ANNA RACCON AND IAN PARKER JOSEPH WHATS THE LINK?

 WHY IS IT SINCE IPJ TOOK OVER THE OFFICIAL HOLLIE GREIG SITE THERE HAS BEEN NOTHING ON IT FOR 2 YEARS ?


WHAT IS HIS FAKE FALL OUT WITH RACCOON ALL ABOUT?

Image result for ian parker joseph


PS USE TOR WHEN VISITING HIS SITE 🙂

https://twitter.com/IanPJ

IAN PARKER JOSEPH

HERES A QUESTION WHY DID IAN PARKER JOSEPH DELETE ALL TRACE OF THIS?

NICE TO SEE THE MANIAC COMMENTING ON HER BLOG NOW 🙂

NONCE WATCH GUESS WHO IS BACK TAE HER OLD TRICKS,RACOON NUNDY BLACKIE

http://ift.tt/1UGdf3O

HERE IS A PIECE ON  WATKINS OLD PAL GATEKEEPER AND SHILL

Anna Raccoon – taken at face value?

There has in the last few days been the most despicable and revolting blog post that I have read in a long time.
I am ashamed, not for who I am or what I believe in, but for the
disgusting display of pack animals on the basis of unsubstantiated
allegations by Susanne Nundy (Anna Raccoon), especially from those who
claim to be libertarian.
I am disappointed to the point of being disgusted. Disgusted that so
very few indicated that every story has two sides, and that not one
single person said the words ‘prove it’, or ‘where is the evidence’, and
it says more about the hive mentality of the audience than the
delusions of the writer.
Susanne Nundy, aka Anna Raccoon has decided to air some of her dirty
washing in public, yet when we delve deeper into her past and her
possible motives, it creates a very different view to her latest story
line, because Susanne Nundy has been acting to destabilise the
Libertarian Party since its inception, creating problems for the
Leadership of the party at every opportunity.
But before we get too far into the Nundy past, let me refute completely
her version of events with regards to myself and the actions of Rohan
Kapur.
The very first I had heard of this ‘incident’ was when I received a late
night telephone call at 11pm on the day that Rohen had left her home.
She recalled that she had been in touch by email with Rohan over a
period of time, that online conversations led on to the matter of
property, that Rohan was looking to buy such a property and that she had
a second property that she had for sale. As such she had invited him to
France to look at it, and as he had not booked any accommodation for
his visit decided to put him up at home for the 2 days he was to be
there.
She then explained the ‘events’ of the food eating, the photo’s and the
computer use and asked of me ‘what are you going to do about it’.
My response was that if true, such allegations were somewhat serious,
but what would she like me to do about it, because as far as I was
concerned this was a private matter and nothing to do with the party and
I didn’t understand why she would call me over his behaviour.
At this point she then demanded, and I mean demanded, that because Rohen
was a Libertarian PPC it was my business, that he was unsuitable as a
candidate, that I should discuss this with Andrew (who apart from being
Chairman at that time was also acting as the candidate selection
officer) and if necessary call a special NCC meeting to have Rohen
deselected. She also demanded a full and unreserved apology from Rohen
Kapur, because her husband was ready to start legal proceedings unless
LPUK did something about him.
It was at this point that she advised me of Rohen’s mental health
problems, told me that she had seen his medical record and actually read
back to me a list of conditions that were in that file, along with a
series of matters that were before the GMC. (that is the first time that
my alarm bells began to ring with regards to Susanne Nundy). When asked
how she had access to these files, she indicated that some former
colleagues had advised her of Rohan’s unsuitability… which if she had
known beforehand… would never have invited him to France… Yet she had
this information to hand to read to me on the day he left…
Her apparent ability to gain access to private and confidential
documentation is something that I will come back to later in this post.
What she didn’t know, and I didn’t tell her was that Rohan had actually
approached me 2 months earlier, had advised of his ongoing legal
problems with the GMC and had voluntarily agreed to be deselected.
The following day I did speak with Andrew about this, who in turn called
Susanne Nundy. I also called Rohan, repeated the allegations, many of
which he absolutely denied (and still does), and suggested that he
should produce a full apology in order to end this matter.
At no time was her telephone call remarked to be ‘in confidence’. She
wanted action and wanted it NOW. As a result there was a special NCC
meeting, the outcome being that Rohan Kapur was suspended from the
party, a decision I have to say I now regret.
With hindsight I should have stuck to my original line of ‘nothing to do
with the party’, and I put this down to set-up #1. As with her post
about Andrew Withers, there was no evidence, only her allegations and
again she manages to conflate what are private matters with party
business.
I would call this a set-up simply because Susanne Nundy has a history.
Wherever there is a story of abuse by officials, especially when it
relates to children or paedophilia, up pops a swathe of names including
Anna Raccoon, Susanne Nundy or under her maiden name Susanne
Cameron-Blackie , all ready to ‘assist’, yet strangely the outcome is
never the one that those originally abused, or their campaigners
envisaged. More often than not they are ripped apart, labelled as
nutters and thrown to the pack in the manner we saw with her post about
Andrew Withers yesterday. Its almost as if she is a professional Trojan
Horse.
Susanne’s own career in the Lord Chancellor’s department is not
necessarily what you imagine it was. Whilst she continually presents
herself as a lawyer, she can call herself a lawyer only insomuch as she
has a law degree, but I can find no records that she ever qualified as a
solicitor or barrister and was never called to the bar. (if I am wrong
perhaps she has some physical evidence to the contrary, such as
certificates or photos that can be published).
No, Susanne Nundy was a ‘Lord Chancellor’s visitor’, as such she was
little more than a glorified social worker, but with special powers.

