Sunday, 30 August 2015



Well goodness, gracious me!  On this peaceful, if slightly overcast Bank Holiday Sunday, while the rest of us were enjoying a leisurely breakfast and quality time with our loved ones, the strange anonymous creatures who inhabit Jill Havern's forum were pounding out a seemingly unending stream of hatred towards myself, Sonia Poulton, Blacksmith and now, Chris Roberts.

What is that possesses these creatures, and possession it surely is, they must go to sleep thinking about us, and wake up raring to continue where they left off the night before.  How many ways can you say 'I hate you'? several thousand it would seem, and if you can find others of the same ilk, it can go into days, weeks, months and even years.  Have I got the message they don't like me?  Lol, yeh, kinda.  Can I do anything about it?  Well, no, not really.  As I have pointed out before, my existence or non existence will make no difference whatsoever to their miserable lives.  Hatred is their oxygen, bile is their soul food.  Even if I were to oblige them and respond in the same way as Brenda Leyland, they would merely turn their attentions to someone else.  They started off hating and hounding the McCanns, but the McCanns wouldn't play ball, so they had to find someone else.    

Is Tony Bennett a plant?  Who cares, lol.  If he ever had any credibility. it is long gone, most see him now as the deranged, attention seeking busy body that he is.  His 'work', apart from being total crap, is completely worthless, it matters not one iota in the McCann canon. His theories and conclusions are based on nothing other than his own distorted view of the world around him, his fear of sex and his hatred of women.   

He is not so much a plant as just another troll in a long line of trolls that have plagued this case.  I actually doubt very much that Team McCann want assistance from him in any way, shape or form.  1.  His greed and attention seeking matches theirs, 2. He is a pathological liar who can't be trusted and 3. Seriously, who on earth would employ him? 

The Jill Havern forum may once have been a place of interest to those wanting to learn about the mysteries behind the disappearance of Madeleine McCann, but it is now as toxic as the pro McCann sites with only a handful of haters and hounders agreeing with each other and egging each other on. Whilst other forums are discussing whether the missing child will ever receive justice, CMoMM are discussing the evils of my diet book!  All the good posters have left, and anyone brave (or daft) enough to join, is torn to pieces within moments while their chief stalker 'researches' their background and posting history.  It is now nothing more than a den of fear and loathing, in the same category as the death dossier sites JATKY2 and Stop the Myths.  And just like their stable mates, when the time comes, there will no doubt be a lot of document shredding and denial, because anyone attached to it, will have much to be ashamed of.  

My regular readers will no doubt be relieved to know that I am no longer going to comment on the antics of Mr. Bennett or the vile commentary of the disturbed posters on CMoMM.  As interesting as it has been watching their dysfunctional, obsessive behaviour, it is time to move on. 

I will continue commenting on the McCann case as I have always done, but like everyone else, I'm bored silly with the drivel spouted by Bennett and his venomous little band of banshees.  They have nothing of interest to say, and nothing to add to the fight for justice for Madeleine, they, like their odious poison pen letters are now consigned to my spam box. 


Sunday, 23 August 2015


Most people are mystified at the discussion surrounding the case of missing Madeleine McCann.  It all began in the early summer of 2007 when the world awoke to the news of a toddler being stolen from the bosom of her family in a fanfare of sensational headlines.  The iconic picture of the toddler Madeleine in her red Christmas party frock bore little resemblance to the almost 4 year old little girl, but it captured the public's imagination and it tugged at the world's heart and purse strings.  

The bereft parents Gerry and Kate, two intelligent and erudite doctors appeared in front of the cameras almost immediately to establish that their daughter had been abducted and that they were the innocent victims of a heinous crime carried out by strangers.  They were not irresponsible chavs who had left their kids without a babysitter to go out on the lash, they were hard working, middle class professionals desperately in need of a break who made a mistake, and punishing them for that mistake would not bring their daughter back.  They were appealing to the PLUs (People Like Us), the similarly minded middle classes, people who would have done the same, people who had done the same, journalists and politicians, people who would understand and sympathise with their dilemma. 

So successful was their campaign that criticising Gerry and Kate for endangering their children became taboo and it also became a class issue.  Not only did the lower classes not understand the difficulties with childcare faced by their hardworking betters, they were downright evil.  They were haters and pitchforkers who lacked the intelligence and compassion of the PLUs, lowlives and scum who deserved to be shunned or made examples of.   

Thus in the summer of 2007, we entered the Twilight Zone.  Wrong became right, black became white and the pious, God fearing parents were flown out in a private jet to meet the only person holier than themselves, the Pope.  Their blessing by the Holy Father broadcast to Catholics all over the globe - forget the poor, the sick and dying, there were two new saints on the block who needed their help more. 

