Memories of a Childhood
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: the thin white duke
Date: Sun, 02 Jan 2005 17:52:01 +0800
just like to say what a fantastic job you have done on david bowie. i knew david as a boy in bromley, always a strange lad. i wasn't invited to his 50th birthday. no real, obvious, reason for this, though i have my suspicions. i would be interested to know who else wasn't invited. i can think of 4 names, one gary glitter (who i know shagged david in '61-'62). i have had reason to study the occult recently, and have uncovered the fact that you can sometimes see who is part of a group, somebody who is being used. the main clue is that they all have a mentor, a teacher, who took over from the family. david's probably was his first manager (forget name) the one who made him drop 'the lower third' group, the man david lived with, always naked at home, it is said. i suspect this manager was a scout for an occult group, one of the people out looking for 'chosen ones'. sometimes, it seems, top families indulge in creating illegitimate children from chosen women, and later seeing to it that the children and grandchildren etc., are 'sponsered' in their education etc., (reagen, clinton, to name 2 usa presidents who are known to have been sponsered in their rise to fame, and another, who's name you might recognise...adolf hitler. research has uncovered that he could well be the illegitimate grandson to the rothschild/rockafeller dynasty, just like the names mentioned previously. the rothschilds, now an 'english' family, are in fact the bauer family, from germany, a family known to be deeply into the black occult, if not the grandmasters (this means they are pure evil). i think it is possible, that, if we could check bowies family tree (don't think we can) probably on his mothers side, the burns family, we might find a suitable connection somewhere, to one of the top families in the occult. i knew david's 2 sisters and his brother, too, knew terry quiet well, last time we met was probably in mid-sixties, he was married, i was invited home for tea and a chat...about david. terry didn't like this manager guy at all, but i can't really remember what was said after so many years. a very, very, nice man, terry always had mental problems, it was never said, he covered it up well, but i think he was psychic, thus he heard voices in his head sometimes. i knew other people like that, was involved with a group up in london, comedian tommy cooper was a member, as was my own 'mentor' dr. steven ward (the profumo guy?) i was used in several occult rituals, used to help them 'talk to god', or as i've now deciphered, 'talk to the holy grail'. they were looking for it you see. my group were descendants of king arthur and camelot. i was lucky, it seems, these people were 'nice' people, who revered life, i've been in contact with others in britain who seem to have been used by 'the other side', the 'dark side', and they had horrific memories of abuse. it is thought to continue today. one trait psychic people have is that they tend to sleep during the day and work at night (or try to). nighttime is very quiet, they hear the voices easier and, when asleep, they have nightmares, during the day the natural noise of life helps cover these voices. like cooper, some cover it with drink, another clue, or, when they became available in the 60's, with drugs. i knew one guy who didn't drink, so used sex to dampen the voices, sid james, the comedian. my mentor, steven ward, didn't drink either, was impotant, so couldn't used sex either (why he liked to watch, he screwed in his mind instead! i gladly helped him with this, ok? he knew lots of nice girls...) so found a 'quiet' area of london (around harley street, south of regents park) and just 'cat-napped' at night. music seems to be prevailant amongst the psychics i knew, music helps soothe the troubled mind (but not rap etc., which is based on the cadances and frequencies used in brainwashing, a disturbing development). bowie found a mentor, got into music, did drugs and sex, it begins to form a pattern? without the help of a mentor his brother terry couldn't cope, and eventually killed himself. all this is one reason, maybe the real reason, why david didn't invite me to his 50th birthday. if he was already being initiated into the occult at this time (possible) he probably knew i was involved in the occult, he definately knew who i knew, what i was doing, what happened back in the autumn of '62 (the shit hit the fan in a very big way. in case you are interested, via steven ward i stepped on mountbatten's and philip's toes something awful, ok? and it now seems those 2 were grandmasters of the bauer occult. this is the real reason behind the profumo affair) and suspects that i might know something about him. will we ever know? keep up the good work, peter. wiedersein!
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: RE: aryan dukes
Date: Tue, 04 Jan 2005 05:21:31 +0800
just a quick email, just got home, must go to bed. i work for a living? david never personally said outright that he had sex with gary (paul gadd) but he didn't try to stop the inferences (big word for a german. how do i explain that, the not so subtle grins and remarks the other guys made). he didn't mind people thinking that he had, ok? he seemed to like you thinking it. that and paul's body language said it all. there were no denials that he had stayed the night at paul's flat, and, frankly, paul's reputation was such that if you stayed the night you had sex with him. it was the same with my friend. you must understand, i was visiting a friend who was a notorious gay, who never hid it (in those days you did) all the other guys there were gay, 'everybody knew'. they can tell. the guys were nervous, asking me how old david was, they knew we had been friends for years, they became even more nervous when i said david was 4 months younger than me. i was barely 15 and a half at the time, and to have sex legally you had to be 16. 'gary's sailing a mite to close to the wind...' was the quiet reply, sailor-talk for there being no margins of safety and you were likely to hit the rocks. by the way, i'm not gay, i have never been abused, all the guys showed me great respect, even paul. i'd known my friend for 10 years, he never allowed me in his bedroom, he never left the livingroom if i was in the toilet or something, this because the police sometimes watched from a building opposite, to check on him. if both of us dissappeared at the same time they would have raided the place, they told us this. it was only because we had been friends for so long that they allowed us to meet. i recall david was married to angie twice, the last time at the swan and mitre pub. ever wonder why? this was because he once promised his gay mates that if he ever married he would marry there, so they could be there and have a great party afterwards!
david guarenteed had sex with vic furlong, the music shop owner he worked for after leaving school, i know this because vic told me! through my friend i knew vic and his lover, count andrea (andy) volpe, ex-husband to actress diane cilento (why they divorced, andy wanted to live with vic and being an honest and brave man asked for a divorce. diane tried to kill herself, she didn't know and loved andy very much). i knew her well, knew her father and sister too (ruth cilento was lesbian!) david caused problems with vic, forcing vic to sack him (i know why, but i'll not say). vic was frightened that he might go to jail (for having sex with david) so didn't report david to the police. this was when david began working in tin pan alley, a schoolteacher we both knew helped him, owen frampton (peter's dad) he having contacts up there. met frampton the last time at the mermaid theatre i was working at in '61-62 (part time, after school, i was going to be a scriptwriter. frampton was well-known in the theatre and pleased to see me). took david and his dad, johnny, along once. johnny was a great guy, i liked him a lot.