The Lord Chancellor can appoint a Court of Protection visitor to a panel
of special visitors or a panel of general visitors. These visitors
replace the current Lord Chancellor’s visitors under Section 102 of the
Mental Health Act 1983. To be eligible for appointment as a special
visitor a person must be a registered medical practitioner or appear to
the Lord Chancellor to have other suitable training or special
knowledge. However, a general visitor does not need to have any
particular medical qualifications.
Visitors have the power to carry out visits and produce reports as
directed by the court or the public guardian. They have the power to
examine and take copies of documents or records held by authorities that
relate to the protected person, and also have the power to interview
the protected person in private. Special visitors also have the powers
to carry out medical examinations if necessary. The Code of Practice
indicates that visitors have a role to play in investigating possible
abuse and also to check on the general well-being of a person who lacks
capacity.(source)

A lot of power, especially if the person concerned is slightly unstable (as per the Mental Health Act).
Susanne claims to have moved to France in 2005, either 5 years or 2
years after having left the Lord Chancellors office (depending on which
of her versions you read), yet here is her LinkedIn profile
showing her as a Lord Chancellors visitor (DCA) located in erm…
Aquitaine, France. (It is worth noting that the DCA was only added after
the Tony Blair shake-up of that department, with the Dept of
Constitutional Affairs added to it in 2005), and it is my understanding
that her career with the Lord Chancellors office came to an end when she
put in a claim under the Mental Health Act for Post Traumatic Stress
Disorder and walked away with a cool £250,000 of taxpayers money in
compensation (her original claim was reported to be £500,000).
That her investments in property with that compensation money have gone
awry, leaving her in a parlous financial state must give cause to
consider that doing ‘favours’ for the department is a financial motive
worth considering.
That Andrew Withers is winning his battles where they should be won, in
court, would not stop the more unscrupulous from using smear campaigns
to discredit where the attempted legal avenues have been discovered to
be littered with lies, perjury, forgeries and malfeasance.
It was after discovering these elements of her past that I perhaps
wondered if she was still doing ‘favours’ for old colleagues. Consider
that Rohan Kapur was also winning or at least holding his own in his
legal battles with the GMC, how better to dispose of a thorn in their
side than a public discrediting of him. Also take her post on the Hollie
Greg campaign which was also beginning to gain traction, another public
shredding from Anna Raccoon.
Earlier I referred to her access to private and confidential
documentation, because in each case she seems to have obtained or at
least had sight of private or confidential documentation that is
certainly not in the public domain, and in the case of Hollie Greg
documentation that was sealed, not even available to the family. Just
how does Susanne Nundy gain access to such confidential documentation
unless she still works for government, or it is being fed to her.
As others have said “let’s face it, there’s no more cruel a kick than the kick of a Trojan Horse”.
Never forget, that there are always multiple levels to politics. What
the public see and read in the press and media is a very sanitised end
presentation, what goes on in the background and in dark corners is what
some of us have been dealing with and exposing every day for many
years. We have always been aware that there would be attempts to
destabilise the Libertarian Party, to stop it forming into a coherent
political force in the same way using similar methods that were tried on
UKIP in its early days, and the biggest beneficiary to that
destabilisation would be the DCA as I have written about in the past.
Could Anna Raccoon really be a trojan horse for the DCA and other
government departments? Because it’s certainly beginning to look like it
from where I sit.
But please, all this information is in the public domain, so take your
own time to look it up to satisfy yourselves that this is real, and to
give you some further insight, here are some observations on the
contradictions that are Anna Raccoon, from a black ops watcher, Blackwatch from September last year.

Susanne Nundy is just as baffling a proposition. For
those unfamiliar with the story, Susanne Nundy is the name used by
British Libertarian blogger, Anna Raccoon, more popularly known for her posts about the Madeleine McCann and Hollie Greig stories and a favourite of the Nbrado-run, Chaos Raptors website (who seem to have blocked my IP this week, from what I can gather).
Nundy and Greg Watkins are alleged to have co-managed a disinformation
campaign around the Hollie Greig case by an equally dubious set of Greig
supporters (the kind that give Andrew Marr all the amunition he needs
to make sweeping generalisations)
Why did ‘Susanne Nundy’ or whoever she is – use the email address courtofprotection.co.uk?
The Court of Protection as it exists now, was set up by Jack Straw and New Labour in 2005 (created under the Mental Capacity Act 2005). In the Inexorable choices
post Nundy says she was in office in 2003 (just as Blair ditched the
office of Lord Chancellor) and yet in an email she sent me yesterday,
Raccoon insists she had resigned the office in 2000 (which I’m happy to
forward to anyone who requests it). But even Chris Carter, her
replacement in 2004, insists she was working at this time.
Interestingly the email address alleged to have ‘outed’ Anna Raccoon (and I use the term cautiously) was left on a website for Old Scholars at St Christopher’s School
in Letchworth, Hertfordshire – an old and respected boarding school set
up by Beatrice Ensor – a close friend of Fabian Socialist and
Freemason, Annie Besant and sponsored by Helena Blavtasky’s Theosophical Society
– a weird and slightly extreme religious group influenced by new age
and Aryan mysticism (imagine David Icke with some serious political
backers and a decent night’s sleep).
But all this sounds a bit too good to be true in my opinion: leaving a
breadcrumb trail to some weird theosophical preparatory school with
links to Freemasons and Fabian Socialism? Throw in a few references to
the Lord Chancellor and working for the Court of Protection? No,
something just doesn’t sit right with me. It’s all too neat. Like my
Christmasses have all come early. Things like this don’t just fall into
your lap so easily, do they?
On the otherhand, its seems unlikely that the email address was left
deliberately (as breadcrumbs) as it appears as far back in the wayback
records as January 2004 so she must have been using it around the time.
Why Nundy was using an email address that alluded to a governmental role
but which clearly hadn’t been registered through any formal government
department remains unclear (the domain name doesn’t have the expected
TLD .gov.uk – like that of the Supreme Court, for instance).
A parking page for the courtofprotection.co.uk website from March 2003 suggests the original courtofprotection.co.uk site was set up and maintained in France.
The domain makes one appearance in 2003 and then disappears – so make
what you will of the credibility of the site ro her claims.
I’m also finding it difficult to reconcile Susanne Nundy’s celebrated
‘Libertarian’ ideals with the idea of her working with such a crudely
draconian, insidious and cheerfully Orwellian institution as the Court
of Protection. I’ve seen her attempts to address this fairly awkward little paradox in her blog. She says it wasn’t an invention of ‘Nu Labour’ and Jack Straw – but that’s just being pedantic.
It had existed in one form or another for years, but New Labour extended
its powers and its reach exponentially in 2005 (whilst simultaneously
incapacitating the power of carers and relatives). It was rebranded,
relaunched. According to a Daily Telegraph report, the Court of
Protection’s expansion had been controversial’ not only for its extensive powers but also for the fact that almost all of its hearings take place in private‘.
My guess, is that like Shrimpton and Bennett the character going by the
name of Nundy doesn’t know whether she’s extremely right or extremely
left. However, I suppose the distribution of any ideal can be skewed and
uneven on occasion. Just look at the blogs she claims to read
– they don’t get more skewed than that. If I was being pedantic (now
heaven forbid) I’d say the miscellaneous nature of it made it look more
like a webring or a linkfarm of sorts.
But what better way to manage opinion than by managing both sides?