Whilst it was true to say the case of missing Madeleine attracted more than its' fair share of nutcases and self righteous prigs, it also caught the attention of thousands who could see almost immediately, that they were watching a scam.  Whilst the McCanns' lips said their daughter had been stolen, their eyes said they were lying through their teeth.  Any one of the hundreds of interviews given by the parents could be used as a master class in deception and forensic linguistics and I have no doubt they will used in psychology, criminology and media courses for decades to come.  But expertise isn't necessary, our ability to spot lies is programmed into our psyche, if it weren't, we would all be the doormats the McCanns believe we are.  We know what devastation looks like, we know what grief looks like, sadly we have seen all too often, how genuinely grieving parents look and behave, and we know how we would act ourselves. These were not parents bereft at the thought of their child's body being ripped apart by paedophiles and monsters, they were parents buoyed by media attention and public donations.    

The parents' campaign was intended to capture the world's attention and provoke discussion.  They even paid an agency £500k to keep them on the front pages of the tabloids for a year whilst in the background, their anonymous media monitors stirred the pot, urging the haters on to provide them with proof of harassment and unfounded allegations. They needed sympathy and nothing says you are innocent more than the angry face of sanctimonious busy body as desperate for media attention as themselves. 

Tony Bennett became the unacceptable face of those who did not believe the McCanns.  Taking on the case as investigator, prosecutor, Judge and Jury, he confirmed time and time again, that even the most reasonable of people who dared to question the abduction story were cut from the same hardfaced vigilante cloth as himself and thus we were all treated by the media with the same disdain and contempt.  Most of us had nothing to do with his 'Madeleine Foundation' (a way to steer donations to himself?), or his hounding of the McCann family and their associates but we were all tarred with the same despicable brush. 

For the McCanns, Bennett was the gift that kept on giving, he gave them headlines during the quiet periods, provided evidence of harassment in their damages claim against Goncalo Amaral and invoked public sympathy for their cause.  Who could fail to feel sorry for them, Bennett's stalking knows no bounds.  

However, the majority of McCann sceptics are nothing like Bennett.  They were drawn to the case through their sympathy for the little girl who's life was taken and who's image has been abused for this past 8 years.  Abandoned by her parents, the little girl was abandoned again, by the adults on that fateful holiday, by the grandparents, the uncles, the aunts and all the extended family and friends who sold the lie to the watching world with such relish and enthusiasm, trashing the Portuguese police and Goncalo Amaral, the investigating detective who was getting far too close to the truth.  The parents were the victims, the doubters were the enemy.

But the abandonment of Madeleine didn't finish there, not only did her family perpetuate the lie, the British government and several high profile members of the British police joined in. It suited their agenda, stranger danger is one of the most effective ways for a government to propagate fear among the masses.  In a nutshell 'your kids are risk, (especially from the internet) and only WE can protect you'.   

For many of us, this case became so much more than that of a missing child.  It revealed the sordid underbelly of Whitehall's power seekers and the depths they will sink to in order to gain and maintain control.  Restrictions on Freedom of Speech and Freedom of Information go hand in hand with discussion of this missing particular missing child.  Criticism of the parents was not only taboo, it was almost a criminal offence, with calls from Jim Gamble to place 'antis' in the dock, no doubt with a prison sentence to follow.  Brenda Leyland didn't stick around to find out what her punishment would be, she killed herself.

Yes some sceptics are angry, and understandably so, no parent should make their child disappear and profit from her tragedy and no government or police authority should aid and abet such a crime, even if does suit their own murky agenda. 

For all those who abandoned Madeleine, there are hundreds if not thousands who will never give up on her. People who understand that the only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.  And this case
sadly, and intriguingly, takes evil to a whole new level. The appeals for money for a child who is no longer with us, goes off the scale. Who would do that?  Who could do that? The books on psychopathy need to be rewritten, Madeleine doesn't need cash, she needs a decent burial, but most of all she needs justice. 

Sunday, 16 August 2015


Audrey Hepburn once said that you can always tell what kind of person a man really thinks you are by the earrings he gives you.  Unfortunately, as the majority of us are wooed by knuckle dragging Neanderthals who are more likely to give us pots and pans, we are going to have to widen the baseline.  Looking back at the presents we have received over the years can bring happy/fond memories, or alternately it can lead to several pages of a lengthy and acrimonious divorce Petition - depending on how much blood/cash you are going for. 

However, before grilling the beast you share your bed with about why he bought you a French maid's outfit and a tickle stick, or indeed a drill hammer and a set of spanners for the car, think for a moment about the image YOU are projecting. Most people, even demonic exes, try to buy presents they think the recipients will like/love.  If you get a hoover with matching accessories and an extended duster, you have only yourself to blame.  Ditto, if you are ever daft enough to say out loud you find frogs/poirot clowns/fluffy toys or anything pink, cute.  If you ever become a hoarder, you will have a dedicated room full of it. On the whole, men tend to escape a lifetime of gift themes, unless of course, they are 'Great' golfers/drivers/amateur cooks, in which case they will have an assortment of golf/driving accessories and a kitchen drawer full of saucy aprons. 

