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This is the judge’s Brownie badge which he wears on his Brownie hat just
above his left ear. This badge is for the benefit of any visitors to the
village, so that he can be immediately recognised as an important person who
has the power to bring down misfortunes onto any person who incurs his
displeasure. My daughters and granddaughters acquired a large number of
Brownie badges whilst young and I could have offered him a much better
Brownie badge than the one he’s currently wearing.
Stroyan appears to be having and enjoying some success as the village Urisk
or Brownie and I am glad that he has at this late stage in his life been
able to enjoy some success, if only as the village fool. Stroyan was a
failure as a barrister and was thrown out of his chambers; he was a failure
as a judge and held in general contempt by all his fellow judges; his only
success as a judge was to win the competition of which judge had the most
judgements thrown out by the appeal court - he tops this table easily. So
maybe we shouldn’t begrudge him his senile joy at being recognised as the
village fool in place.
On
the first day of my trial at Teesside Crown Court my lawyer,
Benedict Birnberg,
travelled up from London to assist me during the opening in the arguments
about the admissibility of certain evidence. When Ben Birnberg appeared
Stroyan nearly fell off his chair, and he then glared at me with hatred as
if to say “why have you done this to me”? Ben later explained to me that
some years before, when he first started up as a lawyer running a one-man
show and working day and night, he had been persuaded by a well-known
barrister’s clerk to give the young, brand new just-qualified barrister
Angus Stroyan some work. Apparently Angus had not been able to find any
work, and was a deserving case.
Ben
had been working on an important case, and now needed the assistance of a
barrister, and he instructed Angus to represent his client. Some months
later the scandal broke that Stroyan had completely screwed up the case,
making a fool of himself and the client, and he was now being sued by the
client for a huge sum of money. The situation was, that as the client’s
solicitor and as the person who had instructed Stroyan, all the idiotic
mistakes made by Stroyan - which caused the client to lose the case - meant
that Ben was held responsible for this situation. This meant that Ben
Birnberg nearly went bankrupt and had to sell up all his possessions, and
borrow money and start his business up again from scratch.
Ben
complained to the Bar Council about this, and Stroyan was sacked and evicted
from the chambers. In normal cases he would have been lucky to have found a
job in the local Water Board or Gas Company, but fortunately Stroyan had a
sister who has been his major support throughout his life (and maybe still
is). His sister had got Stroyan into the chambers, and then supported him
all the way through until he was called to the Bar. She was described as a
brilliant barrister herself. At the time of this disaster for Stroyan his
sister once again helped him out, by arranging for him to become a trainee
judge somewhere up North. So it wasn’t a case of FILTH it was a FILTUN
(Failed In London Tried Up North).
By
the time my trial came up Stroyan’s sister was the senior judge at
Middlesbrough, and she asked for my trial to be held in that court.
Presumably the Old bailey thought that she would be trying me herself, she
being a highly respected senior judge and brilliant barrister. The Old
Bailey did not know that, as the senior judge, she was in a position to
delegate my case to her idiot younger brother, who having been thrown out of
his London chambers had now worked his way through the various judge’s
positions up North, and in so doing had created a record which I believe
still stands for the number of his judgements which have been immediately
overturned by the appeal courts.
The
amazing thing is that pinned to the front of my court file was a note, from
the Lord Chief Justice, that my trial should only be held before a High
Court Judge. This note was still attached to the file when it came into my
possession a few years later, and this is probably the reason why the fool
Stroyan dressed himself up in High Court Judge’s robes during the early part
of my trial.
Knowing that a High Court Judge must have been delegated to my trial I
assumed that Stroyan was such, and that is why I addressed him as “My Lord”,
as you can see from the transcripts and recordings at the beginning of the
trial - and this was why other police officers giving evidence also
addressed him as “My Lord”.
It
was the evil Jewish parrot
Geoffrey Rivlin QC who identified Stroyan as
“Your Honour”, which was the title I used throughout the rest of the trial.
I was particularly annoyed by this dishonesty of the judiciary at Teesside
Crown Court, because I had been caused to spend an extra six months in
prison on remand because of the difficulty of finding a High Court Judge who
could try my case.