Could Susanne Nundy really be a protector of paedophile rings inside
government institutions as is alleged by some of Hollie Greig’s
supporters? Was the use of her LinkedIn profile, the fake court of
protection email address & website in France a prelude to something
more sinister? Further discrepancies are investigated by BW in the
comments.

Not too impressed with this ‘Anna Raccoon’, I have to say. She was
tripping herself up left right and centre in emails we exchanged
yesterday. One minute she was saying she hadn’t placed her name and
email address on the St Christopher’s Old Scholars page
– that someone else had – (susanne.nundy@courtofprotection.co.uk) the
next she was saying she had given permission afterall (after I’d pointed
out that I’d been in touch with David Curzons who manages the Old
Scholars page and he said old scholars MUST request it themselves).
She says in her ‘Intimidation and cooercion‘ post that “the e-mail address given is not and has never been a genuine e-mail address.”
But if it was not a genuine email address: how could St Christophers contact her using that address to add her to the list as she told me yesterday?
She also says she never used the courtofprotection.co.uk address after retiring in 2000 but the domain is there in the wayback archives in 2003 – under construction in France – where she lives.
Raccoon’s site is down for ‘maintenance’ at the moment
so I can well imagine she is altering some of her posts as we speak in
the event the Office of the Public Guardian start looking more closely
at her claims.
Here’s what she says in her ‘Inexorable choices‘ post:
“I worked in the Lord Chancellor?s Office the last time Labour
(under Tony Blair) made one of their knee jerk attempts at reforming the
constitution to suit themselves. Blair got up one morning and
?abolished? the Lord Chancellor. Chaos ensued.” – nb: this was 2003-2005.
And here’s what Ms Nundy says in an email to me yesterday:
“I most certainly was not working as a Visitor after 2000. I let the
domain lapse. I have no idea who re-registered it. I didn?t move to
France until 2005 so the fact that it was someone in France has no
suspicious connections with me.”
And again, in a previous email:
“Mrs Nundy ceased to use the courtofprotection.co.uk address in 2000
when she retired from work. What has happened to it since then is of no
interest to me, nor relevance.”
Does she always talk about herself
in the third person? Here’s another of Ms Nundy’s ‘out of body
experiences’ (or travels in the third person narrative) – a rather
flattering report she did about ‘the blogger’ Anna Raccoon. Herself by any other name.
She’s not lying exactly. She’s not telling the truth exactly. In one breath she says she retired in 2000 – and in another breath says she was working in the Lord Chancellor’s Office in 2003.
That she’s been involved in this work seems certain in many respects
but she seems to have lied about all the timings. Why? And how does one
balance her propensity for lying with her devotion as a Quaker (anyone
remember the ‘testimony of integrity’ and such like)?
Has Raccoon just been impersonating Ms Nundy? Sounds dumb, but who knows, given the lies thus far.

I shall leave you to draw your own conclusions.
.
UPDATE 19/4/11
After having received several comments purporting to be from ‘different
commenters’ using the same IP address, the comments on this post are now
closed.
The IP and user information relating to those comments will be passed to the police.





 

 

 

