The legend of the Monkey

Legend has it that during the Napoleonic Wars of the early 19th century, a shipwrecked monkey was hanged by the people of Hartlepool, believing him to be a French spy! To this day, people from Hartlepool are affectionately known as ‘monkey hangers’. A French ship was spotted floundering and sinking off the Hartlepool coast. Suspicious of enemy ships and nervous of possible invasion, the good folk of Hartlepool rushed down to the beach, where amongst the wreckage of the ship they found the only survivor, the ship’s monkey which was apparently dressed in a miniature military-style uniform. Hartlepool is a long way from France and most of the populace had never met, or even seen, a Frenchman. Some satirical cartoons of the time pictured the French as monkey-like creatures with tails and claws, so perhaps the locals could be forgiven for deciding that the monkey, in its uniform, must be a Frenchman, and a French spy at that. There was a trial to ascertain whether the monkey was guilty of spying or not; however, not unsurprisingly, the monkey was unable to answer any of the court’s questions and was found guilty. The townsfolk then dragged him into the town square and hanged him.

I move into my beautiful house and gradually am made aware by other neighbours, who always seem to be looking shiftily about when they talk or tracing an imaginary line on the pavement with their shoe, that I am living next to the worst family in the village.

A family by all accounts that have allegedly been evicted from every house they have ever lived in including being run off a gypsy site. Of course the information given always has the get-out clause of 'Don't tell anyone I told you'!

Such Bravery!!!My heart sinks, but it doesn't take long before the perception becomes a reality and the Neighbours From Hell begin their war of attrition aided and abetted by every piece of human refuse you can imagine.

They set about systematically laying waste to my property, destroying it with a vengeance and trying to destroy me in the process. They and their unhappy band of brothers, used my garden as a shortcut every day, climbing over my wall and looking in through my windows. They raced their whippets around my garden. They even lifted them over my garden wall to defecate when the mood took them. They smashed windows and doors, broke into my shed, wrote several cars off and this was just them warming up. Little did I know it but they hadn't even got into full flow yet.

This wasn't my worst nightmare coming true this was something I had never even dreamed of.

So who do you go to when you have a problem with your neighbours?

Council?

Police?  

MP?

You would have thought so wouldn't you? But not here....no here it's baseball bat mentality!

But that's not me - I don't do fighting in the streets and that's when I came up against the biggest villains in this story..........the  LOCAL AUTHORITIES AND THE BOYS IN BLUE!

And they think its all over ....well it isn't!

Its been a while since I posted on here about the trials and tribulations of dealing with neighbours from hell and the hypocrisy of those who could help  the victims of such neighbours and choose not to.
I have just today spoken to another victim of such as similar as I and it disheartens me.  

Days turn into months and months into years and yet the same stubborn couldn't-care-less attitude 
is taken over those who complain about their neighbours to the local authorities and 
the boys in blue.
Its not our problem, we can't help you - You must have done something to upset them.
Its just a neighbour dispute.

Only when that victim is enlightened as to what steps they can take to get to the bottom of why their complaints are not taken seriously is any action taken and when it is, it comes far too late in the day to heal the rift created by incompetence and indifference and an inertia to do anything other than answer the phone and write in the margin of the complainant's statement .........SC 
(Serial Complainer).

Of course Under an FOI - Subject Access, you can ask for everything the police have on you, whether they provide it or not is debatable?

Although some police forces are not so efficient that they can 
hide their rash foolishness from public gaze, some do.

How will you ever know if what you receive is everything that's been 

written about you or if anything has been written at all?

With hope in your heart and trust  you approach them??

 I wonder if that's entirely possible when you've been ignored or labelled and slandered  behind closed doors?

I have to concur  with the victim I spoke to today that the police pin the blame on the victim because the victim is the scapegoat and the easiest one to vilify.

Someone should tell our Boys in Blue that that's not the ethos they should be promoting when 

Defend and Protect is their log line ....... and all that guff! 

Convicted Judge Storms out of Court

A judge swore and stormed out of court when she was convicted of failing to control her dangerous dog.

Judge Beatrice Bolton, of Rothbury, Northumberland, strode out when the verdict was announced, branding the decision "a f****** travesty".

Bolton, 57, was found guilty by a judge sitting at Carlisle Magistrates' Court of allowing her pet German Shepherd to bite 20-year-old Frederick Becker, her neighbour. She was fined £2,500 and ordered to pay £275 compensation to the victim, plus £930 court costs and a £15 surcharge.

District Judge Gerald Chalk said the case had been proved, adding: "We take the view that this is a case which does justify a financial penalty. Mr Becker was not only put in fear but was actually injured by the dog in question."

Bolton, who was asked by the court usher during the two-day-trial to stop chewing gum, had denied a single charge under the Dangerous Dogs Act.

She was labelled "the neighbour from Hell" by Mr Becker's parents David and Anne Malia.

The Malias and Bolton lived in adjoining properties and had been friends for years, but their relationship soured over the rights to the homes' shared back gardens and the behaviour of Bolton's dog - an animal the family claimed they were living "in terror" of.

