Escape from the City of the Paedophile Freemasons. Illuminati Paedo Nest Discovered in Casablanca, Morocco.

And so it continues it seems, my engagement with the Illuminati will never end, nor my endless struggle against their insidious and invasive mind control. But, I win again, and I'm free and clear and have escaped from their clutches once again, sanity intact. No voices in my head, no cold chills, no demons and no fear. Just a ton more raw Illuminati data which I am presently putting together in the form of a new book which should be available on this website within a couple of months.

It was during my second year in Casablanca that the insidious nature and extent of the progress of infiltration of the Illuminati within Moroccan society was revealed to me. 

The language centre I worked at is a sort of Illuminati node-point or hub within the community, where Illuminati people meet and help confuse, disturb and ultimately inculcate foreign and domestic English teachers into the Freemasons/Eastern Star organisations. No doubt they probably also seek out other people among the students from the professional classes to draw into their network.

During the first year I had suspected that there were some agents of Freemasonry, and/or some spooks or 'something' working at the centre. This was after all an American cultural association called The American Language Center, run by the US State Department, in the heart of the economic capital of a country of an ethnic culture with which America was presently fighting wars on at least four international fronts. There was bound to be 'something' going on.

At the time of writing the USA had moved from overt war, as a result of public disapproval and refusal to condone military led regime-change in countries like Syria and had moved to a state of proxy war using Saudi and US trained and funded mercenaries such as ISIS in Syria and Iraq and had previously conquered Afghanistan into an uneasy unsettled state of settled anarchy. Of course, the US’s long term plans will eventually end with war against Iran, and this programme was revealed some years ago by General Wesley Clark. The agenda seems to be going according to plan since the alternatives offered to the American electorate look set to be either Hilary or Trump and both of them would clearly be more than happy to wage war on Iran under the flimsiest of pretexts.

The ostensible purpose of all this is population control. They feel they need to reduce the population drastically and this is the carrot of reason which the Illuminati agents 'dangled' before me. Since they knew they couldn't appeal to my avarice or racism (of which I have none) then they thought they could appeal to my conscience and make war and destruction an issue of 'moral conscience' by claiming that something has to be done to control the human population on Earth. I suspect someone like Bill Gates was sold into a similar lie and he bought it. Which is why he's rich and presently bankrolling a 3rd world depopulation agenda.

I have no fear about revealing this information, because simply for me their daily provocations had become so intolerable that I became determined to go on the offensive and expose as much as I can about who and what they are and what I now know about them.

When opposing them, their agents will use various techniques to oppose you and destabilize you. They will organise and mass together in groups to attempt to destroy you and your character.

In my first year, a man working at the centre who I suspected of being ‘one of them’ would often ask me if I was going to stay another year. In fact quite a few people at the centre seemed interested in this and I read something behind their eyes. The first year they keep you at arm's length, the second year they try to 'bring you in'. This is why they were so eager to know my intentions, they had to prepare my training.

The gentleman was one of their typical agents: a former director at one of the centres and a man with his fingers in many pies, he like so many of them (if not all Illuminati freemasons) suffered from insomnia, and would under conditions of tiredness, exhibit nervous ticks which indicated some mental disorder or inner instability. In fact psychological disorders seem to be the thing these people all share. It was certainly the case with my MI6 mentor in Tokyo who first introduced me to this whole unpleasant shadowy underworld.

But at this point our whole idea of psychological disorder no longer has any meaning. These guys literally exist in a different dimension. Mind reading, hearing voices, astral projection, you name it these people can do it, and do it consistently, easily and on demand. They have totally weaponised the human psychic ability and the sheer shock and surprise of them having this ability in the first place, is one of their greatest and most carefully concealed weapons. You heard it here first. These Illuminati guys weaponised psychic ability a long time ago, and all the while the media and society try to pretend none of it exists: all the better for the Illuminati to shock you with my dear, said the big bad wolf, when the time is right.

Then along came a middle aged British teacher trying to get a job at the centre. I suspected him straightaway as a British MI6 type come to check on me, either becoming aware of me through my activity on the David Icke forum, my own blog or indeed, an attempt to reestablish the first contact which had started in Japan and continued in London.

Personally I didn’t like the idea of a British spooks spooking about trying to recruit me, and nor did the school it seemed as he was given lessons to ‘test his mettle’ in which the students were openly hostile and actually complained about him to the school management. I later learned that this is a tactic which is used by the school to get rid of people who are not 'on the level' or who refuse to join the Freemasons/Eastern Star and since of course, your heroic narrator would rather be dead than Mason Smeg, I eventually found myself on the receiving end of this workplace gang stalking and mass organised harassment towards the end of my second year when it became clear I had no intention of joining Freemasonry.

I am quite glad that the attack dogs were unleashed in his case at least, and he was sent packing, but as a parting blow he got me alone and said to me confidentially and with a slight tone of menace: ‘you’re in deep now’ and he talked to me without looking me in the eye, looking directly over my right shoulder while saying this, which I thought was weird and I made to get away but he tried to fix his gaze on mine and hypnotise me, first by projecting his will, which failed, then he started saying some nonsense words and pulling strange faces, in order to hypnotise me through confusion, however I'm not easily confused but as I tried to get away I found that I had to back away and circle around him to actually physically break free of whatever weird MI6 spook techniques he was using on me, and I finally escaped his thrall with a dismissive ‘alright mate’. As I moved away he made a final desperate offer to let me use an appartment rent free, but I wanted nothing to do with him or his offers, besides I had a fantastic appartment already.

Seriously, these guys are weird but they do have some sneaky psyche tricks up their sleeves, hypnosis, disorientation. But I've seen the light, I see it all coming a mile off and my mind is made of steel.

There was another teacher, a Moroccan, with whom I was initially quite friendly until I realized that the only way to truly be his friend was to follow him into the abyss. We were out drinking when this man, to my surprise and alarm, invited a very pale and, when I shook her hand, deathly cold young prostitute over to me and he said ‘let’s have a bit of fun’ which reminded me of the Raymond Ketland case where a fellow Mason is introduced to an underage girl by saying ‘would you like to have a bit of fun?’ 

Quite how much fun I would have with a living dead pale cold prostitute I do not know. None in any case because I have no interest in prostitutes, living or dead, but it’s clear that a Mason’s idea of fun is very different to my own.

So I was basically working in an environment where most of the staff around me were hugely dysfunctional in one way or another, if not actual sociopaths devoid of emotion and fending off their psychosis by indulging their physical senses in food, sex or alcohol, not just in a normal healthy way, but in an excessive desperate and pathological manner.