Libertarian Liberties

by Anna Raccoon on April 14, 2011
A while ago, two years and three months,
to be precise, I was reading through the on-line political blogs, Guido,
Dale, Old Holborn, the usual suspects, and thinking ‘where are all the
women’? 50% of the voting population, and yet rarer than a blue parrot
in northern Brazil. The few examples that dared to flap their wings were
set upon by hungry misogynistic vultures.
I devoured every scrap of information I
could acquire on the various political parties, and discovered that
Guido claimed to be something called a ‘Libertarian’. Now branching out
into research on Libertarian beliefs, I thought I had found a home for
myself. They seemed to accord with my Quaker principles of personal
responsibility, a duty to help other people whenever you can, and a
commensurate belief that there was no need for a vast government
apparatus to dictate where and when we gave our fellow citizens a
helping hand.
Thinking I might set up a female friendly
blog along these lines, I e-mailed Old Holborn and outlined my plans;
He replied inviting me to contribute to his new blog. I accepted the
offer. Life with Old Holborn is never boring; he has an ego the size of
Luxembourg, but matched by a heart the size of Belgium. I learnt a great
deal from him, and whilst not always trusting his judgement, I did
value his advice.
I joined the Libertarian Party. £15 and I
got a very nice key ring. I didn’t get an invitation to the Libertarian
Party forum, didn’t know there was one, or a members blog. The inner
sanctum was reserved for the gentlemen it seems.
I was pleased to receive an e-mail from
Henry North-London, a psychiatrist and Doctor, the parliamentary
candidate for the Libertarian Party for Wood Green, and a frequent
commentator on my posts. Several e-mails followed, always with the same
entreaty to phone him. Eventually I did.
It is a long story but to summarise;
Henry was leaving England, taking up a post with a French hospital, was
aware that I had a cottage to rent, and would be pleased to fly to
Bergerac if I would be kind enough to meet him.
My husband and I hadn’t got out of the
airport car park with ‘Henry’ before we realised that he was patently
unwell. ‘Henry’ gave every indication of being as mad as a box of frogs.
I do not condemn him for suffering from mental illness; however, we had
volunteered to put him in our guest room for the night. Two hours of
listening to someone hold three different conversations at once whilst
binge eating exhausted us.
A very early night for all was the only
solution. We ‘parked’ the manic Henry one end of the house, and
collapsed into our own room.
‘Henry’, or Dr Rohen Kapur, to give him his full kennel name, doesn’t sleep. He got up again.
During the course of that night, he
commandeered my husband’s computer, signed him up to Skype, registered
him with Gaydar, (keep a straight face folks, it gets better) held a
lengthy 5am – 5am! – Skpye conversation with Ian Parker-Joseph, then
leader of the Libertarian party, whilst exchanging e-mails with
gentlemen from around the world who were pleased to forward photographs
of their penis to this new registrant on Gaydar, and continuing to munch
his way through the contents of our fridge.
When my husband came down to make tea, he
snapped shut the lid of the lap top, and claimed he was just collecting
his e-mail. We had no idea anything else had occurred.
Later, as we were driving him back to the
airport, he showed me all the photographs he had taken of every
ornament, every book, and every inch of our home. I asked him to delete
them. He refused, they were for his Mother, he said. Since we were by
now turning into the airport, it was a matter of a tussle for the mobile
phone, or just breathe a sigh of relief and turf him out of the car.
Guess!
Returning home, I opened the fridge door
at about the same time as a howl of rage from the husband. This wasn’t
the time to tell him that the fridge had been stripped bare. Something
was wrong with his computer.
It was busy opening up page after page of
photographs of supernaturally large members. Dozens of them. Penile,
not the Dishonourable House of Commons variety. Some of their proud
owners were offering to shag Mr G into the ground if only he would be
kind enough to reciprocate with a photograph of his own….words don’t
really do the scene justice.
We went out for dinner. No other option.
A few days later Skype wrote and told me
that our fledgling Skype subscription, never used by us, had been
suspended for contravening article xyz of the Telecommunication Act…
A week later, around the time Mr G recovered his power of speech, I heard of a more worrying development.
Dr Kapur, ‘Henry’, had arrived at the
hospital bedside of someone I was in e-mail contact with. Coincidence? I
shall never know. This man had been immobile in hospital for a year and
was feeling exceptionally vulnerable. Henry had shown him all the
photographs of the inside of our home as evidence of his friendship with
this French based lawyer, and worse, was recommending that he ignore
the advice of the Hospital Doctors, and take Vitamin D, as prescribed by
the troubled Dr Kapur. Not surprisingly, my friend was concerned, and
wanted to know if he was dangerous in my opinion; his wife and children
were at home and he had no way of protecting them.
I was alarmed; I contacted Ian
Parker-Joseph, in confidence; I really didn’t know what else to do. I
have to say that a languid ‘he’s only been ‘Sectioned’ the once, insofar
as I know’ is not really the reassurance I was looking for in respect
of the party’s electoral candidate.
I didn’t expect my confidential enquiry
to Parker-Joseph to go any further; however, within 30 minutes I got an
extraordinary e-mail from Dr Kapur, telling me that Parker-Joseph had
just phoned him, he admitted everything but said that he hadn’t meant to
upset me……I also heard from Andrew P Withers, then Treasurer of the
party. He too, had been told of my troubles and wanted to reassure me.
Yes, Kapur was as mad as a box of frogs, but not dangerous.
Both Andrew Withers and myself were then
subjected to a vitriolic series of e-mails, apparently from friends of
Kapur and other psychiatrists, who all seemed to have had difficulties
with the GMC and been suspended….the fiasco had taken on Alice in
Wonderland proportions.
If this was representative of the
Libertarian Party, I wanted out! Andrew Withers was incredibly
supportive, and reassured me that the Libertarian Party was keen to
retain members like myself. In England, I met Andrew in person; he
seemed very friendly and charming. Good fun, in fact. All would be
changing shortly, he reassured me once more. Stick with us, renew your
subscription, and all will be well. I did. It did. Chris Mounsey was
eventually elected leader. That was the last newsletter I ever received.
I seemed to have fallen off the mailing list.
I kept quiet about my meeting with the
Dr. Kapur. By that time Old Holborn and I were raising money to get Nick
Hogan out of jail, and bleating about my difficulties seemed
counter-productive. Besides, with Nick Hogan successfully released, Old
Holborn was going to stand for parliament himself, and wanted to appoint
me his election agent.
Finding yourself legally responsible for the behaviour of a mav
erick like Old Holborn is akin to playing Russian roulette, blindfold,
with bullets in five chambers. I will never know how the cylinder
managed to revolve to the empty chamber each and every time.
I was grateful for Andrew P Withers’
apparent expertise in electoral matters during the election period, it
wasn’t an area of law I knew anything about. He has researched it in
depth.
Meanwhile, Dr Kapur, despite yet another
hearing at the GMC concerning his fitness to practice as a psychiatrist,
was standing as an independent candidate in Wood Green. He had also
taken to posting as ‘Clarissa’ or some such name on the web site of two
‘Libertarians’ who had taken an instant dislike to me and whose site
appeared at times to be entirely devoted to derogatory articles
regarding myself.  This was no time to make public my misgivings
concerning the Party.

