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| A pictorial representation of the view of a witness box occupant in a public courtroom, as enjoyed by the defendant from the dock of High Wycombe Magistarates' Court 11/7/13 in Regina vs Colin Deryck Jarvis. (Doesn't look very happy, do he!) |
I have one of many little confessions to make to, potentially, the 7 billion people in this world, who may happen-chance across my social media mass communication websites who were not present in Court No.1 of High Wycombe Magistrates' Court.
The fifteen odd people who were present know already.
So: When the Crown finally succeeded in getting one of their star witnesses into the witness box I was ecstatic, rapturous and looked forward to Trial proceedings commencing.
Once called, from the moment the Crown's one remaining witness entered the court room my eyes did not leave him. I looked directly at him and he looked directly at me as he waddled to the witness box, (precariously swaying his considerable bulk from side to side) imagining himself to be portraying a real mean, cool, relaxed, laid back black dude. (Who, unfortunately - and hilariously - was decked out in an very ill fitting and cheap looking suit, shirt and tie.)
I immediately locked my eyes onto his eyes and did not remove my gaze for even a second, save for one brief moment when the Crown's star witness's evidence descended into complete surreal retarded fantasy which included - bizarrely - ...Colin Jarvis ate macaroni cheese off the [an Uncle Tom black person's] floor when eating dinner in that [parasitic individual's] person's home in April 2011 etc etc... on hearing such verbal diarrhoea... (poor sad, desperate individual must have racked his tiny stupid brain for days on end to come up with such crass stupidity as evidence as he looked forward to his big day in court.) ...crass stupidity verbal "evidence" I genuinely felt pity for the pitiful black person who presented such "evidence" in a court of law. "Evidence" which, by the way, demonstrated the Crown's witness's total disrespect and contempt for Their Worships hearing the case, contempt for the court, contempt for the law, contempt for the CPS and contempt for the legal proceedings he was party too by order of that very CPS.
Anyway on hearing such stupid incoherent and childish drivel from the Crown's (now, only) witness which was, supposedly, his "evidence" of harassment amounting to a course of conduct, I was compelled to remove my gaze from the CPS's star witness, lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. I was cracking up. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant entertainment. The Clerk of Justices told me to stop laughing and my Solicitor looked daggers at me. I said that I couldn't help it and that I apologise to the court and Their Worships.
The legal experts, on the other hand, to whom this tripe was being presented were looking at the CPS's witness in bemused incomprehension and understanding that the CPS's BT employee black person witness had lost the plot. Had lost his way and was out of his depth and floundering like semi comatose, beached whale blubber.
N.B. Please do not ask me to explain the workings of the mind - or more accurately, what passes for the mind - of some queer and extremely peculiar black persons.
Confession:
As I looked intently and very closely at the Crown's witness as he disgorged his badly, sadly and poorly rehearsed "evidence" in response to being questioned by Solicitors and Magistrates I rested my chin on the heel of my left palm with my first two fingers adjacent to my left ear, my two smaller fingers covering my lips and my right hand supporting my left elbow.
When during the course of the Crown's star witness squeaking and lisping out his "evidence" in response to being questioned, whenever the opportunity presented itself, i.e. when the CPS's witness looked directly at me, which was often but not continually, I would use my left hand to impersonate Pinocchio's elongating nose then pointed at the CPS's witness and smiled. The Crown's star witness complained to the court about it, eventually. ....Yeah go on do vat with ya hand...blah blah blah...squeak squeak squeak.
I just kept smiling, I was enjoying myself tremendously. Courtesy of the CPS... Have to confess, I was also (as and when necessary which was frequently) giving the Crown's witness regular thumbs-up encouragement at appropriate times, when the witness appeared to be confused, which was often, trapped in the tangled web of his own stupid deceit within his so obviously perjurious "evidence".
I can't remember, :-) , but I may well have been smiling at the witness as I gave the CPS's witness the old...
A ...Crown Prosecution Service who, I would like to remind the reader, is using your money to persecute, serially charge and serially prosecute an innocent and blameless black man on unconscionable, stupid, risible evidence... following ATVP's serially arresting me and being paid to do so with your council tax. ...and a *patriotic innocent and blameless black man at that I'll have you know. My father - British Guyana c. 1957 - was a Flight Sergeant of twenty two years service in the RAF for God sake and I and three of my older brothers were cadets in John Colet School ATC c. 1963/65 & 1971/73. How much more bloody *patriotic do ya want me to be? :-)
p.s. c. April 1971. Yes, it was me who nicked the 617 Dambusters Squadron plaque that was glued to the presentation showcase located in the main mess hall at RAF Scampton Lincs. One of the lads had nicked the thing too soon, (on the bloody Tuesday for God sake) brought it back to the ATC camp barracks, and was told to ...put the fucking thing back, you idiot...(sic) (he also got chucked in a bath tub filled with freezing cold water - but that and other...(accepted, as having no choice in the matter)...pleasantries happened to most of us none-NCOs. e.g. a group of us were tricked into drinking diluted urine by a group of 'hard cases' from a London squadron, as in: either drink or risk getting the crap beaten out us for appearing either frightened of alcohol and/or 'unsocialbe'). I pinched the plaque on the Thursday after lunch and I made certain nobody saw me do it. I stuck it down the front of my tunic. It was the turn of some 20 or so of us to be given turns flying shotgun in an RAF Chipmunk that afternoon - which involved donning a parachute - but I didn't panic, just kept the thing well down my tunic. On the Friday p.m before boarding coaches for home all ATC squadrons - approx 100 odd schoolboys - on the camp barracks were ordered to fall in adjacent to our respective coaches because the Officers (i.e. the numerous adults in charge of the respective squadrons) were going to search every cadet's kit to find the plaque. I was therefore, obviously, anxious and would have been shitting meself, but we had all been made aware that there was to be a search for the plaque and so I had executed the best plan I could come up with. I wrapped the plaque up in a lot of clobber and buried it at the bottom of me kit bag (the long cylindrical gray kit bags) and planned to take "a long time" emptying out my kit when told to do so. It worked. I got halfway down as I took my merry old time pulling out my kit and putting it on the floor. As I was emptying my kit bag (and sweating) I heard..."Okay, that'll do Jarvis". And off he sauntered to the "innocent" schoolboy next in line. n.b. I did not speak to any of the lads on the return journey home, not even my brother, because I knew I would have showed off and told somebody that I've got the plaque. I was giggling to meself all the way home though. When I got the plaque safely indoors I told my brother what I'd done and showed him the plaque. He called me a fool and said I was lucky to have gotten away with it. I then showed our mother and my other siblings my "very coveted" and ill gotten trophy and told how it had come into my possession. To a person they were all very underwhelmed and in front of my siblings my mother tore me off a strip for stealing. Following which, at school and at John Colet ATC Squadron nights, I bragged about my camp spoils and was not believed, my brother refused to back me up. ...Bring it in Jarvis and show us. ...No thank you, come up to the house...! A couple of lads did and they were impressed when I produced the goods. "...Bring it in tonight Colin, we'll put it up, show it to the NCOs". ..." What and be killed? No thanks. When I was grassed up to the Squadron NCOs on a Squadron night I was told "...do NOT bring it here Jarvis & ...do NOT steal".