I looked around and spotted the pimps at this bar. Obviously they were Morrocan Jews. With travelling one learns to recognise certain ethnic characteristics and the same ability is practised by Turkish carpet sellers in Istanbul who can take one look at you and speak in the appropriate language, though weirdly they often thought I was German. Anyway in Morocco, Berber Moroccans run the alcohol industry while Jewish Moroccans run the sex industry.

I also went to another bar in Ain Diab (the ritzy seaside suburb of Casablanca) and got chatting with the owner (who was also Jewish) and he seemed to have a sideline in sending Moroccan girls to Europe as 'exotic dancers'. I found this out because there was a girl there who I got talking to who told me he had arranged her to be sent to Switzerland as a dancer. She seemed to think it was for the best but I have no doubt she would soon become a sex slave of the Freemasons when she got out there, if she wasn't already. I tried to warn her about the Illuminati and gave her my website, but she probably already knew all about them, since she was probably part of them and a semi-willing slave.

I'll leave you to form your own conclusions about sending young naive Moroccan girls out to Europe to be 'dancers' in nightclubs, but here in the west we tend to call that sort of thing Human-Trafficking. But in Morocco it's just Jews doing business.

Anyway, back to school and as time went on their attempts to destabilize me to join their mutual psychosis slowly manifested. First at the British Council while training to be an IELTS examiner, the old ‘ambush and surprise’ technique was deployed, except I wasn’t very surprised any more as I had been a victim of this technique too many times for it too have any effect, and even the attempt to trigger a trance using a high pitched buzz I had already experienced and used Zen meditation to blank out the feelings of anxiety it was designed to invoke.

So basically it was revealed to me that several of my colleagues from work were part of ‘something’ and this became obvious from the coordinated psychological attacks and games they then started playing on me. At one point in what I assume was an unguarded moment, but may well have been part of the script, one colleague got me alone and said ‘you shouldn’t have to join if you don’t want to, they shouldn’t force you’ they seemed sincere enough but then it’s very hard to tell with these people.

The most disturbing and insidious aspect of the Illuminati is that they are also involving children in their unpleasant schemes. They use the children of the families they control to attempt to compromise other people and hence drag more poor lost souls into their hell. I have been a teacher abroad for many years and I always noticed there were a few girls, of between 14-15 years old who were often excessively flirtatious with teachers and would often say sexually loaded things. 

In Turkey there was a 14 year old girl whose parents were both judges who used to repeatedly tell me she loved me and on one occasion cupped her breast and pulled her jumper tight to show off the shape of her nipple. WTF right? At the time I thought nothing of this except perhaps it was a bit weird, but it started to occur to me that this girl was prematurely sexualized and that her parents both being judges and likely Freemasons and part of the establishment, meant that they were somehow responsible for her premature sexualisation.

It was the first time it occurred to me that perhaps there was something strange about the elite and their families. Subsequently, in Tokyo in particular, there was a young 15 year old Japanese girl who would come into my one-on-one lesson and flirt very provocatively with me, pulling at her blouse and making sexually suggestive noises. I just tried to ignore all the crazy shit and tried to get on with teaching her English. I have written an allegorical story about that weird experience in Tokyo with a Mr Paul Bernard at the Gaigo English school because if I were to lay out the things that really happened you probably wouldn’t believe it. Basically this was my introduction into the world of the Illuminati and I was made an explicit offer to join the Masons and become a spy while in Tokyo and who knows what else besides, and 'they' would be able to make me a famous writer. I suppose they wanted to compromise me with a 15 year old girl so they'd be able to control me for the rest of my life.
That was really a case of reality being indistinguishable from fantasy and fiction. On the subsequent times I had encountered strangely sexualized teenagers while teaching, there was something unmistakable ‘fake’ or ‘contrived’ about their performance, and at the time I thought they were testing me to see if I was a paedophile. In fact I now realize that what they were really doing was ‘offering’ me young girls to have sex with.

Rest assured I never did and never even thought about it. I just ended up antagonizing my boss with my surly uncooperative and angry attitude at all this bullshit, then I was either fired or quit.

But now I realize that they were offering me a young teenager to have, so they would then own me and make me part of their Freemasonry. The most recent occasion in Casablanca, a girl who was also 15 years old told me and the class that she once had a dream where she peed all over herself. 

 I just looked at her and was unimpressed. Normal little girls don’t recount such weird stories, but weird Illuminati honey-trap girls do. This has genuinely only occurred to me recently, that this is what they were doing. Evil maniacs. I therefore suggest as a result of this some international TEFL schools in countries around the world are possibly a hot-bed of paedophilia entrapment and international secret services ops. In fact some international paedophiles have precisely operated within the context of the international teaching circuit and I will provide some references at the bottom of this article.

As a teacher this is what I have become aware of. But it takes two to tango and the Illuminati parents who farm their children out are as guilty as the dupe or sucker who gets drawn into their Illuminati web. For me this explains why many celebrities don’t have children of their own despite being happily married. They know they have to give up their children to the Illuminati to do with as they please.

I suspect that anyone in the Illuminati Freemasons, OTO or Wicca groups, is obliged to farm out their children for the sake of The Family. I fact I have no doubt about it.

After coming out from the centre in Casablanca after an evening lesson one of the male students, in his late 20's, caught up to me and laughed at how difficult it was for him to concentrate with so many pretty 15 year old girls in the class. Why he had chased after me just to make this weird and fatuous comment immediately raised my suspicions. I looked at him and said: ‘Mate, 15 ain’t pretty, it’s under-age…goodnight’ and I strode off.

What with the suggestive antics of some of the students and members of staff who I have seen with their arms around young girls I would not be entirely surprised, indeed I am starting to actively suspect there may be a Masonic paedophile ring operating at this language centre in Casablanca, and the former director, since he effectively seemed to have abandoned all attempt at controlling this activity in the centre, was culpable and responsible through neglect. 

Though worryingly I wonder if there was more to it after all, the most infamous US paedophile in the history of international teaching: William Vahey, worked for the US State Department, and the language centre where I worked in Casablanca was similarly run by the US State Department. Was there more to it?  Since I seemed to be noticing something odd going on regarding suggestive comments and strange sexual provocations coordinated by shifty and unpleasant Freemason students, then I wonder if anything has really changed and anywhere Freemasons are to be found then so too is paedophilia and attempted entrapment, blackmail and control. I will also add that the previous director of the centre and also the present one, are both Freemasons, as are a large proportion of the foreign and Moroccan teaching staff, and they would often ostentatiously display their silly Masonic handshakes under my nose.

During the summer I was assigned a course with about 15 students. There was a man called Ousama who sat himself nearest to me, to my right, and wore a Masonic Square and Compass ring on his right hand. 