As most of us are innately altruistic (and some us of still filled with Catholic guilt), we put need and necessity above desire and frivolity and we put the pleasure of others before our own.  We can't help ourselves, and there is nothing wrong with that, but a happy mum/dad equals a happy child and nothing lights up the heart quite like diamonds or a new hat. Figuratively speaking of course, although these days, diamonds and likenesses thereof are cheap and abundant on every High Street.  Men, great thinkers especially, spend so many hours wondering why they are not getting laid, truth is, they are simply not buying the right presents. 

That our loved ones, family and friends have  categorized and slotted us into the 'gift demographic', appropriate to our age/sex/ orientation, is bad enough (our own fault), 'society' has the more mature among us knitting wheat for breakfast cereals and pondering between a mahogany veneer or cardboard for our coffins. Whilst simultaneously of course, we are cowering in fear that a salesman might call.  Begone you fat, fifty and stairlift ads, send me fabulous ads instead!
When it comes to our fashion choices, we are all a product of the environment we were raised in and the parents who raised us.  In my case, Scottish/Irish and delightfully bonkers but with an unhealthy dose of guilt ridden Catholicism from my years incarcerated in a convent. Bright green hipster bellbottoms apparently, set you on the road to hell.  So too false eyelashes, mini skirts, halter neck tops etc, all tools of the devil designed to get us treated like tarts, raped and/or murdered and dismembered.  And all of which we will have brought onto ourselves for dressing like a hussy.  Mutton dressed as lamb especially.  

Also, many of us foolishly believe that if we wear sensible brogues with a no nonsense hairdo, the world will give us the respect and admiration we deserve for our brains and hard work.  Sadly, life doesn't work that way, whilst standing on an orange box in Hyde Park with Doritos in your mangled hair quoting Shakespeare might draw a large crowd, it will be for all the wrong reasons. 

I can't entirely blame my dramatic incarceration for my own need to dress modestly and sensibly and in accordance with the times (and my age). The cast of Dallas, Audrey Hepburn and Dawn French must shoulder some of the blame.  Dallas for my office attire and Dawn French for showing large ladies too can look fabulous.  And Audrey Hepburn, of course, who's beauty was top to toe, because it came directly from her heart.  I wanted to look like a laydee, a sort of tousled Maggie Thatcher/Hippy Chick.  My fashion sense was as confused as my head. 
I can't even blame all the disapproving matrons I have worked and socialised with.  It wasn't their fault I took their cruel, remarks to heart. I chose their judgement over mine and lost 20+ years of playing dressing up! It was my favourite game when I was 5 and its my favourite game still!  And when I ask all my female friends and acquaintances (of any age) they usually confess it's their favourite game too!  The men I am working on!  Sadly, most straight men live in terror that a splash of colour will declare to the world they are gay and they haven't got the time or patience to try things on, let alone mix and match. Sadly, they don't want to get dressed up, so much as get naked.   
Until those shy heterosexual men come out of their own Neanderthal rules closet and confess they thoroughly enjoy getting dressed up like a dog's dinner, I recommend a hat for every occasion, a snazzy (beautifully textured) blazer, an exotic waistcoat, and of course, a dickie bow.  Trousers are a given (do behave those who think Unbound has dominatrix connotations), but remember, Rupert the Bear ones suit no-one but Rupert. 
 Though I tried to aspire to dress like my fashion icons, my own 'look' was always the modest, toned down, and it has to be said, rather distorted versions of their attire. I was aiming to look classy but not draw attention to myself, I wore a lot of black and 50 shades of unflattering grey and beige.  The fat, manic depression years especially, when the overall look I was trying to achieve was invisibility.  Consciously, or subconsciously I wanted to disappear. I didn't want to bother the world, and I didn't want the world to bother me. I waited for the sun to go down before tiptoing to the local shops dressed like secret squirrel in sunglasses and a camouflage tent. My miserable face ready to scowl at small children and friendly faces along the way. 

In 2010, I had lost my feisty Mother and my lifelong best friend Big Lynn.  Big Lynn was a 6ft 1inch gor blimey cockney, who found a laugh in EVERY situation, bar none, and her laughter could raise the roof.  We met when we were 15 when we started our first jobs together, and from then onwards, even until our 50's, whenever we got together, we were 15 again, giggling like school girls and showing off our new togs.  For me, Big Lynn (and my mum) were the only other women on the planet who understood the sheer joy of putting together an outfit with sparkly accessories. Having lost both of them, I completely lost interest in my clothes and the way I looked.  In the list of catastrophes that was my life, what I wore was way down at the bottom, underneath get the dog's nails clipped.  
I entered my fifties, in a deep, dark (terminal) depression, in my head my life was over.  I believed I should step back and leave centre stage to the young 'uns.  I was thankful that I had once been pretty, but I had to accept that I was now the shabby, smelly cat singing Memory, and telling anyone who would listen about my days in the sun.