I heard nothing from the Libertarian
Party save the constant flow of e-mails from Andrew P Withers. Always
friendly, he begged me to renew my lapsed membership. He told me of his
own troubles. He had been ‘targeted by Peter Mandelson’ as a fellow
politician and a threat to that mighty beast of the Labour Party. That
was why he hadn’t been able to stand for leadership of the party
himself; but he did intend to do so in the future, please would I have
patience? He wanted to see an inclusive party, not rent by factions,
properly financed, with regular newsletters, everyone able to access the
blog and the forum, and he was going to clear out all those who merely
used the blog to abuse others. It sounded promising.
In the meantime, since I was a lawyer,
could I help him with some of his submissions to the courts, battling
his troubles? I obviously couldn’t give him formal advice, I am not
licensed to practice in France, but I could help him informally.
The ‘trolling’ of my site, the vicious
e-mails that arrived daily, my ‘outing’ as a result of having been
publicly named as Old Holborn’s election agent, were taking their toll.
My health was deteriorating, and it became increasingly difficult to
write something cheerful each day with so much intrigue and confusion in
the background. I decided to throw the towel in and give up the blog.
Since I had by then invested in some valuable software, I decided to
offer it to anyone who would make use of it.
Enter Thaddeus J Wilson. I have always
known of his other blogging identities but never knew who he was in real
life, despite having met him. Thaddeus persuaded me to keep writing,
and he would deal with the e-mails and trolls, and contribute as well.
Andrew would also contribute.
That was fine, except – Old Holborn had
gleaned a scrap of information during my visit to England which had
seemed monumentally unimportant to me – he gave me a lift to my
destination one morning, later using that information to devastating
effect to settle a score with an old enemy. I ended up taking the brunt
of that score settling for having ‘revealed’ important information.
I was, for a long time, as mad as bloody
Hell. I do believe the phrase ‘f**k you’ escaped my lips at the time, or
words to that effect. Most unladylike. However, he has long since been
gracious enough to apologise and been forgiven. Enough said, I have a
lot of respect for Old Holborn, he is a maverick, he is irrepressible,
tiresomely energetic, and the original loose cannon. Hence I have a soft
spot for him…..
I was glad of Andrew’s contributions,
regretting somewhat my agreement to keep writing on the blog. It had my
name on it, and I felt honour bound to keep it up to a certain standard.
Andrew P Withers’ help came at a price of course.
First there were the endless submissions
to the court to format, correct the spelling and grammar, and take out
the paranoid observations regarding Peter Mandelson ‘spying on his web
site’. That sort of uncorroborated opinion doesn’t impress judges.
As fast as I finished one submission, another would be e-mailed to me. More evidence of how he had been ‘targeted’.
Andrew had asked me several times to
provide money, both to re-launch the Libertarian Party, and to ‘invest’
in his ‘multi-million pound business interests’ in Africa. The answer
had always been the same. I wasn’t in a position to help anybody
financially whilst we had two houses, maybe when we had sold one.
The court case was hotting up – somehow I
never saw the submissions from the other side, I only got to see the
material that was flowing back to the court – corrected and formatted by
me.
Then a few days before the hearing, a
panicked phone call from Andrew. His French barrister, a ‘dear, dear
friend’, who had toiled ceaselessly at no cost to Andrew to prepare
evidence of Mandelson’s dastardly doings from the French side of things,
purely because he was so outraged at the injustice of it all, was
needed as an ‘essential witness’.
Andrew felt that the ‘least he could do
was pay his expenses’, but couldn’t get Euros transferred to him until
the day before the hearing – a week hence – not enough time to organise
flights. Could I possibly send him 3,000 in Euros to cover his expenses,
and Andrew would put the money into my account in pounds – I would
receive it next Tuesday at the latest!
Actually I couldn’t. I only had 2,000
euros available. It seems that would have to do. He e-mailed me back
with the details of the French barrister’s bank account and his ‘undying
gratitude’ to me.
Strangely, ‘next Tuesday’ the money
failed to appear in my bank account, but with the court case the
following day, I was too well mannered to berate Andrew.
The result of the court case was a
surprise. It seems Andrew had voluntarily consented to being declared a
man unfit to hold office for 5 ½ years by the insolvency service. This
was, I was assured, merely a technicality; Andrew had agreed to the five
and a half years because he couldn’t afford to fight the case any
longer, and the judge ‘so obviously disagreed’ with this decision that
he was allowing Andrew to continue to act as a Director in the meantime,
pending an appeal.
The following eight months have been an
education. It seems that the money had failed to appear in my bank
account because ‘one of his financial advisers’ who was handling the
‘inward investment’ for his massive interests in Africa had gone on
holiday to Malta. He would be back on Tuesday and I would get my money
back then.
‘See you next Tuesday’ was a phrase that was to loom large in our lives for months afterwards.
Next Tuesday arrived, and lo! The MD of
yet another multi-national company had gone to New York; the papers
would be signed, ooh, by next Tuesday at the latest…
Then the next Tuesday, it seems that the money was coming via Brazil, it would arrive in Guernsey, by, let’s see, next Tuesday?
It must have been travelling by
submarine, for there was no sighting of it for several weeks, not so
much as a periscope. However, things were happening. The CEO of yet
another well known multi-national company was flying in to meet Andrew;
he would be tied up for several days in meetings. There were
‘contractual matters’ to attend to, and lo! The money would be with me
by……Bluddy Tuesday. Yes, I am aware of the old joke regarding ‘See yo
u next Tuesday’, I just hadn’t made the connection yet.
For months, MDs flew hither and thither,
CEOs arrived in LHX, the world was full of acronyms, and Andrew was a
busy man. Nobody ever just phoned him up; he ‘took conference calls’.
Andrew had apparently swallowed whole the book of Management Speak.
The date for the next hearing grew
closer, and there was a strange development. He was, he told me,
depressed and deeply disappointed. The dastardly French barrister had
issued a bill to Andrew for his work so far. There had never, he told
me, been any question of payment; it had purely been on the basis of
long standing friendship and his outrage at the injustice facing Andrew.
Naturally Andrew had broken off all communication with him; Andrew and
his wife were desperately upset at this calumny and the loss of a
friend.
I now know all this to be utterly untrue.
How? Because the French barrister has forwarded to me all Andrew’s
e-mails to him, dating back to before the original hearing. Far from
believing ‘his friend’ to be working for nothing, Andrew had agreed a
3,450 euro fee before the hearing, to be followed – in Andrew’s own
words – by ‘a monthly retainer of 2,500 Euros as our legal counsel’. –
and final insult, he was offering the barrister a carrot in the form of
‘more work from’ – none other than Anna Raccoon!
The rest of the e-mails are curiously
reminiscent of Andrew’s to me. Endless promises, ‘inward investment’
always about to happen, etc., etc.
Still, I was not to worry about Andrew,
everything would be fine. Ian Parker-Joseph had put up a blog post
detailing the latest ‘outrage’ against him, and had a reply from another
barrister who was prepared to help him pro-bono. It turned out to be a
good friend of mine.
Meanwhile, Andrew was obviously too
preoccupied with injustice to do more than offer grammatically scrambled
blogposts that needed reformatting, the new barrister and I were both
ploughing through international law books to see whether Mandelson was
justified in trying to ban Andrew from representing anybody, anywhere,
under any circumstances…..and a long week-end of vitriolic e-mails from
my trolling friends had convinced me that it was not worth the candle,
stuff the blog!