He would do very little of what I asked him in the lessons, and would feign incomprehension and would force me to repeat myself several times. I would usually let him know I knew he was messing about and that he could drop the act. He also would not speak to anyone in the class and would just sit at his desk, fixedly staring at me. There was also an older student, a man who claimed to have instigated a campus riot in the French town Toulouse when he was a student there, he also exposed his backside to the young female students in the class. I reported this to the present director and the school secretary but it didn't seem to bother them. Not as much as it should have. Were they part of it? This weird programme of weird sexual shenanigans involving young people? I wish it weren't so. They seemed to think I was odd for reporting it and making a fuss over nothing. Was I being coached to accept this kind of stuff as 'normal' then? And learn not to react or report these people?

This wouldn’t have been such an issue, were it not for the fact that he was clearly communicating with at least two other girls in the classroom, one of whom was 16 the other was 15, and was ordering them with gestures to ‘tempt’ me with their bodies. I know this because I would see him making a gesture and a look then suddenly I would notice that the girl in front of me at the back of the classroom and the girl to my left at the side of the room had suddenly lowered their blouses. At one point I caught the eye of a girl (who apart from being farmed out to the Illuminati) seemed like a nice person. I caught her eye and she suddenly coloured red and I saw instantly that she was being made to do it and it was against her will, and she knew that I knew, but somehow she and the other girl, seem obliged to do it by this creepy guy with the Mason's ring.

I realized once I’d spotted this that the same thing was happening in the afternoon class I was teaching. There was a creepy old man and a creepy woman, they seemed cold and dead inside, classic Freemasons, and they seemed to chaperone a strange young boy of about 14 who would always be smiling at me and giving me these suggestive looks and trying to create an attachment to me. It's hard to explain, but basically it was the feeling you get and the behaviour of someone who really fancies you. Ok, some young boys are that way inclined or whatever and they may develop a crush on a male teacher, but the kicker was the two creepy middle aged chaperones he had. They deliberately kept him away from the other students and sat either side of him, controlling all his interactions. It seemed similarly that they were controlling and encouraging his strange behaviour towards myself.

I did ask him once why he kept smiling at me, it wasn’t particularly disturbing because I’m not a paedophile and as a result, a young boy smiling at me suggestively doesn’t turn me on, but clearly children should not be used and farmed out by these creepy Illuminati people. The creepy middle aged guy then made a loud noise with his throat. Like an admonition that I shouldn't ask him that question.

I would also notice throughout that lesson that among the 13-14 year old girls who made up that class, there would be the sudden appearance of visible bra-straps and bare shoulders (pretty surprising in a Muslim country) blouses would be lowered and shirts opened in a desperate attempt for the girls to show me as much of their chests as was feasible in the circumstances. And all the while the creepy old man was there making notes.

So it seemed to me they were trying to tempt me to join them by ‘proffering’ me young people and this is how so many people in the media and politics get involved in paedophilia, some sick group of Masons creates a set up just like the one I have been describing, offering them flirtatious and apparently 'available' young teenagers. I also noticed a hand-sign from the 15 year old girl which I researched and it turns out she was doing the Miley Cyrus, cunnilingus sign at me, two fingers over the mouth with a tongue sticking out.

Shhhhhhhh Keep paedophilia a secret!

I do not know whether this sort of attack, recruitment or entrapment or whatever has come about because of my blog and the anti-Masonic, anti-Illuminati exposure which I have been doing these past 10 years, I actually doubt it, I think some people know who I am but information amongst these people is so jealously guarded and compartmentalized that they would all prefer to fumble in the dark pulling in different directions than actually give everyone the same accurate information. And as such they knew nothing about me and little suspected all their horrible little Freemasonic paedo games would end up getting written up and exposed.

Any information is valuable to them and they would prefer to see an operation fail than give out their most important secrets. I think I have little to fear from their agents however. Those in Illuminated consciousness tend to be those who need to be fearful, not those of us standing in the light of truth. They seem to be very accident prone due to their lack of ability to focus their will as a result of the chemical imbalance in their brains which produces their condition. I reported the girl who made the cunnilingus gesture at me, and again the then director and school secretary didn't seem to find it strange or concerning in any way. 

The following lesson this same girl came into the class on crutches with a broken foot in a cast, caused by falling down the stairs apparently. Was that even real or simulated? You never know with these people. Was it an example of fast acting karma? Or just typical of these bumbling accident prone illuminated people who stumble around in 'pathless waste' having car crashes and all sorts of domestic accidents.

Not quite sure how much of a threat or how much of a sexual provocation a hobbling hopping underage Illuminatus could be. I dunno. I guess if I was a paedo, or was subconsciously attracted to underage girls, or had the Illuminati demons inside me, then I might be in trouble. As it is, the whole thing sickens me hugely and just gives me more ammunition to help take these scum schizo perverts down. 

It's sick but at the same time laughable. Me, a world class international Illuminati-hunter dedicated to exposing them and their methods, sat in a room full of these people and the best they can do is pretend they don’t understand what I’m saying in an attempt to annoy me, or try to show me their underage tits and make sexually suggestive hand gestures to me.

However it’s quite sad really. I’m sure she was a nice girl at one point in her life, until her Freemason father or Witchy Moroccan mother got her orders to ‘farm her out’ for some unpleasant purpose or other. Since that day the evil is in her and she is part of the force of darkness, hobbling along on crutches. 

For me nothing better encapsulates ‘evil’ than this image, hopeless, wounded but determined, and that is the one thing these people have, they just don’t stop trying to drag you into their evil, degenerate world. 

We can only hope that one day Freemasonry is smashed forever and no more young girls and boys are forced to participate in these strange Freemasonic paedophile activities. 

http://www.ajarn.com/blogs/phil-roeland/the-growing-pains-of-the-tefl-industry

The reason for his scathing attack was the arrest of a Canadian teacher formerly working in Thailand, John Wrenshall, involved in an international paedophile ring. In a personal twist of fate, this nabbed pedophile used to be his boss, mentor and friend while Steve was working in Bangkok. Consequently, Steve felt betrayed and thought it necessary to vilify the whole EFL industry, calling it ad nauseam a stinking, putrid corpse, apparently forgetting he has been part of this rotting cadaver for years.

http://teflblacklist.blogspot.co.uk/2007/10/tarred-with-same-brush.html

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Tarred With the Same Brush?
The Daily Telegraph had this to say about the arrest of the suspected paedophile Christopher Neil:
According to Rosalind Prober of Beyond Boarders, a Canadian Organisation that combats child sex tourism, many offenders use teaching as a cover for their activities.
"The children are sitting ducks. This is their teacher. This is someone you trust and tells you what to do," she said.
"You very quickly get trapped. There is such a level of control and power by a teacher. It’s multiplied when it comes to a foreign teacher."
She published a conversation conducted on the internet by two Western teachers in the region.
"I am having a wonderful time with them sexually. Some of them are very interesting. There is never a dull moment," wrote one of them. "Last night, four boys spent the night and I like all four of them." 