why i was not invited to his 50th: probably has to do with what i've just hinted at. it was about this that me and his brother, terry, spoke, terry was going to speak to david about it, david knows that i know, cannot look me in the eye. no reason for this from my side, everyone makes mistakes.
never met this manager, pitt. last saw the guys in the lower third in about '65-66 (not sure, i was last in england in '68) in knew phil lancaster since i was 5, he taught me my first english (i'm half norwegian). they had worked hard for years to become famous, it was beginning to pay off after the german trip with the kalin twins, they had some gigs offered, one on tv, a recording contract ready to sign...and then david introduced his new manager. this manager told the guys they were history, period, he was taking over. this angered graham rivens, it was his group! david turned his back on them, refusing to say anything, refusing to look at them. they had been told to get another member of the group, 3 was too little, they wanted georgie underwood (our local greengrocer's son) but he was studying at art school, took david as there was nobody else (and nobody else wanted david, he couldn't sing properly!) built him up...and he abandoned them just when they needed him. they lost the gigs and the recording contract. i knew phil lancaster well, a very solid guy, never lost his temper, calm, reliable, a very nice guy, all liked him. he was a mad as hell. 'i wouldn't have minded as much if david had told us himself, and apologised, leaving after the gigs and such, leaving us a career in music. to just turn his back on us, as though we weren't there, and after all we had done for him, without us he would be nothing...' all three guys had to quit music. i have researched on the net that one has a photographers shop, one runs an electrical store, phil sells garden gnomes in a garden supply shop. love to get in contact with them, can you help, peter? tell them 'little sparra' wants to 'chew the cud'.
Must get to bed. bye!
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: RE: McAryan dukes
Date: Wed, 05 Jan 2005 02:15:32 +0800
when i find the time i'll try and write a detailed report on my years with david. in case you have any books about him: look to see if there are any photos of his cub group, i think we were called the 18th bromley. i don't have mine anymore but all cubs got a photo from the camp in bognor, in, was it '58? we were about 12 then. david would be in the middle, holding his trousers up (they were too big!) i recall i was on the right, holding a flag? i think so, it was our troop-flag.
nobody was interested in the occult back then, everybody had seen enough real horror in the war, thank you. david was different in that he was interested in american indians, he read all he could get on that subject and talked about it for hours. terry used to buy books in germany for him, refused to buy him a bowie-knife from the americans for safety reasons, but got him a baseball-glove. i recall that in '61 or '62 he managed to get another school interested in forming a team, and formed his own team to play them. some of our teachers arranged picnics and matches on occasional weekends, i was once up at his school in keston for a game. we had fun. better than cricket, all the boys hated blasted cricket, boring game.... when we played cowboys the weaker boys were forced to play the indians, but david gladly volenteered, he never played a cowboy in his life! he tried to get the other boys to play their parts accurately, they were just trying to avoid getting beaten-up! i have no recall of any talk about the occult until i was first involved in it. your article was the first time i saw that david might be involved in it. it's an interesting concept to think about. there might be something in it. i shall have to write a script about it, sounding-out ideas in theory. his father seemed normal, but his mother was said 'to be mad', and they did talk about 'the burns curse'. his mother seemed ok to me, but i didn't know her too well.
my family moved to sweden in jan '63, i was only 16 and legally obliged to follow them, having nowhere to live and no real job. no pay a the theatre for the first year, it took 5 years to begin earning any money. i needed to find a real job to support myself, and there wasn't any. so many boys left school at the same time that there was no work for the first time since the war. i tried vic furlong, but he had bill wyman working part-time for him at the time, and didn't need me. david got a job there only after bill was making money with the stones. bill doesn't recall me, by the way, though i knew him well, but i've heard that years of smoking grass has caught up with him and he's having mental problems. a lot of the girl-actresses/dancers who couldn't get a job in a shop had to strip for a living, and worse... i got all the sex i wanted for a one pound lunch. cheap! i had absolutely no contact with anybody back in england other than the maybe 2 times i was home for a weeks holiday (my brothers stayed in london, they are older than me and had jobs, but even they had a hard time the first years. workers in britain were poor in those days). i occasionally met guys i once knew, like the lower third guys, and caught up on the gossip.
i can't recall the actual last time i met david before moving abroad, just that time i met 'the lower third', years later, david arriving at the hamburger bar (wimpy bar) after work at tin pan alley. i can't recall why he was in bromley, his father was dead by this time and he was possibly already living with this manager? he wasn't happy seeing them, but he saw me and couldn't back out. he didn't realise that the guys had been taking about him and didn't mention leaving the group. they just sat and looked at him. after he left i went over to see vic, i couldn't go back to bromley without saying hallo, he'd be offended if he heard. i didn't want to go, the guys had told me the score, they knew what happened too. andy volpe just happened to be there too, checking something out, he was half-owner in the shop. andy took me for a coffee later, explaining that vic was 'a broken man', and he was afraid he might try to kill himself. he was no longer 'friendly vic', but 'cash up front or get out, vic'. but andy still loved him and would help him get over it. ' i don't mind him having an affair with david, we (gays) are a bit like that, and it usually doesn't mean anything. i knew there was going to be trouble when i first saw david in the shop. i saw he was gay, of course, but there was something else about him that made me wary...'
i'll try and get that 'potted history' done sometime, and write a script about what could be happenening here regarding his involvment in the occult (it helps you think and understand the computations. i do that sort of thing all the time!)
have a nice day, mr. peter koenig.