Ben
Birnberg’s information about Stroyan only confirmed the opinion I had
already formed myself, that this judge was a damned fool, and God help me
having my reputation put at risk in the hands of such a person. I mentioned
this to Ben, who said ‘this could be turned to your advantage if you play it
right - allow him and encourage him to make as many mistakes and stupid
decisions as possible, and be sure to make a careful note of each one - the
day and the time for example’, which is what I did throughout the trial.
Ben
also told me about the case of
Wally Virgo
some years before, who having been found guilty and sentenced to 18 years
imprisonment at the Old Bailey, appealed against some unwarranted words used
by the judge in his summing up, won his appeal and walked free. I decided to
adopt a positive attitude and considered myself lucky to be before a fool of
a judge instead of a really clever one.
Five days later, I considered beyond doubt that my trial was going to be a
farce, and that both the Prosecution Jewish Parrot Rivlin and the idiot
judge were both set on convicting me at all and any cost, and would surely
send me to prison for six years having failed in their attempt to resurrect
a previously rejected conspiracy charge, which if proved would enable them
to give me the same 18 years that Wally Virgo had received.
With that in mind I deliberately conned the fool judge on Day 5 (see
records) into agreeing that if I changed my plea to guilty my sentences
would run concurrently - in other words a maximum sentence of two years
instead of six. The fool judge immediately agreed to this, but the evil Jew
parrot knew exactly what I was doing, and did everything in his power to
stop the judge from making this decision.
Rivlin showed his true character at this stage: during the first four days
he pretended to be reasonable and spoke to the judge politely, but on Day 5
when he saw me obviously conning the stupid judge, his face was a picture of
hatred and he went over the limits regarding the niceties of a Prosecuting
Counsel addressing a sitting judge. I knew from that moment that the gloves
were off, and when he pulled ugly Jewish parrot faces at me I responded with
an evil eye for the following six weeks of the trial.
At
this stage of the trial I was a man alone trying to defend myself against an
‘evil genius’ Prosecuting Counsel, who had obviously taken control of an
idiot judge. This was the time I found that I had the sympathy of the
Middlesbrough Court, and I started to receive information through one of the
Court staff, an usher, who was himself a retired policeman.
I
found out about the note pinned to my file through this new friend. I found
out about Stroyan’s sister’s part in this case, about the number of
Stroyan’s judgements that had been immediately overturned at the Appeal
Court, and the fact that there was a deal in place between Stroyan’s sister
and the powers that be in London: Stroyan must convict me at all costs, and
must take all steps to thwart certain aspects of my defence evidence, which
he did.
I
also found out through the usher, and then confirmed through other sources,
that Stroyan was in fact an embarrassment to that Court, and they wanted to
be rid of him. Stroyan hated the town of Middlesbrough and the people that
lived there. He complained that he could not understand what the primitive
locals were saying, but appeared to accept being a figure of fun. My new
friend told me that Stroyan had erected some sort of fantasy land in which
he was an important person, and had acquired a thirty or forty year-old
Rolls Royce (in poor condition) and had himself driven sitting in the back
of this car fully robed up. He was driven to the front of Teesside Crown
Court; the driver would alight and open the back door; Stroyan would emerge
wearing full fig and wig and proceeded in through the front door of the
Court; and he passed through the people waiting therein as if he was
royalty.
I
could hardly believe my ears, and I got a friend to wait outside the court
the next morning to see if this ridiculous pantomime really did take place.
I was told that Stroyan arrived at the Court exactly as described by the
court usher. He was in fact an embarrassment to everyone in that building. I
learnt that Stroyan’s sister had struck a deal which hinged on my being
convicted and imprisoned, and that then Stroyan’s dream of returning in
triumph to the Inner London Circuit - from which he had been so
ignominiously expelled many years before - would come true, and this is
exactly what happened.
