Celtic Illumination, part 366, The Book of the Wisdom Of Solomon
Once again thank you all for your comments and suggestions, and by the way no Peter Browne, I shall not be taking a long walk off a short pier in the very near future. Because the Celtic Illumination blog goes out over so many different platforms most of you will only see a fraction of the total suggestions and comments made. And as it goes out on a private military site many of you will not see the daily torrent of abuse I have to put up with from the likes of Lort, Clancey and Browne. The main underlying question seems to be why would the future King of Ireland be involved in, what could considered to be, a social services based form of cage fighting in the beautiful city of Liverpool? Well; as you all know a double top secret cabal have ruled my life ever since I was ripped from the arms of my loving mother, that’s mother number two, and taken away by a battle hardened snatch squad of Carmelite nuns to be raised and prepared to become the world’s leading Master Candle Maker, the High Chief of the Clan O Neill and of course the true King of Ireland.
By the way don’t worry yourselves about the abuse I get, I know as members of the Illuminati you have all pledged your lives to support me, and by the way if you didn’t know, you all do now, it was in the small print. I think the abuse is meant to toughen me up, for example even last evening in the luxurious comfort of my own home, I was still facing abuse. My beautiful daughter Jane was home for a few days and we had a sort of small family get together. Not all my children were there as we only invited the nice ones. We were watching the film Philomena, a film very close to my own story, when at the point where they discover that children were being bought and sold by the nuns for one thousand pounds each, I asked, ‘I wonder how much they paid for me?’
My wonderful daughter suggested that I was priceless while my eldest boy, Gerard, suggested that they would probably have paid one thousand pounds for my sister Carol while I, with the six fingers, would have been in the reject basket on a, ‘buy one get one free,’ deal. Even with the size of him he’s never too big to get a thump. So I think we can see why I am subjected to so much abuse, although we will never know unless the double top secret cabal reveal themselves, which I doubt they will ever do. So why would they place me in such an environment in Liverpool. Well; truthfully I think it is something along the lines of the Wisdom of Solomon. You should all be aware of the story where Solomon is faced with two women who each claim to have given birth to a baby and each want to be awarded custody of the child. I shall not tell you the outcome of the story just in case Russell Crowe is about to make a film about it and I could ruin the plot for you.
The main question, I was going to say when you are locked in a room with a naked man wrecking the place, however I shall not, as the main question then is how do I survive this? For many of the people supported to live in the community the main question concerns the balance of rights, already highlighted by one member of the Illuminati, Colonialist. I would say that without a doubt every single person had the right to live in their own community but I didn’t think that enough was in place to protect the rights of those already in the community. And these questions were raised in so many different environments. Take for example one young lady who was supported to live in the community, she was a black woman so social services decided that she should live in Toxteth, an area in Liverpool where the local population would have been mostly black people. It wasn’t the environment or locality where she had grown up, before being sent off to a lunatic asylum, but they felt that because she was black she would fit in.
Ever since the riots in Toxteth in 1981 the area had gained a certain reputation for being a little on the rough side. Truthfully it can be quite an intimidating place with gangs of youths hanging about looking for something to do. We would be trying to support this individual young lady to live as normal a life as possible, but any time she saw a black person out on the street she would begin screaming, “Why don’t you fuck off back to where you belong you black bastard!’ This was not the only statement she would come out with and I often wondered not just why, but where, she had learned such behaviour. I could only assume she was repeating what had been said to her. But that was only one question, or problem, I had with the decision for her to enjoy her equal rights and live in the community. She was a self-harmer. Again, self-harm is a very interesting area to learn about, understanding it may not be so easy, but it happens, and therefore has to be dealt with.
Normally, well; I would think that normally if any one of you came across a person slicing their fore arms or legs you would immediately try to stop them. But we were told that as her self-harm was a personal form of release if we tried to stop her harming herself we would be guilty of abuse. So we had to ensure that she had clean razor blades and dressings available and accept her behaviour as normal. This, I promise you, is as difficult, if not more difficult, than being locked in a room with a man suffering so much stress that he can only express himself by trying to destroy everything within his world, with that sometimes including you yourself. Because it was difficult to find females to work with this young lady most of her team were male. Although we could ‘handle,‘ it, I don’t think one of us condoned the practise or enjoyed having to sit through it. There should have been a fully qualified nurse there and not some fellow who could hopefully talk his way out of starting another inner city riot, time and time again.
For me it was like being in a Stephen King movie or book. She would sit there and draw the blade across her skin while staring you in the eye. I often wondered if she was trying to shock me or was she looking for this ‘release’ we had been told about. Every time the blade sliced in to her flesh I prayed that she wouldn’t hit a major artery or decide to have a go at me. When I watch something like The Exorcist I feel like it was Regan I was sitting opposite with these eyes staring through me. I do feel that these people needed specialist care and not people who could, ‘handle,’ it. There were some clever people involved in all of this and I was quite excited that I was about to meet one of the world leaders. John O Brien, an American fellow from America, is a pioneer and leading light in the field of learning disabilities. John was not just coming to England but he was coming to Natural Breaks. I was so looking forward to meeting him.
The people supported were very complex and I felt that the standard of staff employed was not high enough. It was early days and everyone was still learning. Natural Breaks had supported the first two people with learning disabilities to move in to their own home, from a long term mental asylum. This was a big step and quite naturally people wanted to boast about their success. The local newspaper the Liverpool Echo covered the story even offered colour photos of the two men outside their bungalow on the then relatively new Croxteth estate. It hadn’t crossed anyone’s mind that the local burglars would be reading the local newspaper, although one month later, after the house had been burgled and ransacked twice, they decided not to publicise any more successes.
In fact I was asked to attend an internal interview for that house as the team wanted me to work with them. It was regarded as the best position within Natural Breaks, a quiet and pleasant place to work. Although I was being paid more than your average support staff because I, along with a handful of others, was at the more extreme end of the scale, this house was regarded to be a bit of a bonus. They had plenty of money and a lovely brand new car. At the first staff meeting I was asked if I would like to take them out on regular drives as they really enjoyed sitting in the rear of the car watching scenery slide by. By drives I mean in and around North Welsh Wales and the Lake District. I was back to my rich blond nymphomaniac with her own pub type job. So as I spent many a day driving through wonderful mountain scenery, my two passengers in the back laughed and smiled and relaxed and appeared to be happy. I was happy to have all the time in the world just to drive and think, what would Solomon do about all this?