When I was a child, a dog was always out of the question. My father wanted to buy an illegal exotic pet whilst my mother would say she was allergic to dogs and cats. We settled on a jar full of worms that I collected from the garden and eventually a goldfish with suicidal tendencies. After the death of my worms at the hands of my sisters, I was left alone with Bob the goldfish. I would chat to him for hours and in return he would commit suicide by jumping down the back of the freezer. Bob II would replace him and he lasted a relatively long time before his accidental death. It was my birthday and a shiny 50 pence coin would fall from my hand and into the tank, striking Bob II and dealing the goldfish a fatal blow.
I walked back from the Radisson Blu Cardiff still in shock from being fired. They had just destroyed my potential career with no care for the repercussions. Why should they care? Who am I to them? I was running everything through my mind. The past month was repeating on my synapses like mental indigestion. How was I going to pay the rent? What was my girlfriend going to say? I finally knew what it felt like to have been fired. I needed to know what had happened. Why was I the one to get the boot? What did I do? I thought about everybody I had interacted with but me knew who had wanted me out. The opening general manager for the SAS Radisson BLU Hotel Cardiff had been a German lady who had been brought in from the Radisson BLU’s Liverpool hotel. She wasn’t alone, she came with other German employees who had also been with her in Liverpool. Marlen was one of those allies, along with two other younger German receptionist who were obviously hungry for career opportunity. The GM had always acted strange around me.
The global economic crisis was in full swing. It was early 2009 in the beautiful Welsh capital city of Cardiff and I was happy to be working in Head Entertainment, previously the iconic Virgin Megastore. Virgin Megastores had gone into administration a year previously but some entrepreneurs had saved it by creating Zavvi. On Christmas 2008, Zavvi had also fallen into administration, again to be saved and turned into Head Entertainment. My job was still fairly secure in the short term but everyone was looking for new employment. It was clear that my fairly short spell in the retail sector was slowly grinding to a halt, and that it was time to return to the industry I knew so well.
In the archives of the British Library are five tapes which should be a cause of concern to us all. Much of the interview with Rev. Nicolas Stacey relives his action-packed adventures at war, his unlikely turn as an Olympic athlete, and his time in the Church of England. Some of the content of the tapes have caused victims of Kendall House sexual abuse to call for an immediate inquiry.
Oh Barbara Hewson. Where does one begin with thee? Many people see you as an enigma, probably paid by old men to do their dirty work of lobbying for the reduction of the age of consent. But I’m not sure that you are so easy to define. A little birdy asked me to investigate Barbara Hewson in the way that I investigated Laura Kuenssberg, John Kersey, and Theresa May’s Father, Hubert Brasier. I love to delve deep into the family history of these complicated characters. I love to study the predatory tentacles of the establishment Kraken that haunts the deep dark ocean of our modern British civilisation. I am basically studying the deoxyribonucleic acid as it progresses through time and space, reproducing to continue its journey. How the genetics react at different eras of social uprising, revolution, cultural evolution, and through personal trauma. DNA can tell us a lot about what makes a human tick, and by studying our own DNA’s history, maybe we can discover why we believe what we do?