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: RE: McAryan McDukes
Date: Wed, 05 Jan 2005 22:31:06 +0800
the guy in the front row, on the left, looks like me! can't recall this photo. '57-'58, does that mean it's the end of the season, autumn '57, or have we just started the season? how can this be, surely i never went to school with david, he always went to other schools, something he complained about, he missed all his friends!!?? ok, a little scriptwriting is called for, some sherlock holmes might help. it does look like me, i certainly recognise most of the other boys (no names though) but then they were all local and we played a lot of football together in our own time. i know david was at my primary school, st. georges in tylney road, for a term or so when he first arrived in town, because there was no room for him in the school he was supposed to go to (theoretically a year younger, he was in another class) but he then moved over when a place appeared. but that was back in '56? but that aside, we are close in time, very close, so close that this has to be for real, this is the beginning of '57 and that is indeed me and david jones (left in middle row) he was still at st. georges, maybe to leave quiet soon, why he wasn't captain. he was a brilliant footballer and tactician, and should have been captain. this is a lucky photograph, peter, it was close to never happening! this is the first picture of david and me, together. maybe only a few weeks decided that this happened. i was about ten and a half in this picture, i was born october '46. david, january, '47 (the first week?) wow, wunderschon!!!!
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: the white duke
Date: Wed, 12 Jan 2005 23:56:58 +0800
here's a quick synopsis about my recall of david bowie. not much, but 43-50 years is a long time to remember back on. as far as david's early career is concerned, and the 'svengali' he was becoming involved with, you really need to talk to phil lancaster, graham rivens and david 'teacup' taylor, the guys in 'the lower third' group, who were there and met him. phil married a local girl and moved to (landkries) shropshire, the other two seem to have stayed in margate, where they always lived. that's all the info i have. i need to take a trip there and ask around for them. i'll try and find the time and start work on a 'script' regarding a possible involvement by david, in the occult. i recall terry burns saying something that might be interesting, that fits in 'the profile'.
Rough synopsis of ‘The Jones boy’
First met David Jones, aka Bowie, down the rec (the park) in about 1956? He turned up one evening asking if he might join in. “I’ve just moved here and heard you played football most evenings. Can I play too? I can play!” says he breathlessly, thinking we would turn him away, “I was the captain for my last school!”
Ok, get over there.
Was he disappointed. We just ran around slashing somewhere near the ball, he was into line-ups and tactics, just like a real pro-team! He didn’t stay round-eyed for long, was quiet let down. His dad Johnny tried to tell him it would be something like this, but he wasn’t listening. But eventually he got over it and began to enjoy himself. Our idea of a good game was this: we boys had a standing bet - sixpence - as to who first had the guts to pretend to slash at the ball, miss, and kick Arthur Scudder in the balls! Arthur was Dave’s neighbor and friend…ahem. At least, Arthur said it was that way, Dave had now’t to say on the subject. Arthur used to say ‘hallo’ by punching you in the chest and demanding any money you might have, as he wanted an ice cream. Yes, that type. If he’d been German he’d have been in the SS. It came as no suprise to hear that in adult life he owned a demolitian company. That says it all regarding Arthur Scudder. Think Dave did the honours, re: the kicking of bessants, by mistake, actually, but whoever it was he couldn’t ’alf run! Arthur groaned, clutched ‘em, swore loudly, and eyes watering something awfull he tried to run after the hapless offender. Unluckily for him, Jimmy ‘The Jackal’ Duggan was there that evening, and grabbed him. “Just you dare! You think they hurt now?” he snarled, “Leave orf, or they’ll hurt so much they’ll drop orf after I’ve finished with you!” Arthur ‘left orf’, Jim had a right ol’ rep even back then, he didn’t so much as run after the ball as leap like a leopard, and anyone in the way got flattened. Ask the Mau Mau about that, when he did his military service shortly after. You certainly kept away from his feet, having him kick you in the balls was the same as having the operation for free!
Met Terry Burns early on. Dave had never mentioned he had a brother, but there he was sitting in the front room in his suit, home on leave from the RAF in Germany. He always wore a suit, had nothing else and always was a natty dresser. Good-looking lad, charming, too, he had no trouble carrying a conversation with strangers. Though he sloughed it off in my presence he was in a mood, narked that Johnny had knocked down a wall and made his and Dave’s little bedrooms into one, with only the one bed. Terry realised that he wasn’t welcome back after his National Service was up. He wanted to stay in, like most of the working-class lads he had never had it so good as in the military, but suspected that his time was limited. He was sleeping over somewhere else, forget where, an auntie? He and Johnny weren’t speaking. Terry loved to join in the football, and, suit notwithstanding, just took off his shoes and played! The local dry-cleaners made a fortune out of him! As I’ve said, Terry was a nice bloke, nobody ever had a harsh word to say about him. He refused to say why he hated Johnny Jones, Dave’s dad, “That’s between us two. I’ll kill him one day, though.”
Then it turned out that Dave had two sisters too! They turned up one day, staying for a few weeks. One, the eldest, a little, quiet brunette (Annette?) mind you, anyone would seem quiet compared to the blond-bombshell, Kristine! She had one hellava rep. Said to be quiet mad, violent, and even worse (!) a thief. So we were a bit nervous the evening she turned up at the rec. She certainly you knew she was around, not only was she a strikingly good-looking blond, she was also rather loud. Turned out that her reputation was the usual gossip with no foundation in reality. She was a lovely girl, we all fell in love with her, making sure we were in-line for a big hug. Turned-out into foster care she had grown up overnight. “You either learn to push your case pretty rapidly, or starve!” Most of the foster-parents she was fobbed off on were only interested in the money. They lived well; she was, begrudgingly, given scraps, she was given old worn-out clothes, the family’s kids were dressed like Little lord Fontalroy. She slept in a cold clothes cupboard, etc.…well you get the picture. Once she was old enough to realise she actually had rights and what they were she began complaining. Her foster-parents then ‘got the goat up’ (angry), making her life really miserable - whilst smiling sweetly at the authorities - and usually got rid of her when it got too bad by saying she was uncontrollable, ‘things were going missing’, or accused her of thieving outright. So she got moved on, the authorities snearing at her, telling her she should count herself lucky these lovely people were prepared to share their lives with her. She was only really happy at one place, but they were too old and only a temporary placement. She still kept contact with the old couple, asking advise.