http://www.elgazette.com/news/item/177-vahey-preyed-on-us-funded-school-network.html

WILLIAM VAHEY, a paedophile and international school teacher who committed suicide after pictures of his victims were passed to the FBI, spent most of his forty-year career working for American international schools affiliated to the US State Department, Gazette research reveals. Despite having a conviction in California for child abuse in 1969, Vahey evaded discovery because US overseas schools are barred by law from accessing FBI criminal records.

http://www.elgazette.com/item/240-sex-offender-found-teaching-in-cambodia.html

In 2014 Prestidge went from Spain to Cambodia, where he taught maths and English at Hope International School, the Phnom Penh Postreported. Prestidge was arrested after the British embassy alerted Cambodian police to his presence in September, making him the fourth foreign teacher arrested as part of a child abuse investigation in Cambodia in 2015. The Cambodia Daily confirmed that Prestidge was deported to the UK on 28 October.

David Icke Forum....The Mighty Unwashed OTO Scruff and the stInk of Masonic infilitration.

UPDATE

Saying a certain group of people killed Jesus, now gets you banned on the David Icke forum

But does anyone even care about the Icke forum and their pioneering efforts over the years at curtailing free-speech way way in advance of any so-called 'hate-speech' laws?

Probably not.

But glad I've got the 'official line' in writing.

GOTCHA!

So welcome to irrelevance David Icke and his so called forum.

You fell at the final hurdle and others will carry on without you and the politically correct spooks you apparently allowed to control your forum over the years.

 

UPDATED:

Keeps saying he's leaving but like a stubborn turd you know he will float back up and stink up the place again banning everyone.

He banned me (again) for calling him a spook in a private message.

He deleted one of my posts where I quoted the New Testament which of course is clear about who killed Jesus.

So he wrote back to me and quoted the POPE at me.....

Fancy that? The David Icke webmaster quoting the fucking Pope as if he's the voice of reason....

Just who the fuck is Ink/Lake and how much of a spook/freemason/stray grifting ratbag is he?

Here is the exchange, just for the sake of internet drama but also to raise a valid point... Who the fuck sides with the Pope, and quotes him as an authority on who killed Jesus?

There's a cognitive dissonance there....... When someone doesn't seem to quite be the person they claim to be.....their actions betray the lip-service... the pretense that he is 'one of us' a truth-seeker....an advocate for free-speech, then quotes the Vatican, the Pope and the Guardian at someone to try to assert some kind of authority over them.... and tells them.....2 + 2 = 5 because the Pope and The Guardian say so.

Either someone who is grifting for a wage or some kind of embedded spook operative intent on destroying the Icke forum from within:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ANYWAY, END OF UPDATE.

 

If anyone knows The Mighty Zhiba's real name then let me know. Posterity and history needs to know who this OTO agent really is...

The Mighty Zhiba, photographed in his true form, with an unsuspecting David Icke.

Well, after nearly 10 years of life on the David Icke Forum, from the old and Great one to the new and infiltrated one, it seems to have all come to end with the swinging ban-hammer of the The Mightily Unwashed Zhiba. The unwashed one has no doubt been feeling thwarted for years basking in the shadow of the forum members who seem able to contribute so much of value while power manipulators like The Unwashed One, the Scottish Pillock, and pretty much all of the David Icke moderation team in their dark Aussie OTO lairs, seem to have nothing to say or contribute except the ability to form a self protective clique which moderates, sanctions and bans members based on its own prejudices and who kisses their asses the most.

The fundamental problem with the David Icke Forum is that it is not run for the interests of its members, nor indeed of the truth movement, or even David Icke himself, but for the members the moderating team agree with. I never precisely learned how much and whose ass you were supposed to kiss over there, but I suspect The Mightily Unwashed Zhiba was the prime ass you were suppose to kiss. Apparently he worked his way through several female forummers who were more than happy to kiss his ass, but he left one girl feeling he had lied to her to get sex and used her. Basic scumbag is basic.

There is something strange about this man, I have been exposed to his words and his power-crazed moderating style, where he once gave warning to and even temporarily suspended one member, Zymon because he disagreed with him on a thread and I suspect that The Unwashed One was deeply jealous of the attention Zymon had been receiving on the forum. And he still is. 

I know The Mightily Unwashed One and remember reading his invective PM's against Zymon when we were both moderators, who he personally saw it as his mission to 'bring down'. Indeed this is why he had to change his name from Merlin Cove (cove is a masonic/Wiccan term of affection for a fellow member) to The Unwashed Zhiba, because he had made such a bad impression as a moderator for the David Icke forum with his obvious online persecution of Zymon under the guise of Merlin Cove, that he had to come back as someone else. Why? Why was this tolerated? How can a moderator be a shameful asshole to someone, lose his moderator privileges, then change his name and come back as someone else and regain those privileges merely because he has a new name. It's still the same old vindictive cunt you didn't trust with moderation before so why trust him again? What has this creep got over these people?

What really seems to upset the guy is people who are smarter than him, and that includes most of the forum. Zymon was a bit of a fruit cake but he was still smarter than Zhiba and Zhiba knows it. I suspect he still seethes with it even now. Other people's research and continued valuable contributions to the internet discussion community while he can contribute nothing. But I also wonder why it is that these moderators seem never to say anything contentious or even interesting. All their contributions appear to be trying to set up little cliques and just patting each other on the back. They are nice to their friends who have either licked The Mighty Unwashed One's arse the requisite ritualistic number of times, or else, they are of the same Wiccan Pagan mindset which I am absolutely 100 percent sure is what is behind the moderating team of the David Icke Forum.

I am almost certainly convinced that they all love Aleister Crowley, in fact it is obvious. What is also obvious is that they harbor a deep and unnaturally strong hatred of Christianity, just like their crazed dead paedophile leader. But not only do they hate Christianity, but they also hate anything to do with God. God is a concept which offends the moderators of the David Icke forum and if you engage the forum with discussions about God, religion ethics and morality, then you will very quickly become a personal enemy to the DI moderators.

I myself was even briefly a moderator at the DI Forum, though I knew I was still their enemy. Sean allowed me to be moderator despite the objections of the team apparently, saying it would upset some people such as the Freemason forum members that someone as partisan as me become a moderator. Why? It's the DI Forum? We're supposed to be partisan! While behind the scenes I was so surprised at how much contempt the moderating team seems to have for the board members. It was really an unpleasant atmosphere really. Just endless posts in the moderator's board about who is being a twat and who they all want to ban next. This tone appears to have been set by Alison (I AM) who frankly is a very unpleasant person, literally. She never had anything nice to say about anyone on that forum. Except if is someone kissed her ass but no-one did because she was so odious, except of course for all the other moderators.

