor, my guest, swathed in furs and jewels, and whom I had hoped would see me achieve a successful result, sympathetically said, “poor Ian”…

Update, 6 April 2020

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8190231/Dominic-Cummings-uncle-retired-judge-Sir-John-Laws-dies-coronavirus-diagnosis.html

All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players. … They have their exits and their entrances, and in his lifetime a man will play many parts, his life separated into seven acts.

[Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7]