Dave’s family had their troubles, it seems. Johnny had black periods, but he usually just sat by himself in the dark of the front room, until it went over. But I would always pop my head around the door and mouth ‘hallo’ to him, he nodding. Sometimes he would speak to me, “Having a turn, Sparra, now’t to worry over. There’s some drinks in the kitchen, you must both be thirsty.” So whatever was wrong with him he was still lucid and in control. He was a periodic alcoholic, it was said, but I never, ever, saw him drunk, or take a drink. He and his wife used to argue a lot, the police often coming around to sort it out. It frightened the neighbors, it got so loud could hear them at it from our house, 400 yards away! We felt sorry for Dave, but he didn’t seem worried. “They only threaten to kill each other, they never actually do it.” They had first lived in Brixton, then moved to Doncaster, where his father came from, but, having now decided to divorce, the family came back to London so she and Dave could be near her family, the Burns family, for support. Johnny seemingly didn’t have any relatives who cared about him.
Except when he first arrived, Dave always went to a different school to we others. He did a term, or maybe a year, at my primary-school as there was no room at the one he was supposed to go to. There was a delineation line at the nearby crossroads that decided which schools you went to, and he was always on the wrong side of it. So he was always a bit out of it because of this, missing being with his mates. The Jones’ moved a lot at first, but always in the same rough area. Seems Johnny wanted to live better, but had to bite the bullet as the money was too much and they had go back to something cheaper. So we never really became best friends. He always had his own friends, mostly not well-known by we others.
For some reason I was a late starter, and was suprised to find that Dave was my troup leader when I joined the cubs, the 18th Bromley. He and Geoffrey McCormack had a standing feud, despite actually being friends. McCormack always had one more merit badge than Dave, which annoyed him something awfull! As Dave was theoretically one year younger than us (only 3-4 months in reality, compared to me) he stayed on after we others had to leave the cubs for the scouts, and the following summer camp he and Georgie Underwood went to the Isle of Wight. Both were pissed-off at our troop getting all the dogs-body work around camp whilst the others were out having fun, at the previous camp at Bognor Regis, and decided to ‘brown-tongue’ their way to a cushier billet this time. They fronted-up on stage and gave a concert. He and Georgie had done this for fun sometimes and knew they could hack it. Georgie was always interested in skiffle, his dad, our greengrocer, had fixed him a new bass for this camp, a brand-new tea-box, not available for love or money for us other lads, who had to use what crap we could find. Georgie was good, a fine singer too. It is probably he who sowed the seed in David’s mind that was to later result in David Bowie. Dave had shown no specific interest in music, not even when pop got going, and then, when he did, seemingly superficially, just to be in the gang. He and Terry would talk music, but Terry was more towards jazz, something he had picked up in Germany, in the RAF. Anyway, Dave’s and Georgie’s ruse worked, no KP the entire time! They loved that camp, and rubbed our noses in it, gleefully.
I never joined the scouts, finding the cubs unstimulating, and joined the army cadets. Same thing there really, but it was sometimes more exciting, rifle-practice, maneuvers on Dartmoor during summer-camp etc. I was later to find that my time in the Army Cadets was pathetic, compared to being in the Hitler Youth, my German shipyard-mates told me, ‘It was like Christmas every day!’ That was the part they never regretted, ‘Hitler got one thing right.’ I heard that when it came time for Dave to move up to the scouts he waved his arm in McCormack’s face, proudly showing that he now had one more badge than him, for McCormack to snarl at him that he was now Dave’s troup-leader so some respect was called for, respect backed up by THIS, and shoved his arm in David’s face. An arm full of advanced It is about this time, as we now know in retrospect, that Dave began showing some interest in music. He had spent a lot of time with Dudley Chapmen after he and his mum had moved to Paistow Grove, near Sundridge Park Station, and he attended Burnt Ash Primary under the Lloyd’s, the headmaster and his sister, she running the cub-group we joined. He was the first boy to enroll in the recorder (flute) club, the only time he showed any spark of interest in music at all. Playing the recorder was looked on as being ‘girly’ and was the sole preserve of the girls up ’till then. He got ribbed a lot over that. He enjoyed it, so kept it up. To be truthful, I would have taken it up actually, at my primary school, but hated this business of doing scales all the time. The Suzuki method didn’t exist then. Dave was very much into the American Indian culture. When we wanted to be cowboys he always wanted to be an Indian! He had his head deep into various books about Indians and was always preaching their case to us. David was into Daniel Boone and someone called…Bowie. He always wanted to get one of the knives, asking Terry to get one from the Yanks he knew in Germany, but Terry refused, it would have been illegal for him to carry it anyway, but placidated Dave by giving him a baseball glove and ball.
Both Dudley Chapman and I went to Quernmore, the same class in fact, the top ‘R’ class of each year. He was a bit put out about the fact that Dave had dumped him, literally overnight, and to top it off, for Alan Gonzales, ‘a cheap copy’ of himself! “What’s wrong with me, for goodnessakes!” Dave had studiously avoided him ever since he left for Quernmore, for no reason, they had been like brothers before. It took him a while before he felt he was able to talk about it to us. Even Dudley’s parents wondered. As Dave was theoretically a year younger he was at Burnt Ash Primary another year and I used to bump into him too-and-from school, once or twice checking out his new home in Sundridge Park where he now lived, Quernmore being in London Lane, just beyond. Due to this business of going to different schools we only met at irregular intervals.
Dave was actually very angry at not going to Quernmore. There were rumours of how he got to go to the BTC, having failed his ‘Eleven Plus’ exams (a lot of boys deliberately did this, as it was the closest school, within walking distance for most!) What is known that his mum stalked into headmaster Owen Frampton’s office and locked the door behind her. He never talked of it, getting agitated when any of his teacher-collegues broached the subject. The local education board weren’t amused, but could do nothing about it. Frampers was a nice guy, he was very much into choirs, and was in charge of the choral arrangements for all the local schools, we had competitions every year. Dead keen chappie. His son, Peter (later to be a fairly famous rock musician) sometimes took over the sessions when his dad had to be elsewhere. Peter used to impress us all by reading music like we read comics! I later met Owen Frampton again, up in London, at the Mermaid (Garrick) theatre, he very pleased when he heard that I was training to be a scriptwriter. He turned out to be well-known in the theatre and littery-world.