Such a pervasive contempt for forum members while they all basked in their little clique as moderators, feeling special and powerful, is not what the forum should ever have been about But that isn't what DI moderating is all about. It isn't about supporting the truth movement to mobilise and share information. The DI Forum moderators exist to propagate a secret OTO/Wiccan belief system, recruiting members who share their pagan religious beliefs to be moderators and perpetuate the control of the forum by agents working for pagan cults. That's why nothing has changed on the forum since Limelady left and Alison took over. It's the same ethos which has run the forum since Limelady left and Alison and her loyal straggly unwashed lap-dog started to move in to control the show. She and her main man The Mighty Unwashed seem to be the pagan heart of the forum and a forum member must avoid attacking paganism, in order not to get banned on that forum. 

The casualty list of that forum is long indeed. They even quickly conspired against an ACTUAL Illuminati experiencee called The Perfect One who actually WAS being approached for sexual services through her Illuminati husband. She immediately became an enemy to the forum team. It was weird. I mean, this is what we're all supposed to be here for isn't it? To find out about the Illuminati? But apparently, no, not on the David Icke forum. They ban you. And she was just hit by more and more points after being tag teamed by other forum members, no doubt following the same Illuminati views as the Unwashed One and the Illuminati Crowleyite mod team, and finding any pretext upon which to silence her. And so they did, and perhaps at this point, the forum began its agenda of 'truth control' under the Mightily Unwashed One.

SeanX for instance seems to be the favoured 'special child' of the Forum and although he recently departed the forum in a cloud of abuse against David Icke, he will no doubt be back with the permission of the Mightily Unwashed.  What is with the relationship between SeanX and The Mighty Unwashed? Why did they both disappear in a cloud of invective against everyone calling everyone racists and attacking David Icke as a racist, then they magically reappeared a few months with a new name, except now instead of being merely Unwashed Zhiba was now the Mighty Unwashed Zhiba. Why were SeanX and The Mighty Unwashed apparently joined at the hip and would tag team each other in threads, or SeanX would insult someone and wind them up, then instantly get his Mightily Unwashed partner in to deliver a spanking, all eventually leading up to a ban, likely fomented between Sean and Unwashed. Perhaps SeanX's love of Aleister Crowley has something to do with the loyal protection of brother Zhiba. A fellow Crowleytard on a solo mission to stamp on anything or anyone good on the Forum he controls.

And of course the less said about the fat druid and his love affair with Crowley and boys the better. Why does he reign supreme on the Forum? Crowley. Love Crowley and you automatically become a friend of the moderating team. But why has this happened? Icke doesn't love Crowley and was the voice I heard loudest exposing him. So does Icke control the forum? It doesn't look like it. It looks like a female chapter of the OTO somehow has taken control of David Icke's forum.

What do they all get up to behind the scenes? Would it have anything to do with those little camping trips in Wiltshire they use to screen people and decide whether to allow them unto the 'inner circle'? They go pottering about looking for Crop circles in the summer and if you manage to buy all the bullshit they talk while you're there, then they might let you in. Personally I never bought it. I met some of the DI Forum moderators in person and basically they struck me as a sort of aliens cult who probably all prayed to 'The Goddess'.

The basic fact is that in order not to be banned on the David Icke forum you have to be friends with the moderators. But in order to be their friends you must kiss their arse and believe in their mishmash cult of aliens and paganism. Anything else will get you busted eventually.

And that's just what happens. Right now on the DI Forum there are virtually no members who posted as long as I have, who have escaped the ban-hammer. The DI Forum is like a snake continually eating itself. That's why it never grows and only gets smaller, the hunger of the moderators to express their power and ban people is so great that it exceeds the growth of the forum.

I realised some time ago that most of my time spent on the Icke forum involved me either being insulted by a multitude of extremely maladjusted individuals. or just desperately trying to talk to sense into someone who had literally lost their mind and was spouting nonsense.

The whole place just reeks of failure and bitterness now. There's no-one left over there seems even able to crack a joke and lighten things up. 

It's just the ultimate nightmare of leftover freaks who dare not set foot outside the house and have managed to confirm their views to the secret Goddess Matron who controls the DI forum and made the required sacrifice to appease the wrath and narcissism of The Mighty Unwashed philanderer and kissed his secret OTO tattoo on his bare arse.

Very glad to be banned. Somebody pulled the shit needle out of my arm. Thanks to the Unwashed One from kicking me out of the mad-house.

The very fact that it came so quickly indicate that they had been plotting such a thing for a long time. I'm pretty sure they've wanted to ban me for the past five years, though I managed to lose the 10 permanent points I used to have when I became a moderator. However it didn't take long for the OTO shills to find a way to give me more. Usually their tactic is to send someone in to wind me up and insult me, then slap me when I dare to reply. 

Anyway, so long to mediocrity and cyber wankers who have nothing to show for their lives except that satisfaction which comes from stopping other people from speaking. But guys, problem is sooner or later there will be no-one left for you to moderate and no-one for you to exercise your power over. Then the forum will close, and what will you have to show for your efforts? What did you do during the info-war? 

Spent your time banning people and curtailing free speech huh? Funny, kinda sounds like you were working for the enemy all along....... not to mention helping swindling forum members with the People's Voice fiasco to build a nice little nest-egg for Sean Adl to bugger off to America with. And who where the New-Age con-men in America they gave all that money to in order to make the shittest most embarrassing internet television the internet has ever seen? I used to comment about the People's Voice as vociferously as I could as it became clearer and clearer that the whole thing was fucked up, of course you were quickly banned if you dared to raise any questions about what was going on, so I learned to tread lightly.

But those who raised questions about just what was going on behind The People's Voice and where the money was really going, were quickly silenced and banned by The Mightily Unwashed Zhiba. I knew the whole thing had been subverted as soon as it emerged that Peter Tatchell was going to be the first guest interviewed and that was before the thing even aired its first episode. So well done that man. Well done for allowing someone to run-off with all the People's Voice money, whilst you still tried to drum up more donations for their pension fund.

A sordid tale. I'm glad to be out of it at last.



Just something I want to add to this. Recently saw a referral to my blog from this forum post and reading the post through about an illuminati survivor I remember how mods would delete my posts exposing what I knew about Satanism and the Illuminati....If you look you will even see me beg the mods not to delete my posts..... I think it was UFO Chick doing the deleting..... dodgy satanist DIF Mod scum.

 http://forum.davidicke.com/showthread.php?t=245390

Turned into a Lobster: The punishment for being MGTOW.