Becoming invisible is a strange, yet enlightening experience, it enables you to look at the world from an entirely different perspective.  It isn't a pleasant experience, because when you become invisible, you can see how shallow people really are.  How quick they are to dismiss you because they see you as worthless as you see yourself.  But there are always random acts of kindness too, often from total strangers, enough to save you from losing faith in humanity entirely. 

I had accepted that having my gall bladder removed mean't a lifetime of being fat and unhealthy. I was unaware then that I, and I alone, had control over my health and mental well being.  And that realisation, that epiphany (I have lots of them) changed my life so dramatically that I rushed out a book about it.  If I could lose weight and start to live again, anyone could.  My book 'The Reluctant Dieter', is a (healthy) fast track in which to change your way of thinking about food/life and the depression that cripples us and it is now being recommended by GPs.

But I want to stick with fashion and preening. It is a wonderful, amazing part of what it is to be human, one that cossets and comforts us, and one that can give us confidence beyond our wildest dreams. Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it. It is impossible to feel down in the dumps when you look like a million dollars.  Not only do you look at the world differently, the world looks at you differently in return. 

You must create the person you want to be, then let your imagination run wild. You don't even have to be original, you can help yourself to large dollops of traits in others you admire, most people accept imitation as a huge compliment. You cannot steal whatever it is that makes another person unique, anymore than they can steal it from you.

 Since the 1960's, I have always longed to draw a sweeping black line across my top eye lids, a la Cleopatra and Elvira from Bewitched. As a child and an incarcerated teen, I missed the boat on that one. But my desire for that sweeping eyelash, startled/stern flick at the corner look and huge chandelier earrings never truly went away.  In fact on my bucket list, is get a lesson in makeup from a Drag Queen. My stunningly beautiful friends and indeed my stunningly beautiful mother, always steered me away from the gawdy. When I told her I had gone blonde, she said 'wot like Lily Savage' - those 4 words pretty much told me how much faith she had in my sense of style and given that my fashion idols are drag queens, she may/or may not have had a point.   

For most of my life I have dressed according to society's codes and conventions, the right outfit for the right time and the right place, whilst secretly admiring those who dared to be different.  The guys with the hand crafted bow ties (never elastic, eeek), the gals with the butterfly eyelashes and the cruella nails.  The people who dare to sparkle. 

The only times most of us truly experiment with fashion is in our rebellious teens, and/or, if we are lucky, in our twilight years when we realise all those dire, fatalistic warnings about making a show of ourselves and bunions, matter not a jot.  During the years in between we dress as daughters, girlfriends, wives, mums, office/retail workers, or worse, we wear a uniform. Society expects, neh demands that we suppress our inner desire to look like Liz Taylor or Marilyn Manson, quite rightly some might say.  Turn up at the school gates in diamonds/ full rock concert/nightclub mode and your child will need therapy for decades. Even I, as a small child remember begging my mother to 'at least try' to appear normal in front of my friends and indeed my own kids begging the same of me.  They are billing me for it. lol.

When we look back over our lives, the good times and the bad, we might struggle to recall the details, but we always remember what we wore. When a good friend of mine was eye witness to a bank robbery, she was wearing a cute little jumpsuit with kitten heels and a fabulous new lipstick from Clinique but she couldn't remember that the robber was carrying a gun and wearing a Groucho Marx mask. 
With fashion there are no rules, only those we impose on ourselves.  When I had my recent epiphany, my eyes were opened, at least half the people around me were wearing exactly what they wanted!  It was a bit of a 'Doh!' moment. I was part of the (way too large)sensible Nana group with my practical grey jacket, comfortable walking boots and single string of pearls.  I had a wardrobe full of fabulous things saved for right occasions that never came along and smart office suits that I no longer needed.  Getting dolled up had become a chore.  I had linked it to years of mind numbing office work and rushing to catch trains. I had forgotten how much fun it was nipping down to Petticoat Lane or Oxford Street in the lunch hour with my pals or the girly giggles in the ladies as we got ready for the pub. 

But worse still, I had designated times in my life when it was OK to be fabulous, but as I got older those occasions were fewer and further apart.  Almost everything I possessed was too good for everyday wear. My dressing up clothes were locked away and I had put the padlocks on myself.

It took me until my late 50's to realise that you don't actually need a reason to look fabulous, we don't have to wait for someone to get married so we can wear the jaunty pink hat we bought in Oxfam or for someone to die so we can wear the pillbox with black lace veil. 

