Afternoon music
Tweets seen
When I was first there, in mid-1988, I was one of only a tiny handful of people on the bridge; about 7 people. The next time I saw it, in 1999, there were hundreds, and Prague was a very different city.
Corbyn was right, it seems— “they” really do not understand irony…
Reminiscence of a Christmas past
Reading a couple of tweets today reminds me of a personal experience of the criminal courts at Christmas-time.
I think that it was December 1993 when I went to Snaresbrook Crown Court (on the London/Essex border) to defend a West Indian accused of selling counterfeit cassette tapes at a street market.
I had formulated what I thought was a reasonable defence on the facts; in effect, mainly an alibi defence.
The defendant was rather a pain, who obviously thought himself a very clever fellow; I had also represented him at the committal proceedings at Highbury Corner Mags.
I was looking forward not only to a possibly successful defence but also to a lunch or more with a lady I knew slightly, who lived quite close to the Court, and who knew that I would be there that day. Not a firm date, but a pleasant possibility anyway.
Just before the start of the trial, Prosecution Counsel came to me with the news that the prosecution was not going to proceed. The cost of proving, via forensic science, that the tapes were counterfeit was too much, apparently.
Pleasant news both for the defendant and for me. Instead of a day in court, finished at 1030. The only negative factor— two days of refreshers (daily fees) which I would not get.
I was in the robing room and about to get ready to leave, when the public address system called my name. I hurried to the large circular reception desk in the entrance lobby of the building. Naturally, I thought that it must be that lunching lady whose businessman husband was, presumably, on the golf course where (she claimed) he spent most of his time.
Imagine my surprise and, to be frank, disappointment, when the person awaiting me was a short, fat barrister, who asked me whether I would be willing to undertake a defence at short notice (almost immediately). I agreed. A modest standard fee, but don’t look a gift horse in the mouth…
It emerged that, by reason of bureaucratic mistakes, a defendant (another West Indian) had actually got as far as Crown Court trial, on a charge of theft or attempted theft (of a handbag), without ever having had the benefit of solicitor or Counsel. Something, as far as I know, unheard of these days except where a defendant represents himself by choice.
The facts alleged were that the defendant had been being shadowed by a special police squad in the busy Upper Street, Islington, and that the surveillance squad had seen him enter the Cuba Libre restaurant.
The defendant had then emerged with a large laminated menu, and sat at an outside table, next to and very close to a table occupied by a group of young women. The police squad had observed the defendant’s foot moving the handbag in question, which was resting on the ground. Finally, the defendant had allegedly made to grab the handbag, only to be jumped upon and arrested before he could even get to his feet.
I actually knew the restaurant, had visited it a few times, and had even once sat outside, the very locus of the alleged offence.
I had a brief conference with the defendant. I asked him why he was even at a restaurant in view of the police evidence that he had not a penny in his pocket on arrest. His answer? That he had been awaiting his girlfriend, who always paid! I made a joke to the effect that I should have a girlfriend like that.
I told the defendant that the evidence did not really show that what he had done amounted to theft, or even to an attempt.
A poor witness in his own defence, but there was no need for him to give evidence at all, really. Let the Prosecution prove the attempt, if they could.
In Court, the judge was perplexed as to how the trial could ever have come on without Counsel having been instructed beforehand. Prosecution Counsel was equally perplexed. Still, both Counsel present were ready to roll, until —just as I got to my feet to reply to a remark from the judge— the defendant shouted out “WILL YOU PLEASE DEFEND ME?!“, followed by “I DON’T WANT HIM! I WANT SOMEONE ELSE” (unnamed).
The judge told the defendant to keep quiet, but added that, in the circumstances, he had no alternative but to adjourn the trial until late January, and grant the defendant bail. As the Prosecution Counsel said to me, that was exactly why the defendant had shouted out— he knew that he would be bailed over Christmas and New Year, and thought that an immediate trial would mean a custodial sentence that day, very likely.
I think that that defendant was wrong. I think that I could have had him acquitted that day, but there we are… I have occasionally wondered what happened at the eventual trial.
Incidentally, Cuba Libre closed some years ago, but has been resurrected in Dalston, East London, under another name. The interior seems to be similar to that of the restaurant I remember, though.
From the newspapers
“Heartless fraudsters conned the public out of £500,000 by buying Pudsey Bear outfits and posing as collectors for children’s charities – before splurging on luxury holidays and fast cars.