Stroyan did return in triumph to the Inner London Circuit, but unfortunately
he immediately became an embarrassment and a joke there, and it was not long
before he was expelled from the inner London Circuit a second time, and no
doubt to his horror was returned to the North from whence he came - poor
fool. Stroyan had been removed from the Teesside Crown Court where he had
been the fool in place and, unbelievably, had been immediately elevated to
being a judge at the Old Bailey, his reward for falsely convicting me of
corruption. Who then was the corrupt one?
In
later years I met up with
Tim
Greene,
who as a trainee solicitor had sat through my trial, as a direct result of a
demand from Rivlin that my lawyer should supply some person who could be
used to transmit his messages to me, as he did not wish to speak to me
directly. Tim may be heard from time to time on the tape recordings, when
the judge also used Tim to send me messages and threats. Tim later became
fully qualified, and then a very successful solicitor in his own right. In
this capacity he often attended the Old Bailey in connection with those of
his clients who stood trial there.
Tim
told me that, whenever he went to the Old Bailey, Stroyan would make a point
of inviting him to his chamber behind the Court, and there he would question
him closely about me: how was I, was I happy and settled, enjoying life, etc
... he gave the impression of being genuinely worried about my welfare. At
that time I softened towards Stroyan, thinking he might well be an old fool,
but underneath there was some humanity to show consideration for a man he
had so cruelly mistreated for his own ends. I later realised that Stroyan’s
obsessive interest in me - where I was living, and what I was doing - was
not based on any humanitarian reason, but fear. I have no doubt that his
fear came from the knowledge that I had obtained a full official transcript
of my trial, and then had obtained a full set of the police recordings of
the trial. I had compared them and put in a complaint to the appropriate
authorities, and that’s where his fear came from, and he certainly deserves
it - wicked old man!
I
later heard from a solicitor on the South Wales Circuit why no one could
find a real High Court Judge prepared to take on my case, and my readers
might be heartened to learn that the truth was that not a single High Court
Judge would touch this case because: (1) my case came with strings attached,
and (2) it was “dirty”. This means that whoever took on my case must be
prepared to guarantee that I would be convicted, and that any allegations I
might make about the Security Services, KGB, important politicians and civil
servants, etc, would be blocked and stifled at birth. I must at all costs be
convicted of corruption, and the longer my sentence the better.
I
think we must all be glad that, whatever the state of British Justice, our
High Court Judges are a beacon of truth and justice, because every High
Court Judge approached refused this poisoned chalice. They were not prepared
to convict a possibly innocent man, and to rig a trial in such a way that I
would be bound and gagged.
The
other problem was, that any High Court Judge who looked into my case would
have found that, apart from the ridiculous Times documents (prepared by The
Times reporters and the basis for the newspaper article), there were a
series of recordings which every scientist who had looked at them, including
those hired by the Prosecution, had stated that these tapes could never be
used in evidence. The tapes were claimed to be originals, but they were in
fact copies, and worse still, obviously edited copies with copying marks
still on the tapes. So the tapes should not have been used in evidence
against me.
As
far as the transcripts were concerned - made by the corrupt Police Moody and
Virgo - these could not be used because the tapes must be rejected.
Furthermore, legal arguments were attached to my court papers, which had
been made during the previous proceedings involving Robson Harris and
myself, backed by sworn statements by the most highly qualified sound
engineers in the land, who testified that transcripts taken and prepared
from such sources should never ever be allowed in evidence. Therefore,
without the tapes and without the transcripts, there was really no case
against me.
Added to that problem for the Prosecution, from a High Court Judges’ point
of view there was the fact that the numbered bank notes shown in evidence,
and allegedly given to me, were not in fact printed by the Bank of England
until after the final meeting had taken place. The Bank of England’s lawyers
were prepared to attend court to give these facts in evidence. Nobody should
be convicted of receiving money which had not in fact been printed!
Furthermore, the whole exercise of phoning up active detectives throughout
London, offering information on the condition it would be given at a
personal meeting with the detective and then secretly recording the
conversations, led to several dozen Scotland Yard detectives being allegedly
entrapped - presumably with phantom “yet to be printed” money handed to
them. The only case really proved throughout this whole mess was the
conspiracy by The Times, the owner of the newspaper who had encouraged this
exercise, and the junior staff who had carried it out, incidentally behind
the back of the Editor.