A spokesman for the Judicial Office for England and Wales said the Lord Chief Justice and the Lord Chancellor would be considering Bolton's position as a judge.

Speaking outside the court, Judge Bolton said: "I'm absolutely devastated by this conviction. I have always sought to do what was right in relation to my neighbours and was very conscious of my public position and tried very hard for it not to be said that I was abusing such a position."

Asked whether she regretted her foul-mouthed outburst in court, she said: "This has been a terrible, terrible strain on me which I have tried to bear for the sake of my family, but everyone has their limit at which they cannot control themself. I above all else would never disrespect a court."

This was the judge who let my Neighbour from Hell perpetrator

off at a Crown Court trial after she had issued Death Threats.

Seems there may have been an affinity there right from the start.

But....if you wait long enough...what goes around ...comes around !!!!!

Karma 1     NFH/Perps      0

Its All About Game Play

So where are we now in this tangled web of deception that appears to have taken over my life?After having been let down by all the major players in this travesty, who should have been looking out for me and mine.

I became the solitary target in this game of pin the blame on the victim and make no mistake game it was, as nobody took my dilemma seriously.

The main protagonists, who were by past practise, expert game players were setting me up for a fall as they were intent on shifting the blame on to me for bringing all these problems to their attention.

Instead of examining their own ethics and looking in their own back yards for the guilty parties, they were content to put me in the frame because I did, after all, ask too many questions and exert pressure on people to do the jobs they should have been doing in the first place!

My plight, to the gamesters, became just a matter of ticking boxes and paper exercises just on the off-chance that a bit of extra money might be made due to the unlimited overtime I was providing to the boys in blue in having to haul them out at all hours of the night and day.

Bricks don't come through the windows on a 9-5 basis!

Awkward that, and a bit of a bind, when you want to knock off early for the curry run or the odd garden show!

As for the council instead of hanging their heads in shame, they were quite prepared for me to go on taking the flak and fanned the flames wherever possible as lo and behold, it was not only the daughter of the then Chairman of the council who was the chief perpetrator of the frenzied attacks upon my property, but she was aided and abetted by the grandson of Tony Blair's right hand man in Sedgefield.

What a well brought up pair they were, treasured offspring's of Sedgefield and Cornforth's pillars of the community!

So here we have the line up for the game of the century?

In one corner I have a police force, our boys in blue showing its full ineptitude, forging my name on a witness statement and doing nothing about it for 5 months, leaving the officer in situ and taking my statements even after he has admitted forging my signature and in the other corner a labour council of the old school, up to its waist in denial of any kind of maladministration and crime, the latter having been perpetrated 
by its own kith and kin!

Roll up! Roll up!

All the fun of the (un)-fair!!!!

The Biggest Swine at the Trough

After the many damning revelations that our parliamentary representatives are much less squeaky clean than we thought them to be - were we ever that naive?- who rates the highest in the political financial bleeding of this country?

Who was the biggest swine at the trough?Surely logic would dictate that the leader of the country and the leader of our government at the peak of this abuse should bear the brunt of our wrath and who was that person?

Not Gordon Brown who fell into the job by default - the bridegroom who was left standing at the altar after being jilted so many times.

Not Gordon Brown the left over candidate when there was no-one else left to choose from.

Not Gordon Brown, the dour scot and not even the best of a bad bunch but the boot boy who was promised the crumbs from his masters table.

No, there is only one who can take the full responsiblity for the mess our country is in and the fact that our democracy is at risk and that is none other than Saint Tony Blair.

The born again bludger!

The man with such a vocal moral code that he didnt mind stretching his morals to encompass all he could take and more from the general coffers.

The man who, while he was in the North East, milked the political expense cow dry with his less than moral dealings over his several mortgages on Myrobella House in Trimdon, the constituency home that cost a mere £30,000 twenty years ago. He claimed £43,000 over two years in respect of his constituency home.

In 2004 he took out a mortgage on the property Myrobella to free up some cash perhaps for one of his many more property investments, quite a portfolio Mr. and Ms. Blair were building. A political nest egg for the future along with the memoirs, the many appearances on the guest speaking circuit before going for the highly coveted and long awaited golden prize.... the crown of europe.

While Mr. Blair was in office he was paid £178,000 a year, yet he felt it necessary for the taxpayer to help him pay a mortgage on a property that had already been paid for.
That's high moral code for you? 
The Prime Minister said in his defence at the time that 'Myrobella House was partly used as an office for constituency business', however, £43,000 over two years is not the going rate for a 'home office' in the backwaters of Co. Durham where property goes for a song.
In all honesty the cost would be a lot lower.

So tell me why Blair hasn’t been taken to task over his milking of the Parliamentary cow.........because martyrdom has a higher price than morality.... and Saint Tone is yet again beyond reproach.
My!!!! How he's earned his wings!

TB's Legacy to Victims of Crime

I had a fantasy… it was called justice.