When David went to the BTC up at Keston Mark he had to have an expensive bus-pass. We all wondered how they could afford it. But, though a fair way to go it was never a chore for him, he said he always enjoyed it. He walked down the hill to Burnt Ash Lane and took the 187 or something, which dropped him off outside the school. At the BTC he met Alan Gonzales, who looked something similar to Dudley (in general). The local schools often interacted, we knew each other well, we had choir-practices and competitions as well as sports days etc, at several venues, the grammer school by the Perry Street roundabout, being quiet new and the largest, was used quiet often, and it was here Dave and I most often met during the next years.
Who started the baseball? We hated cricket, and asked if we could try baseball instead. Instant horror. Old man Duggan was a sporting chappie, a superb cricketer. It was bad enough several of us had asked to be excused the morning service, as we weren’t too keen on all the Jesus talk, but not to want to play cricket… But, to our suprise, several of the teachers had learned baseball and basketball from the Americans they met during the war, and backed us up. All were war heros, two flew Tempests in Europe, one flew the rear seat of a Beaufighter in the Far East, one was a top para from Arnhem. Tough guys. Disappointed, Ol’ Ted gave in. Problem: having fun - and it was - could only go so far, eventually you want to thrash somebody to within an inch of their lives, to humiliate them, and there weren’t any Germans around. Thanks to the Jones boy the BTC also had a team. Always into Americana, he had started his very own team, and he too was after blood. So we, teachers and all, trouped over and played them, together with the boys from another school -which I can’t recall- and sometimes, usually on a Saturday, Johnny would bring the kids from the orphanage too. Who won? Don’t recall, don’t care, they were fun days out and the local poplace turned out in droves to cheer us on, we sometimes having a simple ‘barbie’-type picnick. Like I said, popular.
Lot of talk re: the incident of ‘The Eye’, why David has 2 different eyes. It was due to a fight, period. Both he and Georgie asked us to drop it, they had ‘sorted it’ and there was no agro between them anymore. Respecting otherwise stable and honourable boys, we did ‘drop it’. It was obvious to all that both Dave and George were again very close friends, having ‘sorted it’, an we never thought of the incident again, but we all ‘knew’ what happened, we knew both Georgie and David well enough and there had been whispers about David before, as with other boys at various schools, including mine. Don’t believe the business about there being a rift regarding a girl. Despite the fact that getting at a girl in those days (let alone getting anything else) was like coming up trumps in the lottery, nobody took girls that seriously back then.
The two teachers involved took me aside as they were aware that I had known David for a long time, and asked me what was what. Nobody else was talking but they hoped that my relationship with Jimmy Duggan had wised me up to some of the vageries of life, and I would see sense. They had been severely interogated by the police and risked prosecution over the incident, with serious repercussions - especially if Dave had lost the eye, it was that close - and wanted to be able to assess the situation as per it occuring again. I knew several policemen of varying ranks, up to the C/Super of Bow District in the East End (one of the prequisites in applying for that job was documented evidence that the officer concerned had killed with his bare hands on several occasions - hopefully during the war, obviously, German’s being expendable. yes, the job was that tough) and even he had asked me about this incident, the case had gone very high-up in the chain, and talked about in lofty-circles in London, so I was aware that this was serious shit and therefore not ‘snitching’; so I told them what we boys suspected. It was only what they already suspected, but now they knew.
Dave and Johnny used to talk football for hours. The real McCoy, the top british teams were discussed in detail, as were matches, tactics and line-ups. Dave was going to be a pro-footballer when he grew up. He was good too, and probably could have done it if music hadn’t come along. Suddenly, David dropped football and was talking of getting a guitar. Johnny was annoyed, but he’d promised himself he would always stand behind David. He probably thought it was just the usual teenage fad. He told me that he couldn’t understand why things had gone awry with the other kids, but it had. He and his wife decided not to fail with David. And they didn’t. Despite the fact that the family were not wealthy, slightly aloof, speaking better than us, he was well brought-up and always nicely-dressed, a bit of a ‘goodie-two shoes’ really.
Dave had always joined in all the boy-talk about pop, but I can’t recall any particular direction. At first, I though it sounded like he was just trying to ‘be in with the boys’ sort of thing, rather than any serious developing interest. We all talked of of buying a guitar (Bert Weedon and Brian Royston Rankin (Hank Marvin) had a lot to answer for!) Then we were suprised to hear that Dave began hanging out down the Marquee, talking to bands etc. He told me had his eye on a guitar costing about £90, but as he never had a part-time job like a lot of other boys, a paper-round even, he never had any money. Despairing, his hopes of David becoming a top-footballer dashed, Johnny offered to pay for half of it, all Dave had to do was get the rest. He probably though this would end it all, Dave having no money. I offered to front-up with half of the rest, £25 or so, thinking that I could use it too, though I was really out after a bass (they were very rare and hard to get, but Chis Barber’s bass-player was going to keep an eye open when they were over in the States, for me, in case he found a good, but inexpensive acoustic-bass for me. And he and Chris offered to teach me). This done, I heard nothing more about it, and, like everybody else, was suprised when I heard he had bought a plastic sax for about £90 and was taking lessons, which cost money! Where did he get the money from? We were never to hear him play, or even see it, he knew there was always one bastard that would fart-arse around and break it. I later heard that they were easy to break, Dankworth bought dozens of them!
It turned out that he realised that the groups didn’t want another guitarist. He was in contact with guys playing at the Bromton Club at the Bromley Court Hotel, and they were always interested in new talent (as an aid to earn more money) and there was a constant turnover of guys, all vying for ‘the big one’. They were all getting a hard time as the management, and even the public, didn’t like pop groups, they wanted more of a dance band once or twice a week. A combo with a sax seemed to go down better, so Dave changed over, getting the gigs that he wasn’t being offered otherwise. He was still only 14. We were right pissed, he would be in the Marquee playing, we would be outside, not old enough to get in! Did he rub it in.