Warning this article contains SPOILERS for the film The Lobster.

“The first day is a day he would never forget...” This is a MGTOW themed review and analysis of the MGTOW themed film: The Lobster which has just received its unofficial internet release, thanks to the servers at Kick Ass Torrents.

The new paradigm of MGTOW, or Men Going Their Own Way which is merrily consuming You-Tube bandwidth with astonishing alacrity, is a natural human reaction to the ‘war-on-men’ which has been waged for either the last 20 or so years or since Eve’s betrayal of Adam in the garden of Eden. Depends on your politics I guess.
  

It seems to be about 20 years since the Social Justice Marxists started setting-to with real vigour in their mission to destroy society and human civilisation as we know it, in order that it be replaced with an as yet, unknown, New System. 

Ever since Tony Blair was elected in the late 90’s the UK in particular and modern social-reality itself seems to no longer hold any pretence at making sense and there’s clearly something malicious in the corruption, neglect and mismanagement currently fomenting in Britain. I somehow get the impression that since the Iraq war and the death of over a million Iraqis the secret elite rulers of the world have realised they can pretty much do anything they like and noone really has any idea how to stop them.

People’s attitude seems to have changed to resignation as we all just sort of await the next outrage to common-sense and morality to emerge from politics and the media. Whether it’s the murder of David Kelly and Robin Cook for their work trying to prevent the Iraq war or recent revelations about David Cameron having sex with a dead pig’s head. It’s just a catalogue of endless horrors only punctuated by humourless dark absurdities.

There is a sense that anything goes now really, and a possible future where single people are dehumanised and punished until they pair up, marry and contribute taxes and their labour to the monolithic machiney of the state, is probably no more bizarre than anything else which is happening these days.

The film The Lobster won the Jury prize at the 2015 Cannes film festival, a fact which makes me somewhat suspicious as there is always a sense that these prizes and promotions are often used to further the social engineering agenda.

The film presents us with the strange concept of a sort of hotel for singles, like a kind of club 18-30 concentration camp where the male guests are raped, beaten and psychologically abused, and threatened that they will ultimately be transformed into animals if they do not find another partner within 45 days and any escapees are mercilessly hunted down.

Captured singles after a night's hunting in the woods.

The film begins in a shocking manner with a woman shooting a donkey, within the logic of the film this is presumably her ex-husband. Then a cut to Colin Farrell’s character David being thrown out by his wife while her new lover rings impatiently at the doorbell. 

Here we have two of the key concepts of MGTOW being played out. Namely in the first instance, the belief that some women will actively seek to destroy a man once he is of no more use to her, and the behaviour of some women who literally try to destroy their husbands in flagrantly unjust divorce settlements which resemble personal vendettas rather than the amicable termination of a contract; and in the second instance the fact that 80% percent of divorces are instigated by women and in almost all cases it is the man who must move out of the family home, often losing everything he has worked for on the sudden whim of the woman he loved and who he thought loved him.

Whether it is actually true that people are somehow turned into animals is never made clear, except for a bit of dubious exposition from one of the characters. The title of the film is the animal which Colin Farrell’s character had decided he would choose to be turned into (because he says they live for a hundred years and have blue blood like royalty) should his time at the hotel prove unsuccessful.

Upon enrolling into the hotel system he is stripped down to his underwear, has his possessions confiscated and given hotel room 101, a nod to similarly dystopian portrayal of a fascist future George Orwell’s 1984.

What we see in The Lobster may well be a world which exists within the same continuum as 1984. But the film also exists within a sort of post MGTOW world where society has mobilised its forces and human rights have been quashed in an attempt to force apparently reluctant men to pair up with women. The same obligation seems to exist for women, but we observe the film from a masculine viewpoint and it is commonly the men who are punished, humiliated, tortured throughout the duration of the film.

The men in the film show an obvious lack of interest in the opposite sex and a desire to just be left alone to hang out with each-other. It is only through compulsion and the threat of being turned into animals that they force themselves to talk to women, but they seem to have a much better time alone.  

With humorous irony Robert (the fabulous John C Reilly, better known to me as Will Ferrell’s goofy step brother in the film of that name) describes the culminating experience of the hotel “The final ordeal before letting you go and the hardest one.” He is referring to what we would probably know as a honeymoon on a yacht, for many in this day and age something of a romantic ideal but in the post MGTOW world this is described as an ‘ordeal’. And in chilling tones John C Reilly’s character states: 

"15 days of vacation....just a couple alone" as if it were the very worst thing in the world.

Men just wanting to go their own way.

Their interactions with women are forced and the unnatural lengths which they go to in order to show some kind of commonality with the women, including Ben Whishaw’s character John damaging his own nose in order for it to bleed in order to have something in common with and something to talk about with one of the women whose most defining characteristic is that she suffers from nosebleeds.

"What's worse? To die of cold and hunger in the woods. to become an animal that will be killed and eaten by some big animal, or to have a nose-bleed from time to time." 

In another scene Collin Farrell's character desperately tries to strike up a conversation with a female who is coming close to her final day at the hotel. He begins by smiling and commenting that she has nice hair. "I know" she replies simply, then starts revelling in her own hair.

I'm great.

Farrell's character then asks her "How do you like mine?" thinking that he could save her life if only she commented that he too had nice hair and as such they both would have something in common and they could become a couple and she could live. But instead she visibly adjusts her body language, from the obvious happiness and self centred satisfaction at being given a compliment, to folding her arms and looking stern when asked to say something nice about his. She tells him it looks dry but then starts a strange sort of harangue about men with bald hair, and her tone is almost berating and finding fault with him, even though he doesn't have bald hair and will also be unlikely to develop it in later life.

You suck.

The same woman then appears to be on her final day before being transformed into an animal, her 'best friend' reads a letter to her saying she will miss her and when she gets to the city she will never find a friend as faithful and true as she was, the women then slaps her, exposing her all consuming anger and jealousy that she has managed to find a partner while she has not. 

The tragedy is that had this woman merely responded to David with a simple compliment about his own hair then they would have had something in common and as a result would not risk being turned into an animal. In fact she throws herself from her hotel room and dies painfully on the terrace bellow. It simply didn't occur to her even for a second that she could possibly return the compliment to David and she would be saved.

Women... I can't figure them out.

It simply isn't in her nature to do so. And so we see this written on the look of sad confusion on David's face when he offered to give himself to her to save her life if only she could for once not be wholly and so completely self centred. She literally couldn't say something nice to a man to save her own life.

The film explores some of the themes and criticisms of women within the MGTOW world. Their vapidity and the apparent heartlessness with which they treat men who no longer serve their purposes.  One of the women describes her one defining characteristic as ‘her beautiful smile’, seeming to evoke MGTOW’s criticism that women are superficial and obsessed only with appearances. And one of the women is described as ‘having no feelings whatsoever’.