On some occasions, the fraudsters, who were led by David Levi, 49, wore Pudsey Bear outfits which had been bought online, and used email addresses and websites set up to look like legitimate charities, Preston Crown Court heard.”
[Daily Mail]
More tweets seen
“Good afternoon, and an early Merry Griftmas to you all. I’m publishing this early to get ahead of a systemic attempt to shut this controversy down.
I can now reveal some of the extent of the grift as money sloshed through Jack Monroe’s PayPal account when she fraudulently claimed to be suing@MartinDaubney and @LeeAndersonMP_, as well as a bit earlier in 2022 when she repeatedly claimed her website was broken and she desperately needed the advertising income to continue her job as a “recipe writer”, making no mention of the £10k she had just received from Patreon subscribers.
My research covers the time period of the fake libel case, as well as various other begs such as the broken website, etc. and all the times she claimed to be living in poverty (e.g. July 2022), etc. however it was not possible to negotiate access to data earlier than that so we’ll never publicly know how much she scammed from 2012-2021, sorry.
It also does not cover beyond May 2023 as the primary focus of my investigation has been on the fake libel fundraiser which didn’t go beyond that time, as the most egregious fraud perpetuated on the public. January/February 2022: the “broken website” beg netted her more than £7,000 – seemingly a mixture of existing followers and new followers acquired from Nigella’s promotion of Jack’s Patreon and subsequent uplift in Patreon takings.
The fake libel trial: Over £25,000 in the first few days of the initial tweet about the alleged libel. Then, depending on how you calculate it (because no, these funds were NOT ringfenced at all), over £150,000 minimum across the year of claiming that she was definitely, 100% going ahead with it, boosted at various times when she put the beg out again and again and referenced it in media interviews, etc.
Hunger Hurts 2 – July 2022: A “smaller beg” of over £3,000 for contrived nonsense about boiling down soap to make shower gel. These figures and some of the data have been passed to HMRC and Action Fraud, urging them to do a deeper investigation.
Given the sensitive nature of the information, as well as the threats (of violence, of doxxing, of generally unpleasant things promised), police interest (I have not been arrested or charged), and backlash I received for leaking the Patreon data I was given, I am not going to publish the raw information at all; partly because I’m not a complete cunt, partly because there’s so many transactions that redacting them would take ages, and partly because doing so would likely undermine any future criminal investigation which has been my goal all along.
The level of deceit displayed by her is jaw-dropping. Inventing the fictional persona of “Jack Monroe”, the people’s poverty princess, and then revising history and testing out different versions of events to concoct the most emotionally charged and financially lucrative story to steal money from well-meaning, naive people: most of whom appear to have been less well-off than her, backing up the assertion that she claimed was defamatory about her making money off of poor people.
The people who platformed her have a lot to answer for, too. She didn’t become famous on her own. She has been platformed, celebrated, and supported by celebrities and the media for over a decade: all of it based on a mistelling of the truth that has grown out of all proportion to become monstrous, menacing, and misleading.
She has taken you all for a ride and laughed at your expense every step of the way. The watch, the earrings, the Cotswold sideboards, etc. all came from money you’ve given her. And it hasn’t helped the less fortunate: her “campaigning” has been insipid and weak, vague and general rather than specific, and a waste of time when a more qualified, knowledgeable person with the work ethic Jack lacks could have been platformed instead.
I can only hope this conclusively puts an end to her scamming and she faces justice for all the bad things she’s done. It is my fervent wish that she becomes a winning answer on the show Pointless (as nobody will know who she is) and that she is treated with contempt and mockery everywhere she goes, second only to the wish that she faces proper investigation and criminal sanctions for the fraud she’s committed.
And, at this point, given all I have seen, I am firmly of the opinion that it is fraud. Not a mistake, not an “oopsie, my bad” but clear, calculated fraud designed to take money from well-meaning people and spend it on herself. My work here is done.
This account will now be archived so the evidence remains public. Thanks for all your support. I couldn’t have done it without you all. I am off to enjoy my Christmas vacation now and I hope you are too (if you celebrate it). Please enjoy the video at the bottom and turn the sound up to hear the song.
Adieu, LG x“
That still leaves Sweden with the problem of what to do with the now-large non-European minority in the country.
Late music
Ian Robert Millard 