David’s interest in the occult: Everybody was ‘into’ flying saucers in the 50’s, cheap American sci-fi films and horror-movies were popular, but only because they showed nothing else! Other than this Dave showed no real interest in such things like black magic and the occult, no more than we others, so I can’t recall anything specific that might be of interest to anybody, other than the theory about David Bowie’s possible involvement in the occult that I’m writing seperately to this tome. I know a little about the occult, black magic, and ritual bloodrites etc., as, through Dr. Steven Ward (the Profumo guy) a member of a secret sect, I was introduced to the world of the occult in ’59 when I was twelve and a half years old. Forget Harry Potter, that’s for pussies, I was hypnotised to ‘Level Four’ over several weeks, to be pronounced ‘suitable’, then used in the ceremony mentioned in the rubbish bestseller ‘The Da Vinci Codes’, the sex-ceremony that allowed the group ‘to talk to God’ via the victim’s sexual-orgasm. God in this case being the Holy Grail. For that’s what they were trying to contact. Maybe they are the same thing? In my case I struck lucky, they used thirteen girls in my ritual. If only I could remember the physical side of it - phweogh, I must have had fun! Brown got something right, anyway, the Grail only fires-up once a year, at the time of the Spring Equinox (third week in March) and waits for about a week for somebody to contact it...then powers-down for another year.
Less contact with David now, in our teens, as both he, and especially me, were busy in our spare time, doing different things. I definately recall meeting him down at Jimmy’s place, and this seems to be the first time we met for quiet a while, months, a year? I turned up one Saturday to be greeted by this long, lanky thing in a suit. “Been hearing about you, was wondering when we would met again!” says he, with a huge grin. It was David. Then he gabbered on about the old days down the rec - he’d been remonicing with the guys about the old days and escapades he and me had been up to. They knew most of it anyway, so no red faces. We talked music, me recounting my developing idea of making albums using a common theme, not as now just a collection of separate songs. A musical, ‘painting a story in song’, but using pop and blues etc. I suggested this idea to Alma Cogan once, to be recorded together with Mandy, Dusty Springfield and Diane Cilento it would be called ‘Four Women’. All the other guys there that day, all were gay, all were members of the largest intelligence agency in the country, knew what I had been involved in with Ward, we had been discussing it before David arrived with Gary Glitter, but how much was David aware of? Did he ever meet Mandy Rice-Davies? She was down in Bromley and Beckenham a couple of times, so it’s possible he, at least, had heard of her. He apparently did a film with her, a few years later. Did he get to know her, realise that this was the girl I knew, one he had met or heard talk of? Only way to know is to ask him. He probably met Steven Ward sometime, his father certainly did, Ward was involved in a child-abuse crisis-group and had often been to St. Bernardo’s. I recall Johnny having tea with Ward and me, up in Ward’s flat.
I know Johnny came to the theatre once, bringing a coachfull of kids with him. They had been out to the Tower of London, but this only took half a day and the kids liked to stay out all day when given the chance, anything other than the grey concrete and asphalt of the home, and I had arranged for them, via Bernard Miles, to visit the theatre for a look. Several of the dancers agreed to come in early and help out, it relieved the daily boredom for them too, Nikki Kelly and Ruth Madoc being two I recall (I knew them very well, ahem) and after the usual chore of getting the kids organised and into the toilets for a pee they had found some children’s makeup (the normal greasepaint isn’t good for kids) causing squeels of delight as they made-up cats-faces on the kids, to then help me get the kids going on stage, acting the fool, rolling all over the floor, giggling and moawing, allowed to do things that would get them thumped in other circumstances. We had a great time...and learned a lot. It seemed that it might be a good idea to evolve the idea, even Bernard admitted to that. Johnny later told me, with a huge grin, that none of the kids washed for a week afterwards, all wanting to keep their ‘cat-faces’ as long as possible! Was David with us this day? I can’t recall.
I had an ulteria motive for all this, one Bernard had mulled-over and agreed-too. One of the ladies present had given me a book to dramatise, she thought it would make a good musical. She got laughed at. Knowing her, and loving her as I did, I didn’t laugh, I knew she was being serious. She owed me bigtime, and I realised this was the only way she could say ‘thank you’. So I took it seriously, suggesting it might be better to make a pantomime of it (hence my experiment with the kids) asking Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones to help me with the music. He looked a bit shocked, but was that the theme of the book...or me asking him? This business with Jimmy ‘the Jackal’ Duggan and the my involvement in the Profumo Affair ruined it all, it never happened. Only when her son grew up and finished the job, creating the longest-running theatrical-production of all time, did Mrs. Lloyd-Webber finally get the last laugh on everybody who laughed at her.
David had come with Paul Gadd, aka Paul Raven, aka Gary Glitter. Short silence as we all absorbed this, then the conversation were off again. Later, when it was opportune, several of the guys indicated we get our heads together. You didn’t waltz in on one of Paul’s arms without there being fire under the smoke, nod-nod-wink-wink, especially when you had openly admitted to staying the night at Paul’s. Paul’s act was talked about and needed checking out, so Dave had latched onto him, following along on the gigs as a bit of a roadie. This is where he got the glam-act together, that he was later to make his trademark, it wasn’t something he thought up on his own, he has merely followed up Paul’s original ideas, developing them, making them work to maximum effect. He had suddenly sprouted up from the scrawny kid he had been and being so tall, much taller than me at the time (though not now) thus gave the impression of being a bit older than he was. There were inquiries as to his age. They were not amused to hear he was 3-4 months younger than me, barely 15! Silence from the guys. Both Paul’s and David’s body-language spoke volumes as to their relationship. “Paul’s sailing close to the wind in dangerous waters,” was the muttered comment.