Sadly, very few occasions in life demand the wearing of a feather boa, false eyelashes and killer heels, and even less, strictly speaking, require us to wear our Sunday best.  Trackie bottoms say we are far too busy thinking intellectual thoughts and sacrificing our lives for others, it says we have eschewed fashion and frivolity because we are too busy working.  And of course, guilt trip, 'What kind of fecked up, narcissistic bitch spends 20 minutes doing her nails when she's got kids?' 

Tis true, kids and spending 3 hours experimenting with makeup are not natural bedfellows, but the wild hoots of laughter can curb your wilder excesses and their little eagle eyes are great at finding dropped eyelashes, nails and contact lenses. If you are lucky enough to have little girls, they will probably say 'add more sparkle', little boys, if you have not throttled them, will be rolling around the floor giggling and jumping out of your clip round the earlug radius.  The moral being, don't ever take fashion advice from 'orrible little boys or their bigger counterparts.

Next week I am going to the party of a little friend who is going to be 6 and I am probably just as excited about my party dress as she is about hers.  Six year old girls understand the joys of dressing up - the brighter and more flamboyant the better. They don't see age, weight, colour or even eccentricity, they just see fabulous.  Now, where did I put my boa.     

Friday, 14 August 2015


Sadly I think Madeleine was a huge problem for Kate - not so much Gerry, because I doubt he helped very much with kids, but for Kate she was dealing with 3 toddlers on her own.  At home she may have had help, but on this holiday all the childcare was down to her.  Gerry was having up to 3 tennis lessons a day and enjoying 'lads' time with his friends.  Fiona had the help of her mother and Jane and Rachel had partners who were hands on in the care of their children.  By comparison, Kate had a very raw deal, she was wary of going on the holiday, and the sulky Gerry, sitting apart from his wife and children on the bus, said 'he wasn't there to enjoy himself' - had there been a row?

Kate is no earth mother, she passes the care of her children to others at every opportunity.  The priority for this 'family' holiday was to offload the kids so the parents could play tennis and enjoy adult time with their friends. By all accounts, Madeleine was a handful, a wilful child and a 'screamer', she 'prevented' Kate from being the woman she wanted to be and the woman she wanted to be seen as.  It is hard to shine as the centre of attention when you are constantly having to deal with the temper tantrums and demands of a hyperactive 3/4 year old.  I think the 'perfect' holiday they sold us, was far from perfect.

I am not without sympathy.  When my own kids were small, I spent many nights sat at home crying whilst my childfree friends and those with family support, were out whooping it up to their heart's content.  But, like most mums and dads, I accepted it because in the whole scheme of things kids are little for such a short time and their cute smiles and loving hugs more than compensate for the 'good times' you miss. 

Gerry and Kate however are a different kettle of fish.  They are used to getting what they want.  This may well stem from Gerry being the doted on youngest sibling and Kate being an only child, but their oversized egos drive them.  If they want to do something they will find a way in which to do it, regardless.  It is the secret of their success. 

I believe Kate was jealous of Madeleine's relationship with Gerry (Gerry belongs to her) and resentful towards her daughter for dragging her away from the 'adult' things she wanted to do.  And by adult, I don't mean in the textusa sense, but in the sense of 'it was their holiday too'. 

With the demanding Madeleine out of the way, the parents relationship blossomed. Kate had Gerry all to herself and the twins had 24/7 care from all the friends and relatives who flew out to join them on their holiday.  In the summer of 2007, the parents looked totally relaxed and stress free, almost like a honeymoon couple.  Without nappies to change and demanding toddlers to deal with, they could spend all the time they wanted running, playing tennis and enjoying adult company without criticism.  They were doing it for Maddie. 

For me it is very hard to make the transition from violent rage to premeditated murder.  The 'plan', if there was one, was far too complicated and there was no way of knowing how events would unfold once the disappearance of Madeleine was reported. 

However, I don't rule it out, I respect the opinion of Dr. Ludke and if others higher up the Madeleine food chain were involved, it is a possibility.  The speed with which the cherubic Madeleine became the face of massive child finding conglomerates is more than a little suspicious and the dodgy entry
on the Wayback site would support this theory.  

From a logical perspective however, it is more likely that a crisis management and clean up operation took place. There are too many holes in the abduction story for it to have been pre-planned and the sloppy way in which the body was moved leaving the smell of cadaver in their own hire car suggests panic.  Had they wanted to get rid of Madeleine there were far simpler and more effective ways in which to do it without drawing suspicion onto themselves. 
I'm not sure anyone could have predicted that the disappearance of Madeleine would have caused such a media sensation.  Gerry and Kate could not hide their surprise (and joy) at the way in which the Madeleine Fund took off.  They went from 'We didn't know we needed a Fund' (Gerry) to a full blown fundraising campaign and plans for a 'Madeleine Day' for the whole world involving superstars from the music, sports and arts industries. 