The men are specifically oppressed by women in a variety ways throughout the film. The wonderful Olivia Coleman’s character of gently tyrannical Hotel Commandant accuses Robert of masturbating in his own room and calls him a “A weak and cowardly man.” And threatens that he’d better get used to masturbating not to pictures of naked women but to pictures of horses since he will most likely end up being turned into one for failing to find a partner. He is then brutally punished  having his hand forced into an electric toaster. Presumably so he can longer masturbate.

But that's my wanking hand!

                                                      

"If you encounter any problems, any tensions, any arguing that you cannot resolve yourselves, you will be assigned children. That usually helps.."

Colin Farrell’s character David is also apparently, raped on several occasions. He is ordered to remove his trousers despite his protestation: "Can we not do this today, it’s awful."

But he is told that “I’m afraid you have to do it and you have no idea how much it helps you psychologically in the search for a partner.”

After the fact the hotel maid is seen readjusting her clothes after some kind of sexual operation and David is told in a scientific manner: “Today you became erect quicker than on other days”

In another scene, the women in the audience are shown a basic role-play where  women without men are shown as being vulnerable and prone to sexual attack by single predatory males.

Ben Whishaw first appeared on television as Pingu, the abused and much humiliated computer geek in  Chris Morris' and Charlie Brooker’s satire of Shoreditch wankers: Nathan Barley and watching this film I had to check that it wasn’t written by Chris Morris as it has something of the satirical prescience which Morris is known for. However it is getting harder and harder for satire to keep up with just how insane the world is actually becoming and I get the feeling that this film may be less a satire but more a shape of things to come and the decline in men getting married or having any kinds of relationships with women increases causing a potential population decrease and resultant massive socio-economic imbalance within the western world.

"It's no coincidence that the targets are shaped as single people and not couples."

Colin Farrell's character in a desperate attempt to reach one of the women becomes deliberately cold and calous since he has noticed that being nice to women and complimenting them seemed ineffective. As a resut of acting like a callous and sociopathic caveman type of man he manages to ingratiate himself with the woman who has no feelings and thus prevent himself from being turned into an animal. 

It is only when she pretends to be choking to death and he does nothing to save her, that she realises that he has the required Alpha male characteristics and is the right man for her. She then kills his brother (who is a dog) but because he shows emotion she deems him unsuitable and goes to report him to the hotel manager.  

Pyscho-woman...Quest-ce-que-c'est?

The film quickly loses its way after the first 45 minutes however and becomes a dissordered mess once the chemistry of Colin Farrel, John C Reilly and Ben Whishaw is broken up. In addition the women's dialogue and the deliberately frozen, stilted performances, which while perhaps appealing to artistic sensibilities, do not really suit story-telling and an enjoyable movie experience. 

I suspect that this effect is deliberate and intended to represent the difficult and alien nature of the male-female relationships and how perhaps, men and women can never really understand each-other, and that the only thing we have in common might be the occasional nose bleed after all.

Egypt: A pretty nice place when there aren't bombs going off.

                                                   

  The second remedy.

It was early evening in Cairo, summer was about to come into full custody of this sprawling dusty child of the sun. But in the meantime there were the last few remaining days of reasonable spring weather when one could still walk about town for a couple of hours without requiring  an oxygen tent and an ice bath afterwards.  Soon it would be hot enough to make the piles of garbage hum and stink, creeping through the city spreading dirty fingers through the street. Then it would be hotter still, and the garbage would become fossilised by heat, desiccated like ancient relics, even the flies would desperately start to seek the cool awning of the ahwa and drink tea with the dried out and dusty Egyptians, who smoked cigarettes and drank tea to keep themselves from being swept away by the dry hot wind.

There were only two remedies, at least for this particular traveller against the heat of the city, one, was taking an overnight bus from Cairo bus station to anywhere where there was an abundance of cool water, and  spend a couple of days splashing around hiding from the heat behind the shadows of cool palms.

The other was to drink beer. Any beer would do, though in preference not the stuff that made your eyeballs hurt, but even this one eventually grew accustomed to.

For maximum relief, both of these remedies should be taken together or at least within a couple of hours of each other. In this instance the cool and deep pools of the Siwa oasis formed the perfect tonic; an antidote to Cairo’s millennia of dust piled upon dust, and to the noise of the cars which seemed to own nearly every square metre of this over-tired city.

The cars slept only for about three hours a week, on Friday morning between four am and seven AM when a kind of heavenly peace would descend on the whole of Cairo and all would be quiet. The cars would be resting, piously celebrating the Sabat inside their garages and outside apartment blocks. Still and serene, for a few hours at least. And that was the time when I loved Cairo best. I would wake up especially early, or stay up particularly late, just to enjoy this sacred time.

The oasis was sheltered by palm trees and cooled by bubbling limpid springs, but in the exposed town centre or on the highway back towards Alexandria, it would soon be hot enough to make the tarmac sticky and the ground hot enough to burn feet.

But now I was in the shady folds of the oasis, and after ascending the dry sun battered hill to reach Alexander’s famous oracle I found only old stones and a snake which slithered across the steps leading up to the temple precincts and nearly scared the soul out of my body with the suddenness of its movement.  I took this as a sign, but of what I was not sure. However I have since learned that a snake crossing your path is bad omen, it indicates spiteful or false friends, the classical suggestion is to kill the snake and thus harm those who are harming you, but in retrospect I feel it would  have been most unfair to involve the poor snake in my silly squabbles.

I had rented a bike from Siwa and ridden out of town exploring the length of the oasis in the manner advised. 

I wheeled my bike to the edge of a round plunging pool, the water about 15 feet deep and of the most perfect turquoise blue. For a moment I considered backing my bike up a few metres and just riding my bike straight into the water. But I held back. The place was far too nice for anything too silly. I got off my bike, lay it down and bombed in. Sunk.  And stayed under exploring this mini-aqua-marine paradise. The water was cool but not cold, it was, to the very degree, the ideal temperature.

I spent hours in this watery paradise, my body drinking the water through osmosis. Gradually the bright yellow oasis light slowly ripened to orange as the sun deepened into the horizon, it was time for the second remedy so I cycled back through the cooling palms along the sandy pathways. The path eventually widened and became a road and there were mules roving around pulling carts loaded with green leaf vegetables of some kind,  still no cars as I pulled up to the modest but delightfully cheap Palm Trees hotel where I was staying. A couple of old timers were playing backgammon, in the midst of a ruin of smoked cigarettes and empty shay glasses as the shadows of the palms lengthened and loomed over them.