I used to believe that I would live my life and not be touched by crime,
never become a statistic, never wake up in a sweat on hearing noise outside, and never jump when the fridge turns on, but the reality of having lived in Blair's Back Yard is very different to the fairy tale I used to believe in.

I have been the victim of 227 crime/incidents in just under 4 years whilst living in
the North East, resulting in damage amounting to over 75 thousand pounds.

I was targeted because I made a stand against wayward and lawless behaviour.

Behaviour that is still all so acceptable unlike the contracts, dished out, but
rarely enforced in a village within Sedgefield Constituency where Tony Blair was MP.

Endless broken windows, car wrecking, theft, burglary, attempted arson, criminal 
damage, death threats and intimidation has left me traumatised.

I have been verbally abused at any opportunity, as have my friends, when they have
had the iniquitous misfortune to visit me.

I have even suffered the shame of having 'Die Bitch' daubed across my
door for all to see.

Yes, shame, not fear.

It is not done to frighten, but to shame me. I dared to do the unforgivable.

I contacted the police.

Such has been the intensity of the threats libelled against me that Victim Support
advised me not to leave my house alone.

So there I was living under siege a virtual prisoner in my own home, because I dared to
do what we as a nation used to be proud to do, stand up and be counted.

But I stood alone in a community that bragged about running itself with a punch-(in the face) -line of ......I'm alright man, why aye.

And because I stood up I was made to suffer so-called low-level crime, 
such a misnomer if ever I heard one.

It isn't low level when you wait in the darkness night after night for the onslaught to
begin and when it does, count the cost of the damage to your home, and the invasion
of your privacy.

It lends me to a lack of confidence in a police service that sometimes does it's best, but is drowning in a sea of political paperwork.

I had a strict daily regime that helped me survive.
By 6pm the thick curtains lined with heavy voile to catch the glass were all pulled
tightly shut.

I learnt to cook by candlelight as putting a light on was tempting house bricks
through the windows like moths to a flame.

I didn't sleep in a bed for almost 4 years. 

For safety I slept downstairs on a sofa, with a fire extinguisher to hand, such was my
trust in the promises made to me face to face by Mr. Blair, that he would sort it out.

I still live in a constant state of hyper vigilism, always scanning, always aware of the time
of day, and where I am.

Knowing who is who and where they are in relation to my property is of prime
importance because, when the devil strikes, the first thing a police officer will ask is

What time was it? Where were you? And what were you doing?

That is not a normal run of the mill; stress free way of living, but it is one I was forced
into by vandalism and yobbish behaviour and a community that turned away.

I was an embarrassment for staying in my house as long as I did without giving
in to the yobs that roam the streets looking for trouble and finding it.

You will notice I said my house and not my home; it wasn't my home for a long
time. It was their home, they did what they liked to it, I just happened to live in the building.

What was expected in this neck of the woods was to put up and shut up or better still, use the baseball bat mentality to sort things out.

The few that that stand up against yobs are not well supported by a system that is in
total overload.

One is expected to either run out of money or run out of steam, or if your skin colour
doesn't fit, get run out of town. I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies by
their standards, that I am at least white.

All desire by me was lost to change things for the better and bring about an end
to yobbish culture in a community that for the most part ignores what it sees and
remains unmoved by the happenings to others.

How much of that is down to apathy or ignorance I do not know, but when grown
men cheer whilst youths stone the windows of a victim's home...... I despair.

I despair for the future of that community.

I despair for the future of those youths.

If you know the difference you can make a difference, but the onus is in the knowing.

Social education in a Socialist heartland is sadly lacking and the evidence is
there for all to see.

With the advent of ASBO's and ABC's Labour politicians and Tony Blair in particular
promoted a solution to social disaster that is now reaching epidemic proportions.

No Tony, in practise it's not enough, because asbos only work if the victim,

the recurring victim, is prepared to go on being a recurring victim.

Once you come forward, you are marked, cast out from the very society you are
trying to improve.

You won't remember me Tony, but I met you at your constituency surgery, I let you

know how I felt, I told you of my misery, face to face. You promised me help and the situation changed…….......It got worse.

Not satisfied with being left to suffer, I went back to your agent John Burton several
times, each time taking an independent witness with me from Victim Support.

In August 2005, Mr. Burton said he would come and see me, and the problems for
himself, as he put it the 'back end of next week'……. I'm still waiting.

I knew the days had become long since moving to the North East, I hadn't realised the weeks had too.

I have campaigned long and hard for the right to live peaceably and to go about my
day-to-day business in safety without harassment or distress, but it seemed that was not to be.

Where this will end I do not know, but have no doubt it will end in tears.

I trusted you Mr. Blair to be a man of the people, I trusted you to keep your word.

I have great disbelief as many others do at the generalised statement crime figures are down and yob culture has been cracked.

I'm afraid not Tony, I have the evidence before me, the multitude of police
statements, the photographs of damage, the endless repair bills.

You may have cracked the tip of the iceberg but it's what lies beneath that does the 
criminal damage.

I had a fantasy called justice… but the dream is long since dead.

I am living proof of the nightmare.

And still the misery goes on for others.......