Christmas and New Year have been and gone and now if ever, is the time for January blues. We had the mildest December on record and as ever the English press had a field day with their headlines: ‘Tits out at Noel as temperatures soar.’

Now, a pervading gnawy wet damp coldly blankets the northwest. I have to actively remind myself of the bigger picture and sunnier times to come.

I decided that I was allowed to chill for a bit over the season. I’ve had a great time – far too many pies and gins – sinking deeper and deeper into the rocky spiral of ultra-slobdom.

Maybe I should I snap out before I lose a trouser size?

My across-the-road neighbour Helen and her fam are now helping out regularly and the lads and lass on my other allotments are pitching in, so it’s all looking hopeful.

On the Solstice, I should have by rights been dancing naked with Celtic goddesses at the top of the field, but they were all booked up, so I was happy just to peer out the window look at all those hippy social media posts with nice little quotes and pictures. In the end Helen and Eleanor and I huddled round the stove up there and swilled mulled wine.

Christmas was nice. I seized the reins on Christmas Eve and planned the dinner with pompous military efficiency, preparing a lot of it beforehand. When it came to serving, Gaz was my efficient helper. There should have been ten of us, but we were down to six due to lurgy. The four Hartley’s gobbled theirs in minutes, while Spider and Gaz nibbled leisurely betwixt meaningful conversation, like they do in France. Louise and I were twitching to clear the plates away and get washed up. ‘No pressure then.’ said Spider.

Our hallmark big NYE party went by the wayside again, due to lurgy, but we managed a little family gathering on the ranch which was most apt. The view of the fireworks at midnight in the town below was stunning.

Eleanor's artwork


Now is the time for planning the season ahead, which is not without excitement.

As ever, tasks are roughly split into 3: heavy building and labouring (the road from the track and big foundations under the lean-to); projects such as the sub-station and gardening itself.

Clear, weed and mulch all the beds (I’m no-dig).

Plant seeds – native wild ones which benefit from a cold snap to germinate + onions, tomatoes, chillis and other bits under cover on windowsills and in heated propagators.

Order garlic, spuds, onion sets and more seeds.

Prune the hedges (also way behind).

The Ferguson tractor is battery-charged and running again. Pev and I got in 10 posts for the new greenhouse and the tractor did splendidly in ferrying the posts and postcrete up the hill in very muddy conditions. Helen and I planted the almond tree and my triple compost suite is fully functioning with one compartment ready for spreading as a mulch.

Elsewhere, I’m the family builder trying to get an old house into shape in time for the new arrival. I’ve just tackled a massive dry rot job involving taking out joists and floorboards.


Boxing day dinner cooked on stove


The ranch doesn’t tell lies. It doesn’t feed me propaganda. Its lessons, albeit harsh and bleak, remain consistent and true. It becomes increasingly a haven of peace and relevance as society becomes more shattered and heads and hearts are broke. What? Grow your own food? Near your house? What nonsense. What buffoon suggested that? There’s a perfectly good supermarket across the road with pears grown in Belgium and packed in Thailand.

I’m trying to reach out a bit more to like-minded people (and non-like-minded ones too – no point just singing to the choir). I’ve already had a few visitors. My heart goes out in particular to all those destroyed and isolated by the pandemic and its handling. Anyone feeling lonely, isolated and desperate is most welcome to come ranching any time. Anyone in the NHS under threat of sacking, or just generally struggling is welcome to a free copy of my book – just email. It’s very similar to the blog – just pre-pandemic.

In particular I feel for children and teenagers and as I’ve said before, the lean-to would make a lovely little classroom. Especially when the sides are filled in and I’ve finished the concertina door. The stove will keep it toasty warm. 

NYE on ranch


Annual review?

I don’t do resolutions – it’s just more of the same, but hopefully bigger and better with more focus.

I looked at my despatch from this time last year Revolution of the reasonable and I was saying the same old things then – I don’t half repeat myself.

The ranch has just been the same old steady trickle of progress. There’s now a fully functioning two-storey greenhouse with splendid views over the town and I’m well on the way to sorting off-grid power.

Elsewhere, the biggie is leaving medicine. I left because I knew that vaccine mandates were coming and I couldn’t sanction spiking children. I also couldn’t countenance the decimation of medical ethics and I had to be out to speak out.

I said before that the catalyst was  a car parking incident where I threatened with a fine. As if it isn’t shit enough for NHS workers?

The real catalyst though came before that, when a very senior colleague who I like and admire immensely said ‘I’m not coming near you’. It was a sad stomach jolter and I quietly thought to myself ‘It’s time to go’.  I fear that I’m just an embarrassing black sheep loon in their eyes now that I’m gone.

I had a jolt of joy over Xmas when I realised I didn’t have to go again, but I do think of my colleagues a lot. I was involved in a minor medical situation recently and I thought ‘I could sort that’, so maybe I do miss it.