Andrew was hysterical – I couldn’t shut
the blog! It was essential to his long term plans for the Libertarian
Party. I was the most high profile blogging member they had.  I
explained the problems the blog was creating in my personal life – to
say nothing of the cost of providing the blog.
‘No Problem!’ wasn’t Andrew on the verge
of becoming a millionaire – he would bear all the costs, if I would just
put the blog back up and transfer the domain name to him. I sent him
the domain registration documents, he sent them back un-witnessed.
‘Not a problem’ he said, he would have
the money in a few days – Tuesday? – and was so embarrassed at keeping
me waiting like that, he would fly down to Bergerac, deliver the money
in person, along with flowers, and a slap up dinner for all concerned.
It was a refrain we grew used to. But could I just put the blog up in
the meantime? My high profile was not only essential to the future of
the Libertarian Party, but was also having the effect of keeping Andrew P
Withers name on the front page of Google, rather than the despicable
lies of Mandelson and co.
I sent a stiffly worded e-mail to all the
people that were apparently going to be involved in this re-incarnation
of Anna Raccoon, reminding them that I wouldn’t be writing anything,
but would attend to the technical side. Nor would I be meeting any of
the costs of putting the site back together.
‘Not a problem’, said Andrew. ‘and in the
meantime, could you sign my nomination forms for the Libertarian Party,
election in a couple of weeks; I have a trusted group of people who
will help me revitalise the Party and in gratitude to you for all you
have done, I would like you to be the chief nominee’. I did. I wonder
now, how many other people did?
I put the site back up. I paid the
several hundred pounds to have the archives reconstituted. This was no
time to be giving Andrew a hard time for the money, wasn’t the court
case in a few days? And the election? And CEOs and MDs were still
trailing between international airports, conference calls were taking
entire days, contractual matters more days, as soon as the court case
was over he could start work again, and funds would be released… I’m not
an unreasonable woman.
Andrew was now ‘Leader designate’ of the
party, unable to take up the full position so long as the court case was
outstanding. He was still Treasurer too, apparently unable to hand over
the books until he had time to ‘put them in order’. That rang bells,
for some time ago, Andrew had rung me one day asking if I happened to
remember the name of the Libertarian member who had put up the money
when the funds to release Nick Hogan were trapped in ‘money laundering
regulations’.
As it happens, I had only ever known his Christian name. ‘Xxxxx Somebody’ I said.
He e-mailed me back a list of members
with that Christian name; he urgently needed to raise funds for the
party to meet some outstanding bills from the last election. Did any of
them ring a bell? To my ever lasting shame, I said that one of them
might do. He e-mailed me later that day to say that ‘Xxxxx somebody’ had
kindly made a three month loan to the party and he was grateful for my
help. Alarm bells were ringing in my dense skull, but Christmas was upon
us. No possibility of all this high level finance being sorted out over
Christmas, MDs and CEOs would be off to exotic parts.
Andrew rang me in great excitement from
Newport, the final details of his deal with exotic international
companies had been signed; he was to receive an interim payment of
£1,000 a week from 1st January. He would be on a plane down
here just as soon as he had cashed the cheque. Meanwhile, he had
assembled a high level team of computer experts who were at that very
moment, working on a new web site for the party, I would be astounded!
He was sorry he hadn’t been able to meet the broadband bill on the 1st January.
Finally! The ‘I’m in Funds!!!’ e-mail
arrived. Shortly followed by the ‘would Saturday the xth be OK with you’
e-mail. It seemed churlish to remind him that the domain name renewal
invoice had been automatically paid from my account; I could sort that
out when he arrived couldn’t I?
Then there was the ‘is it OK if I bring
my partner with me, she has been so depressed with all this trouble, she
deserves a break’ e-mail.  Can you be churlish after eight months of
holding your tongue and being patient? I suppose so, but frankly I was
more interested in seeing the colour of his money.
Then the ‘my partner has booked the
flights, but the only ones she can get are for a week’ e-mail……deep
sighs all round this household. We really didn’t relish the prospect of
spending a week doing the tourist trail with a pair of non-driving
visitors who were scarcely our favourite people.
Then there was ‘are there cash machines
that take credit cards in France, I’ve only got 100 euros in the house’
the day before he arrived. I assured him there was. Ones that would let
him withdraw 900 Euros a day.
They arrived! Cheerful, friendly, they’d bought some tea-bags
for us, gratefully received; some second hand videos and books, all gratefully received, and…….?
And over dinner that night, with his
girlfriend safely out of earshot, Andrew P Withers leaned across the
table and said to me….’you really must give me your banking details so I
can start paying back that money you lent me’…….collapse of stout
party. I didn’t trust myself to speak; excused myself and went upstairs
to Mr G, already abed, and said ‘you’re not going to believe what that
little runt has just said’….
Lips were pursed the next day. There is a
certain grim satisfaction in watching this sort of scenario play out in
your home. We cancelled the restaurant reservations, cancelled the
planed trip to Bordeaux, and cancelled all but one trip to sightsee. We
weren’t about to expend precious petrol on this pair; to say we ate
cheaply that week would be an understatement, except for the one day
when Mr G very pointedly took them food shopping, and girlfriend bought
four duck breasts, and a string of garlic.
Andrew’s girlfriend was a lovely girl, a
very caring person, but even she, so she told me, had issued Andrew with
an ultimatum that he must get a job by last September or leave her