As said, David and I had only occasionally bumped into each other since the divorce, but exactly when and where and what we did etc., I can’t be sure. The new Wimpy Bar was popular. Once, I was coming out of Freeman, Hardy, and Willis (the Woolies of shoes) with the ‘chisel’-toe’d shoes I’d just bought - for the usual 36shillings, the most popular price-range - and bumped into the gang of David, Alan, and George. Was flush with cash (probably in the spring ’61, having gotten good Christmas-boxes) so invited them for a cuppa and cake, on me. They all tried the new shoes, admiring them, wishing it was them who owned them, not me! I’d asked Jimmy’s dad, our headmaster, permission to buy them, as I would have to use them at school. He was very fussy about such things, sending boys home who had the temerity to try to try and get away with pushing the Victorian attitudes of the day. You had to understand him though, just the thought of Helge (my brother) in drainpipes and winklepickers would cause ripples of disgust and embassessment to run down your spine! The last time I recall we ever met was down the Wimpy Bar in the middle sixties, when I was over on holiday. I’d bumped into ‘The Lower Third’ lads, the lads mentioned in my book about Jimmy, the rewrite of Forsyth’s ‘The Day Of The Jackal’, and invited them for a bite. They filled me in a bit re: ‘that’ time, when I caused Britain to shake in it’s boots (have written my memoirs, called Parallel Universe, explaining that. Ignore Christine Keeler’s book, that’s rubbish) and what went on afterwards, the gossip etc. They were doing quiet well themselves, having toured with the Kalin Twins, and a stint over in Europe. Tales of the goings on in the back of the ambulance they’d bought to tour in just got raunchier and raunchier as time past! One wonders about the Hywell Bennett films, one featured a raunchy scene in an ambulance. Where did that scene come from? Mmm? They’d problems with singers: Graham and Dave were both excellent singers, but they’d noticed that promoters looked a bit sceptical at only three guys, and they’d noticed themselves that it got a bit much for them at times, so they were looking for another member, another singer perhaps. They were keen on Georgie Underwood, but his dad had vetoed it, saying he had to finish his studies at art college first. There was this Jones chappie, who had been onto them but they weren’t too keen on him, he not being a very good singer, not really what they wanted anyway. There were a couple of girls (forget names now, sisters, they had been around since the early sixties) but they were looking more at guys and babies now, not a career singing.
Then David turned up at Wimpy’s. He had worked for Vic Furlong a year, then Frampers had talked to friends up in London and fixed him a job in Tin-Pan-Alley, in a music publishers, where he was now. After a long and amiable chat - and a free hamburger - he left for home. Johnny was dead by this time. Shame, I would have gone over and said hallo if he had been alive. Hayward Jones was a lovely bloke, despite his problems, which I never saw. I never understood Terry’s agro towards him, but there had to be a reason. Johnny worked for St. Bernado’s. He told me the others there called him ‘the Sergeant-Major’. They didn’t like him. This was solely due to the fact that he knew that they were on the fiddle, and when he got promoted to a position of command he put a stop to it. “The money collected is for the kids, not the works outing!” he snarled. He ran a tight ship, demanding genuine compassion for the kids, demanding that every farthing was accounted for, and that every farthing was spent on the kids and running the homes. Minimal admin costs and if the employees wanted a party they could jolly well pay for it themselves or invite the kids too! After the divorce he moved down the road to a tiny cul-de-sac where he lived in a one room cottage. I sometimes used to go over at a weekend and help him service his Fiat 500 car (went with the job) as David was useless. Enjoyed sitting outside the cottage sunning myself, chatting to Johnny over a cuppa. As said, nice bloke. You could talk to Johnny. Despite the reputation, he was one of the sanest people I ever met.
The problem of Vic Furlong was reluctantly brought up by the guys. I was going over to see him - he was very busy at the moment, hence me having a cuppa at Wimpy’s - so they thought I ought to be aware of events, so not to put a foot in it. David had been sacked by Furlong, he hadn’t quit. Ooops…I knew instantly this was serious. Knowing Vic, I realised what a traumatic incident that must have been for him. He was the kindest, most gentle of men, and would have moved heaven and earth to avoid such a thing.
In late ’61 and early in ’62 I had quit both my part-time jobs and the Army Cadets prior to moving to Norway, my having to tell Bernard Miles he had to find somebody else for the job (the authoresse Jackie Collins, actually. I had, at first, thought of dating Jackie, but Anthony Newly told me not to bother... so, at her request, I introduced her to one of the girl-dancers I had been dating, Jackie still barely 16 and very shy about that sort of thing). Then came a period of hiatus, I was left high and dry, not knowing when we were leaving, or where too. It later transpired that Dad was in the process of changing jobs, and we wound-up in Sweden in ’63. Being at a loose end I thought of getting a temporary job, one I could leave anytime, not knowing when the call to the wild would come. I sounded out Vic. He did think about it, but…no. He was getting the help he needed from Bill Wyman and, financially, he couldn’t cover a full-time employee as well. I was still welcome in for a cuppa though. However, when Bill signed full-time for The Rolling Stones, Vic found that he did indeed need another pair of hands. Now leaving school, David Jones was given the job. As part of his wages David was allowed to borrow a ‘real’ saxophone from Vic’s stock. This is probably the one shown in various photos of Dave Hatfield’s King Bee’s (?) and The Lower Third, after he had joined them.
Now things get a bit hairy…Vic’s ‘flexable’ attitude to the financial side of his business might lead you to think he had no real idea of the state of the business, let alone his till. Not so. He indeed had a pretty shrewd idea what was what, he just wasn’t very interested in writing it down. His partner, Andy Volpe (Diane Cilento’s ex-husband) checked the books and did the boring side of the business for him when needed. But then Vic became uneased. He didn’t seem to be taking in as much as before, but business was very good. Mmm. At the yearly audit and stock-taking his partner confirmed there indeed was a problem. I can’t recall how much was missing. Vic tried to ignore it, as his want, hoping it was a one-time aberration due to inexperience, but Andy didn’t think so, insisting that it be taken up. Eventually, knowing that if he didn’t do it Andy would, Vic bit the bullet, took a big breath…and asked David about it. David sneered at him. ‘So what, I’m worth it, aren’t I?’