There is much more along these lines, and one can imagine the aesthetic
faces of the High Court Judges gradually showing deep disgust about the
whole affair. However, the main objection of anyone with any intelligence
and integrity, would be the knowledge that I was being personally hounded by
the most important persons in the land at the time of the case. To learn
more about this go the article “Sunny Jim”.
Having read “Sunny Jim” you will see why powerful people demanded that I was
convicted - guilty or not. What they were really after was a lengthy
sentence, because obviously they could only stay in power while I was
restrained in solitary confinement, in a high security prison for as long as
possible. Bearing this in mind, you can understand why no decent judge of
independent mind and pride in Justice would touch this case, and that’s why
I spent a year in prison just waiting for a High Court Judge to be found.
It
was not only a High Court Judges that could not be found; no other judges
could be found except for one - enter the babbling fool idiot Angus Stroyan,
the Scottish Parrot. Stroyan was chosen to facilitate the scenario needed to
help a hit man brought in from the Leeds Circuit, who had volunteered to
guarantee that he would get me convicted come what may, but of course he
would need the cooperation of the judge in the case. No decent or even
half-decent judge could be found to judge my case, until that babbling,
idiot Scottish Parrot fool agreed to do it.
Why
Parrot? Because the fool sat up on the judge’s bench, wearing his High Court
Judge’s apparel, and he just eagerly awaited his instructions from Rivlin,
who spent the whole trial passing up bits of paper directly to the judge
telling him what to say and when to say it. Anyone who follows the attached
recordings will observe this, and see that Stroyan is obviously reading from
bits of paper whenever he makes any comments that are of any importance.
I
used to enjoy those occasions when the old fool misread his instructions,
and the crazy, ugly Parrot Master Jew jumped up to publicly correct the
judge. The judge would then blink, re-read his instructions, and read them
again. This situation was obvious to the whole Court, including the Police
and members of the public, which included on occasion certain foreign
diplomats who were there on my behalf at the end of the trial to observe the
proceedings, and one of them remarked to me: “we could have got you a fairer
trial in Moscow or even in Siberia”.
Stroyan’s greatest pleasure was his daily reading out of that day’s press
release, written of course by Rivlin, and the tape recordings will show that
these announcements (mainly criticising or reproaching me and my conduct
during the trial) would be directed not at me and not to the jury, but he
would turn to face the press bench. This can be confirmed by the recordings.
In other words, the recording system in the court was set up to record
whatever the judge said to Rivlin and myself, and this microphone had to be
moved to a different position when he was speaking to the jury.
The
Court set up was not conducive to facilitate Stroyan’s daily press
announcements, which was obviously the highlight of his day, and it was
noticed that the comic judge, wearing wig and gown, passing through the
public entrance to the Court was now invariably carrying a copy of that
day’s Times newspaper under his arm, as if advertising that paper and its
contents. This was the only newspaper that daily printed extracts from the
trial, and the judge’s pronouncements, written by Rivlin, were given
headline treatment. I will later put up examples of this behaviour.
Despite what I have written above about the babbling fool, etc, I must
confess to having some sympathy for this now pathetic, senile village idiot
apparently oblivious to the mocking laughter which greets his daily
appearances, dressed up as a Brownie and wearing one or other of his
apparently large collection of tartans. Which clan is he I wonder? I know
all about my clan and tartan, and every other person I know who is also
entitled to wear a tartan is generally loyal to only the one.
I
am sorry for Stroyan, because I believe that as a child he was a simple,
normal, small boy, and certainly not talented, who could have led a happy
life in his native Scotland as a small farmer or even a crofter. His
misfortune was having an older sister, who took it upon herself to interfere
in and direct his life - possibly for some benefit to her, but certainly to
the detriment of him. She is obviously the true ‘evil genius’ in this series
of events. Who is she to push a simple boy into being trained as a
barrister? Who is she to facilitate a failed and disbarred barrister onto
the bench as a judge? And worst of all, who is she to make a corrupt
arrangement with James Callaghan and Howard Smith (and/or their agents) to
agree to facilitate the sort of trial that I was subjected to, with a
guaranteed false conviction that has ruined my life and the lives of my
immediate family.