home. She had been supporting him, and his two grown up sons, for the
past six years, and ‘it had to stop’. He had to give up this fantasy
that he could only be a managing director; but surely, I said, Andrew
must earn something (thinking of the £1,000 a week contract he’d told me
of), he’s forever zipping up and down the country, one day in Plymouth,
one day in London – it seems that she ‘has a good job and a petrol
expense account’. ‘but, surely they notice that it’s Andrew’s car’.
‘Andrew’s car’? she said blankly. ‘Andrew hasn’t got a car, he uses my
BMW’. ‘But he’s got a Landrover’…’Oh he had to sell that ages ago, when I
gave him the ultimatum’.
She was monumentally embarrassed when she
realised the true situation. I felt very, deeply, sorry for her. Turns
out that Andrew had been too busy with flying CEOs and MDs to actually
pick up and pay for their air tickets; she’d had to do that, credit card
of course. She bought a bottle of wine for us too, embarrassed by
Andrew’s monumental intake of Mr Gs red wine stocks. Mind you, Andrew
was putting away three times that amount every night, but it was the
thought that counts.
Andrew’s naps after dinner proved useful
too. The girlfriend had had her fair share of wine, and we got chapter
and verse out of her. Depressing chapter and verse.
Mr G very nearly flattened him one night,
as Andrew began his ritualistic descent into wine fuelled bravado;
every time his girlfriend started to speak, he would silence her, and
launch into yet another fantastic story of how he was a millionaire by
the time he was 25, how he would be posting us our money – yeah! and
interest too – precisely, next Tuesday, when he was back home, he posted
money all the time, his children were so expensive, you couldn’t keep
up with teenagers demands for money……Mr G, fuelled by my retelling of
the ‘other’ version from the girlfriend, was fit to bust. I shouldn’t
have stopped him, Mr G would have given him a lesson he wouldn’t have
forgotten.
We decided we’d give him until ‘next
Tuesday’ when he was back home in England to put the money back in our
account. Somehow we got through the week without giving him a flying
sightseeing tour from the top of the church tower…..losing our temper
would have made repayment all the more unlikely.
Next Tuesday arrived with the monotonous
regularity of all the other Tuesdays……he announced that he ‘had the
money in Euros’; it was ‘sitting on his desk’, but there was a
problem…naturally! It seems that he couldn’t insure the cash. He
couldn’t possibly take the risk that it wouldn’t get to us….Mr G gritted
his teeth and gave him the IBAN and the BIC code for our bank account
details in Jersey. A straightforward bank transfer would do the trick.
Well, you won’t believe this, but
Andrew’s bank is the one and only bank in the universe that won’t accept
Euros, even though they’ve just issued them to you… apparently he had
to post them up to Leicester (Post? I thought you couldn’t post cash any
longer?) and get them accredited to his bank account before he did
that. They should reach Leicester by….next Tuesday.
Mr G kept his cool, I blew a fuse.
The next e-mail claimed that his bank was
refusing to transmit the money unless they were informed of the exact
address and bank account number of the recipient. At four minutes to
eleven he e-mailed me that request, explaining that his bank was closed
after 11… I decided to use those four minutes to discover what this bank
was playing at. They advised me that they were open until 7 at night,
they didn’t require that information, and further advised me that I
shouldn’t give that information to anyone.
Events moved fast after that. I sent
Andrew an unspeakably angry e-mail. I copied his girlfriend in. He
replied straight away saying he ‘had no idea where I had got the idea
from that he was earning £1,000 a week’….either he hadn’t told her that
or it never was true! Needless to say, I fired straight back reminding
him exactly where I had got the idea from.
The following week, 1110 Euros turned up in my account.
The morning after, a strange little post
appeared on Andrew’s site saying he had written to the French tax
authorities, because ‘the French Tax authorities have very sharp teeth
and are not particularly friendly to ex pats from England who try to
work on the black or who are a bit vague about their off shore bank
accounts and working arrangements’.
I didn’t take very kindly to that
implication; my tax affairs are whiter than white, and the French tax
authorities are fully aware of my off-shore arrangements which are
dutifully declared for tax each year. Double tax as it happens, since
there is no dual taxation agreement with Jersey.
You pathetic little shit, I thought. It was nothing to what I thought later.
In short order, Andrew decamped from my
web site; and reappeared on Old Holborn’s site; I found that my newly
acquired password to the lpuk web site had been changed; my posts were
removed from the blogroll. I now know that at the same time, he told
party officials of the ‘unhinged nature of Anna who has overreached
herself in the property Market’ and further ‘he was now concerned that
Henry, while not a typical individual, was stitched up by Anna in
regards to the events surrounding his expulsion’ and that party
officials were advised not to communicate with me owing to my ‘erratic
but tenacious phone manners’. He had ‘borrowed’ money from me, and it
was all a misunderstanding owing to ‘late payment by a client’.
All this a full two months before I gave
up on him honouring his word. It seems that for having the temerity to
expect to be repaid, albeit eight patient months later, I was going the
same way as the French barrister. Classic totalitarian tactics for
dealing with a problem – smear the messenger. The stench of Nu-Labour
hangs over it.
Since when I have had an interesting
phone conversation. It seems I am not the only Libertarian Party member
who has been persuaded to put cash Andrew’s way, one way or another, and
has found ‘Tuesdays’ surprisingly bereft of repayment; nor am I the
only Libertarian, member or not, that he is indebted to;
nor am I the only legal beaver who has spent hours pouring over text books on his behalf.