Whilst some of the armchair detectives are convinced Madeleine died earlier in the week and have come up with all sorts of theories to account for the parents actions (swinging, paedophile gangs etc), they are using nothing other than speculation. 

Goncalo Amaral and the PJ were on the scene, they know more than we do, as do the officers on Operation Grange.  The only facts we onlookers have are those released in the original police files which are now 8 years old and there has been a lot of water under the bridge since. 

The highly trained and efficient EVRD (Enhanced Victim Recovery) dogs reacted to the McCanns belongings, the apartment they stayed in and the car they hired, no-where else.  Any theory that discards those findings is worthless.  So too any armchair theories involving others - when the PJ shelved the case through lack of evidence, they were not looking for anyone else. 

Those who claim none of us know how we would act in such circumstances, need to wake up and smell the (Expresso) coffee - genuine parents grieving the loss of their child shun publicity and do not care what they look like.  They do not do glamorous magazine photoshoots and go on world tours. 

Sunday, 9 August 2015


There are only a couple of options if it was you know who - he had only moments to get rid of the body and return to the group.  I don't think he would have had time to find an unfamiliar address, knock and/or fumble with keys etc.  Finding a secure location on the beach or on wasteland in the local vicinity would have caused the same problems with the time factor - unless a temporary 'hiding spot' was previously known.  Whichever way, you look at it, there were massive risks.  Once the alarm was raised searchers and dogs would be combing the area. 

Some might say, the McCanns were expecting the body to be found.  As early as 10.30pm Gerry was discussing paedophile gangs, and Kate was heard to say 'those f**king B'stards' have taken her'.  This could be interpreted as an explanation for the condition of the body and anything an autopsy might reveal.  The hiding place could not have been that secure, because the body was moved 3 weeks later - prior to the more intensive searches by the specialist team from the UK.  Again, huge risks were taken, more areas were contaminated with the smell of cadaver. 

The first burial place in my opinion was not premeditated, pre-planned or assisted in by anyone outside of the holiday group - if it had been the parents would not have been dropping hints about paedophile gangs and 'f**king B'stards.  The main agenda of the McCanns' campaign is to convince the world Madeleine is alive and well and being treated like a princess.  In those early hours I think,  there was a very real fear that her body would be found. 

There is of course the possibility that Smithman was rushing to meet someone, someone either in a car, or someone he could pass the body too, whose absence wouldn't be missed.  This explanation would have required outside assistance, perhaps from someone local or someone known to the group who lived nearby and who was willing to drop everything to rush to their aid.  I don't mean 'known' in the Tony Bennett sense, I mean someone who adores you enough to rush out in the night to help you hide your dead daughter's body and face several years in prison themselves.  It is quite a big 'ask'. 

In any event, whoever the abductor passed the body too, was not knowledgeable enough, or well connected enough, to hide the body in a permanent resting place. And of course, he too, like the original abductor, didn't have a car.  He couldn't have, because if he did, he would driven as far away from PDL with his cargo as he could and the question of moving the body again would not have arisen.  He most certainly would not have remained in the immediate vicinity digging a hole while a massive search was underway. 

However, going with this theory, you can see why the telephone calls and antenna signals are of vital importance.  Who did those first calls go to?  Had they been from the McCanns to Robert Murat for example, the case could have been wrapped up years ago.

I believe the body was hidden temporarily in the local vicinity (in panic) in a spot that could prove problematic if more intensive searches were carried out.  Moving the body was an incredibly risky thing to do -  they clearly did not have outside assistance, because they used their own hire car.  Had they been in league with the very well connected Robert Murat, alternate cars would I am sure, have been available. 

The McCanns are risk takers extraordinaire, they have come this far on a wing and a prayer, everything they have done has involved almighty risks.  Perhaps they truly believe they are the 'chosen ones', they certainly appear to be in the grip of the 'God Complex'.  Fate has favoured them, they have turned almost every negative into a positive. They lost they daughter, they became Ambassadors for children everywhere.  They were criticized by the Media, they shut the media up.  They turned a great big whopping lie into the truth.  That takes some balls. 

I think the most likely explanation is that the holiday party had become familiar with the areas around PDL during the course of their holiday.  In their runs and explorations, the chances are they came across a nook, a cranny, or a cave, that would perfectly fit their needs in the short term. A place remembered at a time of desperation, and a place one man could run too, spend seconds doing the deed, and return to the main stage in time for the curtains to rise.  And the excavations in the areas around Apartment 5A last summer would seem to support that theory.  The second burial place was of course the final one, one in which they had time to plan and a vehicle with which to go further afield. 