Different people have different styles when it comes to taking on bullying (make no mistake about it, vaccine mandates for NHS workers = bullying). Mine is fair, but nevertheless somewhat brutal. At the old place, a long time ago, after horrendous bullying of nurses, I sharpened my sword, saddled up, then went after the bullies and didn’t stop until almost all of their spikes were occupied. I couldn’t possibly be around the one that remained, so I went.

I could never have done that at the dirty old town that welcomed a maverick like me, where I had so many lovely colleagues who I loved dearly. I never had a single gripe with anybody on a personal level.

We also lost our lovely friend Judith to breast cancer and many people have lost loved ones and seen their livelihoods destroyed. The challenge has been to retain positivity while living in grief. I fear that there is far more to come.



What’s happening in pandemic land?

Whatever Covid is and wherever it came from, it remains very real and present. In the region of 150 000 people have died in the UK. So many people’s lives are shattered by it and the consequences of the government’s ham-fisted measures. Covid is pro-thrombotic and the long term sequelae are very real for many.

That’s the understatement of the century. THOUSANDS of ordinary decent people are still living with the mental hell of being prevented from being with their loved ones when they died and were in anguish, due to the governments ineffective stupid fucking rules. Hang your head in shame medical profession for carrying out the government’s missives without using your medical training to question them. EVERYTHING involved in keeping families away from their loved ones contravened the four pillars of medical ethics, as do vaccine mandates. There’s a lot of insipid bourgeois dullness out there. At what point will you start to question?

This week’s blockbuster is yet another Downing Street party. A hundred people invited to bring their own booze to a May garden party piss-up on the same day that our vile government told us we could only meet with one person outdoors.

How about all the tossers at Downing street get invited to an outdoor public meeting with all the bereaved families and all those whose livelihoods have been destroyed? I would pay a lot for a front row seat. Maybe in a large public square? You have no concept of the contempt that the British public have for you at the moment you vile, foul, fat Etonian cunt.

Bruised sky


More Omicron:

It’s less severe but far more infectious. I’ve had another stomach-jolting moment realising that Omicron is preferentially infecting vaccinated people  who have already had Covid once before – it seems that the vaccines confer negative benefit with Omicron. I’ve seen this anecdotally, where it’s swept through most of my vaccinated friends and family, thankfully fairly mildly. It’s also affecting unvaccinated people equally mildly.

It’s also backed up by the science, where we’re unequivocally seeing much higher symptomatic cases in the most vaccinated countries. Iceland is a good example.

There are several scientists who have said all along that if you vaccinate during the height of a pandemic, the virus will simply mutate to avoid the vaccine and this is certainly the case with Omicron.

The paradox is that unvaccinated people tend to keep their mouths shut and quietly get on with it, so they don’t appear in the figures. Most of them don’t bother with apps and I’ve no idea where the test and trace farce is up to these days. Conversely if 80% of the population are vaccinated then the proportion attending hospital will reflect that percentage – especially as older people are more likely to need hospitalisation. Because of the current endemicity of Omicron, it goes without saying that a lot will have Omicron when they go into hospital. This doesn’t mean that Omicron is necessarily the cause of their admission. Sadly, the govt figures aren’t sufficiently detailed to be able to tease out these figures.

Muddy tractor tracks


I’ve said before that in the pyramid of evidence (with systemic reviews at the top), anecdote is the weakest. However, when genuine evidence is scant, or censored, or twisted, anecdote becomes a very powerful tool. When everyone that you speak to has seen something remiss within their circle of family, colleagues and friends, they start to ask questions.

I fear that we may be seeing Antibody Dependent Enhancement (Here’s a good explanation) in some of the current severe cases, but it’s impossible to prove. At least severe cases are currently low. We really don’t know how new variants might affect populations, both vaccinated and unvaccinated. The hope is that Omicron will allow herd immunity to genuinely develop. What’s now unequivocally clear is that vaccine passports make no sense whatsoever – medical or otherwise.

My big fear is what the combination of vaccination and re-infection does to the immune system in the longer term. The upside is that it’s becoming easier for people to see what’s really happening. As ever Dr John Campbell continues to provide fairly robust analysis of the emerging data. He’s consistently stood up for Ivermectin and vitamin D.  Jamie Jenkins, former head of health and jobs statistics at the ONS is excellent too at providing clear breakdowns of the latest stats – check him out here on Twitter



I fully expected De Pfeffel to introduce more restrictions after Xmas and he didn’t. I think he realised that he would just have massive non-compliance on his hands. Perhaps he knew that the revelation of yet another big Downing Street party was about to pop. How could a single person now support this vile slob? Surely he has to go? His cringing half-apology just makes things worse.

NHS managers are by and large decent people doing their best like everyone else. They’ve never had to deal with the massive administrative burden of sacking colleagues in large numbers. The truth is that they don’t have a f’ing clue how to do it and they certainly don’t have the resources. What’s more, their hearts probably aren’t in it. They can see for themselves the massive levels of staff sickness in the triple-jabbed whilst those with natural immunity quietly get on with it.