I returned to Siwa town thoroughly refreshed from my adventures in hydration. Refreshed but not entirely quenched. I needed beer in order for the cure to be complete.

Ahmet’s body was sat in a chair behind the reception desk but his spirit was far away. He had propped himself against the back wall and was sleeping peacefully.

I cleared my throat, Ahmet opened one eye, recognised me and  slowly stood up:

“Kullu tamam?” he said with a friendly smile.

“Not bad,  but I could do with a beer. Where can I get beer around here?’

Instantly he answered, ‘You can have beer at Shali!’.

 ‘Shali?’ I answered, what is ‘Shali?’

‘Shali resort.

Ahmet ‘s moustached mouth offered no more information by way of explanation, like a captured POW who communicated only the barest minimum of information to his captors. I decided I would have to apply some pressure to Ahmet to get him to speak, perhaps some sodium pentothal but I had none to hand, so instead I smiled at him and asked him how to get there. This had the effect of the missing sodium pentothal and he immediately leapt up and grabbed a map and assiduously showed me a way to get myself to the beer-place with my bike.

It involved a six mile bike ride over a straight stretch of hot tarmac out of the oasis on an exposed road towards lake Siwa and by the time I got there it was cool and dusk was approaching. Having not had anything to drink all day except for coffee in the morning I was literally dying for a beer.

I cycled dryly and eagerly towards the resort  and through the gate into an artificial oasis of chlorinated water and shorn pelouse. I threw my bike down and without even sitting down ordered some beers with the desperation of an injured man calling for an ambulance. 

The waiter smiled indulgently and asked me my name and where I came from. I wondered if he had heard me and was about to explode in a surly unbecoming  hot, dehydrated rage but looking out towards the stillness of the lake and the coolness coming off the water I decided to moderate slightly:

‘Beer first, questions later’ I said quickly.

He smiled with understanding and quickly came back with three bottles of Stella.

‘Ah, 3, my lucky number’.

I quickly poured one into the glass and downed it before it had even begun to settle and the beer foam drooled down my chin giving me a little whispy beery gnome beard until I wiped it off. I didn’t care. I was a dying man resuscitated and returned to life by the grace of God given beer.

The first beer was sunk in under five seconds, i took the second and more slowly and deliberately filled the glass and now felt able to answer questions. I smiled:

“Ana James, forsa saiyida. Min il-ingleterra’

“Ahh, bitkellem Arabi!’

“Shwaya bass” I said. For what must have been the millionth and second time.

The only problem with Egypt is that conversation was always so predictable. And after revealing a name and a nationality the conversation  usually turns to football  with the  dreaded inevitability of ‘what team?’ which I had to pretend to take an interest in. But in this instance, because of the still beauty of the lake and the refreshing golden blissfulness of the beer I refused to allow the conversation to be steered to this inevitable though comforting platitudes about football. Instead I proffered:

“Ahmet at the Palm Trees hotel told me about this place. The only place in Siwa where I can get a beer”

The man looked uncertain.

“Ahmet, works at the Palm Trees in town (I pointed in the vague direction of Siwa), moustache (I made a little gesture under my nose)’

At this the man laughed heartily. He put his hand on my shoulder:

“Habibee, you say Ahmet and you say moustache.... In Egypt everybody is called Ahmet or Mahommed and everybody has  moustache’.

He went on to explain  that this is a common source of humour for the Egyptians that if you recognise a friend of yours called Mohamed or Ahmet down a busy street in Egypt, and you were to call out his name, at least a dozen people would turn around to see who was calling them, what’s more most of them would have black moustaches at various stages of size and bristliness.

“My friend, there are too  many Ahmets and too many moustaches, but I know Palm Trees, everybody in town go there for shisha.’

I laughed and smiled and started to like this man. It was my turn to ask the questions.

I asked him if he drank beer, he said he did and I motioned him to sit down and gave him my final beer and talked pleasantries until inevitably talk turned to football but I was feeling pretty good with a few beers down me so I simulated enthusiasm for various football teams and their vastly overpaid representatives. I even managed to think of a favourite team which sounded relatively convincing and even succeeded in convincing my new friend Moustafa that I actually knew what I was talking about. 

My talking about the dream team of Craig Bellamy and Carlos Tevez even convinced me that maybe I did like football and that Manchester City perhaps really were my favourite team. But I didn’t like talking about football because I felt insincere, but it was often worse not to, in which case a frozen silence usually descended on you and further friendly communication was impossible between a man and an non football loving alien.

The night came on swiftly after more beer and Moustafa went off to the room where he was accommodated by the resort and brought back a rather small lump of Lebanese hash. We smoked hash and drank more and it soon occurred to me that it was now far too late and I was far too wrecked to ride the six miles along the now pitch-black road, back to the home of the Palm Trees hotel.

So I stayed the night at the resort and slept drunk and stoned by the lake side and spent the whole time being tortured by mosquitos who also liked hanging out a Shali resort and drinking the beer that had found its way into my blood.

In the morning I examined the red pock marked  wreckage of my legs and decided that the very thing would be a dip in the salty lake to hopefully clean the little mosquito beak punctures and reduce the dreadful itching.

After disinfecting my legs in the salty lake I made my way back to my hotel to return the bike and with pleasure observed a salt crust forming in the hot sun on the six mile journey.

When I returned to the hotel I was greeted by a panic stricken Ahmet who ran towards me and informed me that the army had been out looking for me in the desert and they had even mobilised a general from his slumber. Apparently not returning to a hotel in the evening leads the Egyptian army to fear or suspect the worst and as such a full scale military man-hunt was engaged to discover the whereabouts of what they assumed was either an errant spy or a kidnap victim.

So I checked in to the local police station in Siwa and was greeted by the police chief. It occurred to me that there might be some small trouble and I might have to give a bribe but I had never bribed anyone in my life least of all a police chief and I suspected I would probably make a bit of a hash of it and get myself into trouble. Subtlety and subterfuge are most certainly not my speciality and I am not the man to covertly hand money to a member of a developing nation’s police force with something of a reputation for oppression which typically of police forces in the Muslim world, strikes fear in the hearts of the local population.

So I decided against handing over any money and decided that a smile and a bumblingly apologetically foppish bit of English charm would have to get me out of this mess.

And it worked. My informing him that I was an English teacher and an actual resident (not a mere tourist), and smiling apologetically seemed to act as an admirable stand in for a bribe, if one was even expected which I am not even sure of.... And so after him a few pleasantries and smiles, and him practicing his English, I left waving and smiling.

I had no idea that simply going for a beer in Egypt could lead to so much trouble. I only hope my missing bribe wasn't later extracted somehow from Moustafa in the basement of the Siwa police station. To this day I pray he didn't get into too much trouble about it.