Note to Sykes:  You claim the money from the advertising on your site goes to the 'main owners' Forumotion.  An out and out lie!  Bloggers and forum owners have the option to have advertising or not.  The idea that you have advertising on your site for the financial benefit of a large, unknown corporation is absurd and you must be the only forum owner on the net who does that.  You have chosen to have advertising on your website, ergo, you have agreed to the conditions and you have physically added the gadgets to enable them.  You are fooling no-one, other than your fellow death dossier compilers on JATKY2 and Stop the Myths.  The amount may well be a pittance, but you are stealing it nonetheless.  The advertisers are attracted to your site based on the work you steal from others.  You are the lowest of the low in the blogger world and I hope, once people realise what you are doing that you receive the contempt you deserve.  
You have removed my Reluctant Dieter's blog and book excerpt, but you still have entire blogs that you have republished without my permission.  That is copyright theft.  As for my diet blog, it may well be of interest to your readers, but you didn't write it, did you?  And you certainly didn't ask my permission to put it on your website.
We bloggers put a lot of time and effort into our work in order to get 'hits' - for us it is a labour of love.  The only 'work' you do, is copying and pasting what we have written, and for this you are receiving advertising revenue.  You have even said in the past that you are putting my blogs on your website to prevent me from getting the 'hits', thereby of course, ensuring that the hits go to you.  By taking my blogs and my hits, you are stealing.  I am not mincing my words here, you are a thief and I am not going to tolerate it any longer.    

Saturday, 8 August 2015


I believe the Smithman sighting is the biggest lead Scotland Yard have - they dedicated almost an entire 'Crimewatch' to it.  That picture of Gerry and Kate being interviewed by DCI Redwood with Smithman in the background is iconic for good reason.  And of course last summer, Operation Grange spent thousands if not millions, digging up areas in the immediate vicinity of Apartment 5A, following the route taken by Smithman.  You can kind of see why anyone desperate to take Smithman out of the equation would now be extremely agitated. 

CMoMM as many of us kind of saw coming, has finally self combusted.  History has shown that people don't like it, when you force one opinion down to their throats and exclude all others.  Of course you always get wannabe dictators and tyrants who think they can buck the trend, but it always ends in tears.  Tony might do well to put down his bible, and study ACTUAL history.  'Veni, Vide, Vice' ended with 'et tu Brute'. 

Contrary to the volumes of speculation and downright nonsense published by Tony Bennett, Gerry and Kate have deliberately played down and tried to ignore the sighting by the Smith family on the night of 3rd May.  Of the two 'sightings' on the night, they publicised the single sighting by Jane Tanner, rather than the group sighting by the Smith family.  Although the McCanns have held many press and faux police conferences dedicated to the Tanner sighting and Posh Spice look alike in Barcelona, they have NEVER made any appeals regarding the man seen by the Smiths.  For anyone studying this case, that is a huge red light!  In fact, so vague has been Team McCanns coverage of the Smithman sighting, that DCI Redwood introduced it as a huge revelation. 

When the Times newspaper published an article claiming that the McCanns suppressed information about 'Smithman', there were further legal challenges and machinations, but essentially The Times were right, and the McCanns' claim that they could not afford to publicise TWO suspects was clearly nonsense.  For 8 years Gerry and Kate have been able to get front page coverage for their every bodily function.  Kate couldn't make love to Gerry, they have been heartened, devastated and on many occasions apoplectic with rage, but they have never had a moment to mention the strongest possible lead to the recovery of their daughter?  Seriously?

The reasons CMoMM are now solely dedicated to establishing that Smithman was NOT Gerry are a mystery, but their tactics are not working.  Absolutely no-one outside their inner clique is buying it - not that it matters one iota.  Tony Bennett fortunately has not now and has never ever, had any influence over the investigation into the disappearance of Madeleine McCann.  My sympathy is entirely with those on the receiving end of his voluminous letters.  Ditto those on receiving end of letters etc from Team McCann.  Wealth can buy a lot of 'legalspeak' and tie people up in paperwork for years.  Lets hope none of the officers on Operation Grange have been assigned to it. 

I have no idea what is going with on Operation Grange, other than an extraordinary, nay, unique investigation, the like of which the entire world has probably never seen before.  30+ top homicide detectives, millions of pounds of public money, 4 YEARS and counting - in search of one small girl. I am not saying one small girl does not deserve such attention, but on a bizarre and disproportionate level, it goes off the scale. 

However, I am in fact heartened, if I may borrow the word, that Scotland Yard appear to be working on behalf of Madeleine, though for obvious reasons, they cannot say so.  Their generous contribution to their fellow officer's legal battles with the former suspects, spoke volumes.  I don't discard the words of others who comment on the McCann case, this case has been astonishing on every level.  I would argue that cover ups would be quiet and discreet, which is why we do not know about them. But then again, 'in plain sight' appears to be the current trend, so who knows. 