My
mother lost her mind through the shame and disgrace she thought I had
brought onto the family. My children’s lives were disrupted, and placed
under threat by the corrupt Scotland Yard Chiefs. A terrible book was
written about me, which was delivered to my mother and my children, and
eventually I had to give up my home to enable my mother and children to live
under a form of military protection whilst I was absent from the country.
Now my granddaughters are suffering because other children have talked about
their grandfather, who was a corrupt policeman and was sent to prison, and
those articles have been brought to the attention of my granddaughters
causing them stress.
So
step forward Miss Stroyan; you have been hiding behind your brother for far
too long. You have been controlling his every action as though he were a
puppet. You have destroyed your brother - was that the intention? Were you
suffering from penis envy which drove you, or are you just a wicked person?
How could you do such wicked things to your poor, shambling foolish brother
- and more importantly to me - how could you arrange that I and my life
should be destroyed, and in the process damage members of my immediate
family?
We
have talked about evil parrots. I accuse you of being the evil mistress of a
foolish parrot. I dare you to come forward Miss Stroyan, you have been
attacking me for long enough. You are a wicked evil person, and in your turn
I will identify you publicly, and give due publicity to your numerous sins
including the above.
Some may think that my words above are harsh and/or unjustified, but my
response to that is that the words first written down by the Jew Parrot, and
then directed to the Press Bench by the Scottish idiot Parrot, and then
published in all the national newspapers and repeated on the radio and
television, have remained in my mind since the time they were uttered until
the time I woke up this morning. (Read the judge’s comments at the end of
the trial) So I know the power of ugly, false and unjustified words, and I
hope that my true, correct and justified comments above may have equal
effect on the parrots and the Parrot Mistress. Unfortunately I doubt it.
My
last question is this: what on earth is your brother doing by claiming to be
a QC? Did you also personally bestow this honour on him, you made him a
barrister, you made him a judge, and now it seems you made him a QC? How on
earth did you facilitate this? There appears to be no record of any official
granting of this honour. There are many questions along these lines, for
example how did you get him a job as a judge, when he had been disbarred as
a barrister? It seems you promoted your brother to being a High Court Judge
to facilitate his taking over my trial, and now it appears that you have
personally made him a QC, which incidentally takes pride of place in the
poor old fool’s mind. I think it is time for you to start answering some
question Miss Stroyan. Also, I know a very good psychiatrist who recognised
your case immediately for what it was, and you may be pleased to know that
you are not alone in your present condition - pure sibling jealousy.
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The Wicked “Sisters” - are they the lesbian judges?
I
regret having to bring this matter out but, in view of the fact that all my
previous allegations are being studiously ignored, I am now obliged to apply
more and more corroborative evidence in respect of the allegations I have
made above.
During my trial family members and some of my friends became “regular
attenders”, to be seen to be occupying seats in the public section of the
Court. I heard from them brief resumes regarding their opinion of ongoing
trial matters, and also some interesting comments on other members of the
public some of whom also became regular attenders. Two characters, who came
to the notice of my friends and relatives, were two middle-aged women who
came and went throughout the course of my trial. These two women became
known and referred to as “the lesbians”. Something about their appearance
and behaviour led to this opinion from more than one source.
It
seems that they entered the trial in a secretive manner, and always sat
close together … too close … and they whispered and giggled together
throughout the proceedings. They always left together unobtrusively, and
then just as unobtrusively they would reappear in the public gallery later
that day. It was as if they knew how the trial was going to go, and appeared
and reappeared at times when interesting things were likely to happen, for
example: when I was about to cross-examine certain witnesses; particularly
when statements and speeches were to be made, but; especially when I was
raising matters to do with the conduct of my trial.
The
frequent attendance of these two women was brought to my notice and I
managed to catch glimpses of them throughout my trial. I am sure I would be
able to identify them today if necessary.