*I concede, my stealing the Dambusters plaque from RAF Scampton's main mess hall was not very *patriotic ! :-(
Do wish I'd kept the thing though, would have put it on ebay :-)
[That same year as my grand theft of Crown property, we (John Colet ATC Squadron) won the area Drill compo at RAF Halton against approx 10 other squadrons.]
Anyway to continue ...using your money to serially persecute and serially prosecute an innocent and blameless black man who is simply making use of social media mass communication websites to articulate and express honest comment. Unambiguous, uncompromising, accurate, factual honest comment.
p.s. c. April 1971. Yes, it was me who nicked the 617 Dambusters Squadron plaque that was glued to the presentation showcase located in the main mess hall at RAF Scampton Lincs. One of the lads had nicked the thing too soon, (on the bloody Tuesday for God sake) brought it back to the ATC camp barracks, and was told to ...put the fucking thing back, you idiot...(sic) (he also got chucked in a bath tub filled with freezing cold water - but that and other...(accepted, as having no choice in the matter)...pleasantries happened to most of us none-NCOs. e.g. a group of us were tricked into drinking diluted urine by a group of 'hard cases' from a London squadron, as in: either drink or risk getting the crap beaten out us for appearing either frightened of alcohol and/or 'unsocialbe'). I pinched the plaque on the Thursday after lunch and I made certain nobody saw me do it. I stuck it down the front of my tunic. It was the turn of some 20 or so of us to be given turns flying shotgun in an RAF Chipmunk that afternoon - which involved donning a parachute - but I didn't panic, just kept the thing well down my tunic. On the Friday p.m before boarding coaches for home all ATC squadrons - approx 100 odd schoolboys - on the camp barracks were ordered to fall in adjacent to our respective coaches because the Officers (i.e. the numerous adults in charge of the respective squadrons) were going to search every cadet's kit to find the plaque. I was therefore, obviously, anxious and would have been shitting meself, but we had all been made aware that there was to be a search for the plaque and so I had executed the best plan I could come up with. I wrapped the plaque up in a lot of clobber and buried it at the bottom of me kit bag (the long cylindrical gray kit bags) and planned to take "a long time" emptying out my kit when told to do so. It worked. I got halfway down as I took my merry old time pulling out my kit and putting it on the floor. As I was emptying my kit bag (and sweating) I heard..."Okay, that'll do Jarvis". And off he sauntered to the "innocent" schoolboy next in line. n.b. I did not speak to any of the lads on the return journey home, not even my brother, because I knew I would have showed off and told somebody that I've got the plaque. I was giggling to meself all the way home though. When I got the plaque safely indoors I told my brother what I'd done and showed him the plaque. He called me a fool and said I was lucky to have gotten away with it. I then showed our mother and my other siblings my "very coveted" and ill gotten trophy and told how it had come into my possession. To a person they were all very underwhelmed and in front of my siblings my mother tore me off a strip for stealing. Following which, at school and at John Colet ATC Squadron nights, I bragged about my camp spoils and was not believed, my brother refused to back me up. ...Bring it in Jarvis and show us. ...No thank you, come up to the house...! A couple of lads did and they were impressed when I produced the goods. "...Bring it in tonight Colin, we'll put it up, show it to the NCOs". ..." What and be killed? No thanks. When I was grassed up to the Squadron NCOs on a Squadron night I was told "...do NOT bring it here Jarvis & ...do NOT steal".
*I concede, my stealing the Dambusters plaque from RAF Scampton's main mess hall was not very *patriotic ! :-(
Do wish I'd kept the thing though, would have put it on ebay :-)
[That same year as my grand theft of Crown property, we (John Colet ATC Squadron) won the area Drill compo at RAF Halton against approx 10 other squadrons.]
Anyway to continue ...using your money to serially persecute and serially prosecute an innocent and blameless black man who is simply making use of social media mass communication websites to articulate and express honest comment. Unambiguous, uncompromising, accurate, factual honest comment.
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| ...innit John - Uncle Tom Prick-BNP sphincter licking batty bwoy - Coffey ! |
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| (i)...macaroni cheese (sic)...anybody? (ii)...Colin I can't wait for her to come over for a holiday in August, I going to ask he to stay and live with me...(sic)...anybody? |
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