When you discard the elephants, the lion tamers, the flying trapeze and the clowns, there was a tragedy.  A tragedy lost in the obscene rush to profit and capitalise in the aftermath.  Madeleine wasn't mourned, she was turned into a trademark.  Her cute, angelic face covered a thousand billboards, but we never knew who she was.  She didn't grow up, she never will.  As Gerry says she is the innocent victim in all this.

'Gerry and I are finishers' Kate once said, and indeed they are.  They have proved it time and time again with their sporting achievements.  Whilst the rest of us start each new year with a list of wholesome resolutions, by January 3rd, we are diving head first into a tub of Hagaan Das and singing 'Little Ole Wine Drinker Me' hicGerry and Kate are made of much sterner stuff, they probably have a list of  'objectives' (carved in stone) rather than drunken aspirations to climb Mount Everest, legalise fun drugs and bring back Flower Power.  Gerry and Kate get things done, they are ruled by their heads, not their hearts, and that combined with an almost martyresque determination, drives them on.  They will not give up, they will not abandon their mission. #imthekingoftheword #drevil #kamakikaze #doyourecant #ouchthatburns

Kate may well come to regret those ill chosen words, Goncalo Amaral too is a finisher, and his is a noble and just cause.  He will settle for nothing less than the truth.  Goncalo, if he will forgive me, is the tortoise to the McCanns' hare, 'don't brag about your lightening pace, Slow and Steady won the race'. (Aesop)

From Only in America blog.

Tuesday, 4 August 2015


For the first time in years, British politics has just got exciting! I had all but abandoned any hope of a lifeline for society's most vulnerable, but now we have a Labour politician brave enough and popular enough to challenge these heartless tory policies and remind the Blairites of the people they are supposed to represent.  Thousands turned out in London this evening, and the atmosphere was electric.  Not militants, not loons, but ordinary, decent and compassionate people - the kind of people our politicians stopped listening to, because they believe they know what is best for us.

The Blairites sneer at those supporting Jeremy Corbyn, maintaining that the former PM is the only one who knows how to win elections, as if the same rules apply 20 years on from his heyday.  This is a different Britain now, a harsh, bleak society with an ever growing underclass and children going hungry. The most vulnerable are dying at a rate unheard of since the middle of the last century and the present generation have a lower life expectancy than their parents.  

This isn't the time for the moderate politics of the centre ground, it is the time for Labour to remember who they represent.  Whilst the large corporations may have all the money, the public have all the votes, and the public are turning out in their thousands to tell them they want change.    

The squeeze on society's most vulnerable is unnecessary, and indeed, downright cruel.  So little is being saved, its roots lie in scapegoat and propaganda politics.  Only 0.5% of benefit claims are fraudulent, and this loss could be wiped out by, say, one giant coffee chain paying its tax to the country in which it operates, for a year. 

Unfortunately, New Labour have gone so far right, that you can't distinguish them from the Eton tories they banter with.  The House of Common appears full of Little Lord Fauntleroys vying for cabinet positions and a country pile in which to retire.  They no longer represent ordinary people.  People who are having to endure the reversal of the humane labour laws that protected previous generations.  Now zero hours contracts are commonplace (how do you get a mortgage?) and employees have few, if any rights.  Disembowelling the Unions, perhaps wasn't such a good idea after all. 

The Labour party have been searching for that 'winning' formula, a photogenic, highly polished career politician, because that's what has worked on both sides of the Atlantic for 20+ years.  In order to be PM (or President) you need a Colgate smile.  Or at least that is what those in the 'know' would have us believe.  Gordon just didn't have that well groomed, sparkly tooth 'X' factor, and look what happened to him?  I won't even mention Michael Foot in his donkey jacket. 

Unhappily for those who dictate the way we ought to be thinking, they have hit a wall of canned food destined for a food bank, and an angry public asking 'when will someone stop this madness?' and 'where the hell are the Labour party?'.   You only have to look at the number of luxury properties Tony Blair owns to understand where his priorities lie, the only consolation is that he will never be able to truly enjoy any of them. Those promoting more Blairism should hang their heads in shame. 

If Jeremy Corbyn wins the Labour leadership, there will be much to look forward to.  The UK may even become a beacon for the rest of austerity ridden Europe.  It will be as if we had got the guillotine before France.  I jest of course, I merely want to see government reshuffled and led by those who would strive for a kinder and more equal society.  

Jeremy Corbyn is the only labour leadership candidate who opposes austerity, if any of the other candidates win, we will get more of the same and Cameron will continue to get an easy ride as he carves up the NHS and persecutes the disabled.  If the passionate and articulate JC wins, Prime Minister's Questiontime will become very interesting indeed.