From the very beginning of my trial I had been informed that judge Stroyan
had been appointed to judge my case by his sister, who was the senior judge
at Middlesbrough and was therefore in a position to personally delegate her
brother to take control of my trial, despite the fact he was not a High
Court Judge and (as she must have known) an obviously incompetent person to
handle a trial such as mine. Using her position as a senior judge she was
also instrumental in allowing an unknown Prosecutor from the Leeds Circuit
to transfer to the North-Eastern Circuit to prosecute my trial. She was the
only person who could facilitate this possibly illegal situation, and more
importantly she was the person who over-rode the complaints of the
Middlesbrough Court staff who objected to Geoffrey Rivlin bringing his own
shorthand writers from Leeds to record my trial.
In
the first instance there were many other judges, including herself, who were
far senior to and very much more competent than Stroyan. These actions were
certainly improper and quite possibly illegal. The advice of an expert on
Court procedures and rules and regulations would be useful here.
There is much more supporting evidence available if necessary, but the fact
remains that my pantomime trial could not have been arranged, and the parts
of the cast in the pantomime could not have been facilitated, without the
direct interference of these two women. Both of them were judges and highly
regarded within the legal system, and who have since gone onto even greater
things, possibly on the back of the unjust joke trial they arranged for me,
all for the benefit of judge Stroyan and to make true his childish wish to
be a famous judge at the Old Bailey.
We
all know about sisterly love but this was taking it to extremes and
therefore must be exposed, identified and publicised. The truth is that my
allegations expose British Justice to be in fact a joke, or should I say a
sick joke, if it is true that a couple of old lesbians can destroy an
innocent man in order to facilitate an undeserved career promotion for an
idiot judge, who despite being a total fool in all aspects of his life can
be elevated within the judicial system through the machinations of his
sister and her lesbian friend. The whole of the British Justice System
hereby stands exposed as a sick joke. God help all of us!
The
title “wicked sisters” is correct. There were two lesbian judges within the
British Judicial System, who formed a lesbian relationship at the beginning
of their careers, and they loyally maintained this relationship for the rest
of their careers, if not their lives. The term lesbian is accurate, and the
term sisters is also accurate. ‘Miss Stroyan’ is a judge and the sister of
Angus Stroyan. Her sister-in-law is her lesbian partner, who is the sister
of the man Miss Stroyan married. So they are both sisters twice over, one
sister to Stroyan and sister-in-law to the other lesbian - the other sister
to the man Miss Stroyan married, which makes Miss Stroyan and her lesbian
friend sisters-in-law. That proves the word “sister”. The word “wicked” is
proved beyond all doubt, by the evidence about my trial that is written down
and the evidence that is yet to come. They created and executed a wicked
conspiracy to destroy me and my life in order to improve the position of
Stroyan. If that’s not wicked, what is?
I
have been publicly exposing the misdeeds of judges Stroyan and Rivlin but
these pathetic cowards have been hiding away, no doubt trembling, and have
yet to answer one of my allegations, because they know damn well that
everything I say is the truth and can be proved to be so. I am very
disappointed, because I have been looking forward to re-running my trial
before High Court Judges as originally ordered by a Lord Chief Justice. Your
brother and his corrupt friend must have known that, if they failed to
answer my allegations in a manly and decent way, there was a danger that I
would have to publicise your parts in my trial as crooked lady lesbian
judges.
I
do not criticise you for being lesbians - one of my late wife’s best friends
was a lesbian - but this relationship had to be disclosed to show the strong
connection between you two. A lesbian would risk her career to assist a
fellow lesbian, but a fellow lesbian only. I now hope that you will have the
courage to do what your male fellow conspirators do not have the courage to
do, that is to take me to court and challenge me to produce my evidence,
which I assure you I do have within my thousands of pages of evidence. It
has been my life’s ambition to have my trial re-heard before a proper Court
and proper judges. I look forward to meeting you in that nice new
Supreme Court,
which will be a suitable arena for us, as four senior judges will be on
trial for a conspiracy to pervert the course of justice, which of course
means that the whole of the British Justice System will then be on trial.
Worthy of the Supreme Court?
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