The “Andrew P Withers Benevolent Society” we call ourselves. In fact if all Andrew’s creditors were laid end to end, you’d be approaching half a million quid. Pretty impressive.
There’s no one to complain to, for all
e-mails to the party go through the lpuk web site, controlled by Andrew.
All post goes to Andrew’s personal address, including the bottle of
whisky that some kind person sent to Chris Mounsey when he was still
leader, and that Andrew’s girlfriend was kind enough to tell me Andrew
drank himself. The Party has a new office, set up by Andrew, in his home
village – conveniently in the centre of the High Street. The Party
official functions were held by Andrew – still Treasurer until he ‘gets
the books in order’, and ‘Leader designate’ until he sorts out his court
case.
The next development was the appearance of the ‘Andrew P Withers’ personal domain, and accompanying blog.
Duly littered with Libertarian badges as you would expect of the leader
of the Libertarian Party, it carried duplicate wordy treatises on
Libertarian values. It seems Andrew could find the money to pay for a
domain name, even if he couldn’t pay for mine.
Some days later, the site underwent a
transformation. Gone was any mention of Libertarianism, badges gone,
previous posts all deleted. In their place was a picture of the new
improved Andrew P Withers. He’d never given me pictures for his avatar
on AR, telling me that he was waiting to get some professional pictures
done when he’d lost some weight. He’d obviously found the money. This
Andrew P Withers was professionally lit, in formal suit, and looking
both expensive and expansive. It accompanied a fulsome biography telling
of his exciting international life as an experienced businessman and
general all round trustworthy chappie. To my utter amazement, it went on
to tell of how he was standing as a candidate in his forthcoming local
elections – but not as a Libertarian candidate, as you might imagine, as
an Independent! Wasn’t he a local business man with premises in
Clevedon, perfectly equipped to sort out the financial improprieties of
Clevedon Council? A handy walk in office in the High Street for those
essential consultations with your local representative…..
The lpuk blog announced that it was experiencing some difficulties with the ex-Mandelson’s Office apparently using ‘ripping software’ to monitor them and it’s new incarnation would be delayed by some weeks.
Today, the list of candidates in the
forthcoming election has been published in the local paper, no Andrew P
Withers. Changed his mind; about a number of things. The proud new
‘Andrew P Withers dot com’ website is invitation only. Closed to the
public. Strangely shy. So is his ‘Looking for a Voice’ Blogspot. Not
before his announcement of his standing as an independent candidate was
picked up by a local reporter.
I have contacted the party before
publishing this, of course. My first contact, the membership and
subscription office forwarded my enquiry directly to Andrew – and then
curled up in a corner and refused to communicate. I then enlisted the
help of an ex-member who contacted Tim Carpenter. We received a reply
over a week ago, saying they were ‘investigating’, and have failed to
reply since then. Examination of the party accounts show that there are
at least two different ‘lpuk’ accounts under the control of Andrew P
Withers. One into which you pay your subscriptions, and a completely
different one into which the Party member was directed to pay his ‘three
month loan’ – now six months old. Unfortunately, the party structure
has failed to modernise its accounting package into the promised
‘accounting units for regions’, a move which would have ensured that the
£1,500 loan showed
up in the formal declaration of loans. The legal situation is that
loans under £7,500 do not have to be declared to the electoral
commission, perhaps this is why it has come as a surprise to all but the
parties involved.
Surprisingly, a few days after my
investigations began, the member found another £450 had turned up in his
bank account – sent by ‘fastest transfer’, by Andrew P Withers, no
longer the Treasurer, but apparently able to make transfers. He waits
with interest to see when, and if, he receives the balance.
The French barrister, still owed many thousands by Andrew, was surprised to find that Andrew ‘was repudiating the voluntary undertaking
he had signed agreeing that he was an unfit person to hold office’ –
surprised because in France, if you sign an undertaking to a court, it
is simple ‘contempt of court’ to then repudiate it without the court’s
agreement. Do the English not have such respect for their courts?
The other English barrister has simply
put his experience down to ‘time wasted’ – he has met many such people
given the line of business he is in, defending the ‘duckers and divers’
of this world.
We have given up; I am not spending the
rest of my life wandering around muttering to myself, ‘the little runt
never did repay us’. Whilst I can think of far more deserving homes for
that money; what I really resent is the disillusionment, the lack of
hope for the future, the lack of belief that there might be a corner of
politics that is not peopled by unprincipled individuals willing to lie
and cheat to line their own pockets and avoid an honest day’s work. He
has used me, used my blog, to ensnare others into giving him credit, and
then sought to blacken my name when he thought my patience might be
exhausted.
The Libertarian Party may be content with such a person being their public face, but I am not.
Nor am I going to write my blog with one
hand tied behind my back wondering what is being said behind the scenes,
and what retribution is going to be exacted next for daring to expect
him to honour his debts.
Over the past few days, they have been
sending out frantic e-mails trying to get membership subscriptions in –
for some reason I do not seem to be on this mailing list. Just as well,
for I would not entrust another penny to them.
This blog is formally no longer affiliated with the Libertarian Party.
I still hold fast to my Libertarian beliefs though.
Just ‘don’t tread on me’.

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