There are also high levels of sickness due to sheer exhaustion. Unlawfully sacking NHS workers can only be a massive fuck-up further fucking an already fucked NHS. Billiard-ball head and co must be reading this in their algorithms and AI predictions. Maybe just maybe they’re planning on back-pedalling? I don’t think that they anticipated the integrity of well-informed NHS workers who have the courage to stand up for the central medical principle of bodily autonomy, and not sway in their resolve. I just can’t see how stupidly sacking NHS workers can possibly work logistically.

Some people are saying that it’s part of the drive to undermine the NHS, speeding up its Americanisation and privatisation.

Maintenance supervisor


The right to bodily autonomy?

There have been two events of great precedent this week.

The first is Novak Djokovic’s enormous courage in sticking to his right for bodily autonomy, having recently had Covid and acquired immunity. He, an under-dog who grew up in war-torn Serbia, has taken on the might of the Australian government and won. He’s done a lot of charity work in Serbia and he’s a massive advert for veganism.

The second is King’s anaesthetic consultant Steve James’ dramatic take-down of Javid on Sky TV. James calmly points out his right to trust his infection-acquired immunity, then he concisely elucidates the science including the waning effect of the jabs.

Both events have increased awareness of the truth, but inevitably have led to more polarisation and hatred. 

Meanwhile, it’s getting more and more difficult to find the truth. Djokovic has his own foundation which some are saying is linked to the World Economics Forum. A lot of eminent doctors and scientists, who have been banned from Twitter are going over to GETTR, which is run by former Trump aide Jason Miller. The platform is clearly pro-Trump. GB News also platforms many questioners. Some people say that the platform is irrelevant if the truth comes out, but I’m not sure.

New foundations


There are also some brave lawyers taking on NHS Trusts and the government. Unfortunately there comes a point in tyranny, when the rule of law is lost. I remember an account of a brilliant lawyer grilling Hitler in court, proving the link between him and storm-troopers murdering people in the streets. The lawyer won on that occasion, but he was nevertheless murdered later.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who is struggling to know what to think, amidst the morass of information and mis-information. I’m hanging my hat on the certainties, not the speculations. For me, that means sticking up for NHS workers and all those fucked by the govt’s handling of it all.

I did one interview with a film-maker friend. It got around 5000 views on YT before getting taken down. Ironically, they used the section of my interview about censorship. The whole process made me feel uncomfortable. A friend warned me that I could easily be misconstrued and taken advantage of. I’ve decided to stick to the blog as my voice, and if I do any more videos, I’ll film and edit them myself.



Down the Rabbit Hole

In previous despatches, I’ve used the concept of The Billion Dollar unit of absolute corruption, then I’ve given a specific example.

Sajid Javid for example and his previous employment with Deutche Bank and its dark affiliations, in the Going out without a bang post. The idea is that all these units link up into an astonishing mind-boggling network.

This week’s unit is Anthony Charles Lynton Blair, former barrister and UK prime minister.

He’s in the news because he’s up for a knighthood and so far there are approaching a million objections on a petition.

This is perhaps the darkest of the rabbit holes and it would take far too long to go into great detail but here are a few pointers, where each is very easy to investigate via a non-tracking search engine.

There’s a lot of stuff going round the internet saying ‘Miranda – if you know, you know’.

Charles Lynton is alleged to have been done for cottaging in 1983 and fined £50 at Bow St magistrates court.

He went to Fettes  private school in Edinburgh, where he was close mates with Knox Cunningham who was alleged to have been part of a high-level paedophile ring.

His right-hand man was Peter Mendelson (now advising Starmer). There are photos of Mendelson with Jeffrey Epstein, including one taken after Epstein had been convicted of sex offences. Here’s a map of the extensive web of Epstein contacts.

There’s a school of thought that thinks Blair was levered into the Iraq genocide via his handler at the behest of the CIA and the Bush govt.

High level assassinations take place in the UK far less than they do in America. An exception is Gill Dando. She was a highly respected senior BBC presenter who was murdered with a single shot to the back of her head on 26th April 1999. She was a friend of Cliff Richard’s as were the Blairs. The word on the street is that she was about to blow the lid on some nastiness at the highest level.

All this is dark scary stuff, but people have the right to know what the super-powerful get up to, because it all links in to what’s going on currently. D-notices abound around a lot of this stuff, but it’s still possible to investigate it.


The Gherkins are getting uppity


Rock & Roll

is fallow, but still pottering on. Gaz and I finished the Damaged by Gherkins song. I came up with the idea of making use of some of the jars of neglected gherkins in the cellar and I made a very basic video using gherkins on chop sticks and my little model cars. It’s very anti-mainstream narrative, so I’m expecting it to get banned.

I’m still playing my guitar. At the moment I’m preferring doing stuff from home. I’m not sure that I’ll do full-on loud gigs again because of my tinnitus.