Death Of A Nightclub Bouncer

The death of a nightclub bouncer. A man, we're led to believe, with a history from an early age of bullying, violence and intimidation of others. A man known to mental health and social services for refusing to take up the offer of the help that he had asked for. A man with connections to known criminals and a long list of arrests and charges against him including conspiracy to murder. And, up until his recent conviction and imprisonment for assaulting his own child, a man who seemed to have somehow 'got away with it all'.

My gut feeling - and without professing any expert knowledge - is that he was what I would call a vicious bully with a highly controlling, suspicious and self-centred personality. It seems clear he planned the murder of his ex-girlfriend's new partner and the attempted murders of his ex-girlfriend and a police officer while in prison. He 'forced' or manipulated several others to help him. It sounds like he had every intention of killing or maiming more. He had every chance to hand himself in peacefully and every chance not to kill himself.

I don't doubt that he may well have been depressed, angry, frightened. Especially when cornered by the police. He may even have been paranoid and rightly so, given the incredible and heavily armed forces of the state out to get him. But at no time did he ever show any inclination to accept responsibility for his own actions. His pitiful apologies to his ex-girlfriend for shooting her while claiming it was her fault for provoking him were shallow in the extreme. A desperate attempt, by a desperate man, to evade responsibility and put the blame others.

I also don't doubt that he was highly adept at presenting to his so-called friends and acquaintances a charming, friendly, helpful front, while privately abusing those weaker and much more vulnerable who were closest to him - his girlfriends and children.

I don't doubt that it's a miracle his then three year old daughter survived a fall from their flat several stories up after she somehow dragged her bed to the window and climbed up to the open window from where she fell.

If this all sounds terribly unsympathetic, that's because I don't have any sympathy for someone who did what he did. His was NOT a crime of passion. It was planned, cold-blooded murder and attempted murder. Not the behaviour of someone with mental health difficulties.

Any time someone commits an horrific act of violence, mental illness seems to be assumed by the media to be a factor and often 'confirmed' retrospectively by the authorities in the course of legal proceedings.

I'm not saying that it doesn't happen. Mentally ill people do sometimes commit horrific acts of violence. But it's actually quite rare despite the sensationalised and stigmatising media coverage that goes with it tarring with the same brush the vast majority of people with mental health difficulties who, in my experience, are some of the most honest and gentle people you could wish to meet.

Having said all of that, any loss of life is sad. And I do believe that our society has a lot to answer for in terms of people's upbringing, emotional development and mental welfare. Things could have been very different, I'm sure, with a bit more love and care. I hope we can all do our bit to change how things are.

One final point. Many people seem to be trying to say the police 'executed' him by Tasering and causing him to involuntarily pull the trigger on himself. My guess is that they have a plan for such situations and when he started talking about saying sorry and goodbye they knew he was about to shoot himself. That's why they tried to Taser him in a last-ditch attempt to save his life and bring him to justice. Maybe they could have tried other strategies. Maybe some of this will come out in the inquiries.

Of course, I could be entirely wrong. I'm only going on what's been reported in the media, like everyone else, and my own interpretation of that. It's almost certainly much more likely that he was a CGI character created by psyops to send a message to the lizard people about starting the next world war with Iran.

No Onions, But Plenty Of Fireworks With Bier

Last night, eight of us from Enfield Clubhouse went to Alexandra Palace to see London's largest and most popular fireworks display. Below are some photos and a video I took. The fireworks were pretty and spectacular - worth seeing, if you like that kind of thing!





After the fireworks, we climbed up the hill to the Palace itself and queued to get into the German Bier Festival. To call it a Festival is really a big overstatement. It's a few years since I went to a beer festival and it was most likely Up North in deepest, darkest Bury, Lancashire, or somewhere like that. Maybe they do them differently Down South, but this was a bit of a let down. One tiny little bar, like you might find in a marquee at a modern marketed music festival. One brand of German Bier - Paulaner - and only two varieties: Munich and Weiss. The Weiss was off by the time I had been pushed and shoved forward by the ten deep bar queue. If you didn't fancy Paulaner Munich, you could have that old Bavarian favourite, Foster's. And they insisted on calling it Beir, which makes me wonder how authentic it really was. Not that authenticity seemed to be high on the agenda as it was all served in the obligatory health and safety plastic beakers.

So, we all got beer and seats in the Great Hall by which time a bunch of Cockney Irish fiddlers and banjoists started murdering Pogues' classics, much to the delight of the mostly student audience who I'm sure were out of their minds by now. Not that it stopped one of the thieving little tykes nicking my beer when I laid it down to rest and turned my back for five minutes.

What followed is a little hazy - maybe the beir was real, after all.
I fear that I may have danced to Chas But Not Dave or Chas And His Band or whatever Chas 'n' Dave are now known as. I was a little disturbed by the large, bald bass player, especially when he kept repeating "Gertcha!" like an overly loud belch, totally drowning out scrawny-looking Chas on vocals.

To make matters worse, on leaving, I stopped for a Hot Dog.

"Sorry, no onions" said the serving assistant.

"Oh, that's a shame. I like onions on my Hot Dog. So. They are £3.00 with onions, right?"

"That's right, sir, but we don't have any onions left."

"No, you don't. So, if it's £3.00 with onions... how much is it for a Hot Dog without onions?"

"It's £3.00, sir. With or without onions."

By this time I was already in full Basil Fawlty mode. "I'd like a discount, please. If it's £3.00 for a Hot Dog with onions, then I'd like 20% off for a Hot Dog without onions."

"It's £3.00, sir. With or without onions."

"How can it be the same price, with or without onions?"

"It's £3.00, sir. With or without onions."

"So, can I have a discount, then or not? I'm willing to pay £2.40 for a Hot Dog without onions. If only you'd removed the empty onion trays and not told me you had no onions I'd never have known. Or you could scrape up the remaining slivers and let me have those...." Now, I felt like Yossarian in Catch-22 trying to get out of the Air Force by being crazy, but being told that he couldn't be crazy because he wanted to leave. And only a sane man would want to leave.

"I'm sorry, sir, there's nothing I can do. I can't give a discount. I just work here. It's £3.00, sir. With or without onions."

"You could give me a discount if you wanted to. I'm sure you could."

The guy (no pun intended) behind me piped up, offering to call the Office Of Fair Trading. I suggested that they might want to consult the Sale Of Consumer Goods Act.

"I can't give a discount, sir. It's £3.00, with or without onions."

"OK, I give in. I'll have a Hot Dog without onions for £3.00."

"You have to pay first, sir."

"What?! But you just gave him one! He hasn't paid yet!"

"I'm sorry, sir. You have to pay first and then I'll give you the Hot Dog."

A young American woman approached me. "Please stop harassing my staff, sir."

"What?! Harassing your staff?! You've got to be joking?!"

"No, sir. You're harassing my staff. Now, please stop it or I will have to call Security to come and remove you."

"All I want is a Hot Dog with onions for £3.00 as advertised. If you don't have onions, then fine, I'll buy a bareback Hot Dog for £2.40."

"Sir, you can buy a Hot Dog without onions for £3.00 or go without."

"Why can't you give me a discount?"

"I only work here, sir. I can't give you a discount."

"Hang on. I thought you were in charge? Surely you can use your discretion and keep your customers happy? I just spent plenty of money tonight on donating to the cost of the fireworks display and buying beer for me and my friends."

"What's your problem, mate?" asked a student grumpily and who looked like he had dyed his original wiry ginger hair black. "It says Hot Dogs £3.00. Doesn't say anything about onions."

"No, I know it doesn't say anything about onions. That's a very good point. And that's why I'm not going to engage you in any further conversation. Enjoy your Hot Dog! Thank you all and goodnight."

Thanks also, to Lee, Gemma, Michael, Atul, Dan, Raheem and Angelina for making it a fun night out. And my apologies for any offence caused to the Hot Dog stand workers.

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It’s Just A Ride. Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed through a slow vibration, we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, life is only a dream and we are the imaginations of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather. Bill Hicks

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