The lads and I left the Wimpy Bar and I slowly walked over the road to Vic’s, not wanting to go really, after what I had heard, but knowing Vic wouldn’t be happy if he found out I’d visited Bromley, but not him. A trifle tense meeting took place, though he welcomed me from the heart, he was glad to see me, but there was something under the surface. Andy arrived, also very glad to see me, and the atmosphere lightened a bit, though he had to force it a bit, making up for Vic’s somewhat subdued attitude. Whatever it was, we eventually enjoyed ourselves. We talked a bit about Jimmy, but they knew little of the dark background, only the street-talk. I avoided talking about David, letting them lead that side of the conversation, they didn’t yet know that I knew he had worked there. It came out that Vic and David had ‘had a thing going’, when David worked there. Andy wasn’t suprised or offended, he knew it wasn’t serious, he and Vic were very much in love and settled in their ways now. In fact, he had half expected it when he first met David. So, this was why David had been allowed to borrow the sax, something Vic apparently wouldn’t have done normally, it being stock, and expensive, about £350. But David pushed it further than that. Thinking that Vic’s lax ways ment he didn’t know how much was coming in, David began to slip the odd note from the pile on the counter into his pocket. As par for the course, it got to be more and more, until there was no doubt that the till was short.
Vic was going to try and ‘get it sorted’, to ease over the problem, as was his way. If David needed som extra cash he could have asked for a loan, not just filtched it. He was so taken aback by David’s cheek he got angry (wow) and told him he had to go. David looked at him, then turned and went downstairs, to return with the saxophone. “For services rendered,” he grinned, holding it up. And walked out. Vic was apoplectic, struck dumb by it all, Andy was nervous he might try to kill himself. He was never the same man again, demanding cash up front from all customers, locking the till, checking the receipts every evening. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
Andy took me over the road for a tea when we left, he wanted to talk to me, he needed to get it off his chest and had nobody to talk to but me, as I knew all about him and his problems with Diane. He would have procecuted for theft, but Vic said no. “The problem was that David was only a young boy of sixteen. It wouldn’t go down well in court when - not if, when - they found out that he had ‘seduced’ David. He hadn’t actually, he told me that he tried to ignore the signals David was giving him, especially as David was working for him, but David didn’t give up and Vic fell for the temptation in the end, I’d been away on business for a few weeks and he was getting lonely. But the courts wouldn’t see it that way, Vic would have found himself in deep trouble, he was likely to go to prison - which would have killed him. Assuming it didn’t, the business would have gone down the tubes, anyway, and he would have to move. He was tired of flitting here and there, as during the days he was on the road in the bands. He liked Bromley, he wanted to stay. He could have moved in permanently with me, but he didn’t want to be ‘bought’, he wanted to be his own man. It’s not the same for us, you know,” he explained.
I didn’t really ‘know’, but nodded anyway.
A day or two later I was up near Crystal Palace and bumped into Terry and the lady he had married. They invited me up for a cuppa and a chat - they lived nearby - so off we goes. I felt a trifle wary inside, as Terry had said I was, ‘Just the person I wanted to see!’ Ominous.
We began by catching up on lost years. Terry had at last admitted to himself, well, to a degree, that he had a problem that needed dealing with. He was not entirely convinced that it was a bad as had been suggested to him, but…he had taken the step. I had heard of ‘The Burns Curse’ over the years, but had never noticed anything wrong with Terry. He and his wife had met during therapy, she was also under treatment for something mental. They were getting it sorted. She seemed a little quiet, but ok otherwise. They genuinely liked each other, that was clear. Terry was… a little troubled. I could see he was holding back, trying to be polite, going though the motions. There came the time when we couldn’t play around anymore, the point when I was going to find out why ‘I was just the person he wanted to see.’ Even she saw it coming, so got another cuppa and cake sorted for us all, and sat back waiting for it. Terry had been hearing things about David. Not very nice things, so he would understand if I didn’t want to talk of it, assuming that I knew of it. “I know it all,” says I, heart in mouth. “What do you want to know.”
I told him all, in detail, even using the rude words sometimes used. Clear and to the point. They sat silent for a while, she taking his hand. “Right. Now I know for sure,” say Terry. “Well, thanks mate, for being straight with it. I got what I asked for. Not nice to hear, even so.” And adding he was hearing was more or less the same as I had told him.
“I must say,” I added, “that this isn’t the David I once knew, but neither Vic or Andy are into lying. Something’s changed in David.” Terry agreed. “No, it doesn’t. But it’s a fact. You know that I hated Johnny, but don’t misunderstand me when I say I’m glad he’s dead - it’s not because we had bad-blood between us, no, not that - but I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. Whatever the problems between Johnny and me, David was always neutral-ground. This would have killed him. Our mother doesn’t count, she barely knows what day of the week it is, seems to be unaware of anything around her, always was a bit cold like that. She seemed suprised that I was there, and never knew how to look after me...or wanted to. She never hugged me at all, ever. Why Johnny married her has always been a mystery to me, though I’ve overheard whispers that it was ‘arranged’, he being an alcoholic and on his ‘uppers’, nobody wanting my mum, she carrying ‘the Burns Curse’ and me to boot, and somebody put them together. D’you know, I must say I’ve heard other things that make me uneasy about David. David’s met some guy I’ve heard some weird things about, who seems to control him, twist his mind. The only clue to his unusual behaviour now. I wonder... Sometimes - sort of once a year maybe - we used to have a visitor, ‘a strange man in an overcoat and hat’, was my boyish view of him, always used to wonder who he was, he didn’t seem related to us - I recall them both calling him ‘Mr’-something - I was generally shussed-out to play and never really saw him. My impression was that Johnny didn’t like him and he didn’t fit in other than he was possibly checking on my mum. But why? She only occassionally had contact with doctors, and then only when I was very young, rarely later, she seemed better then. I’ve the impression somebody still visited after Johnny chucked me out, but I’ve never seen them so it’s not me they visited. Did you ever see anybody?” (No, not that I recall). “I was wondering if the two are connected.” Terry drifted-off in thought for a while, then squared his shoulders. “Whatever. How much was that sax worth, how much money did he take?” More than he could afford, he was told, but I told him. Terry said he was going to talk to David about this, he said he would go around and talk to Vic and Andy about it, too. The guys would never have accepted the money from him anyway, it was never a question of the money. I told him that too.
I learned years later that Terry had gone out one day and put his neck on the rails in front of an express-train. I don’t know when this was, but I hope it wasn’t a result of that conversation…
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: Re: the white duke
Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2005 21:53:17 +0800
no, i've not thought about publishing anything on bowie, i don't really know or remember enough of him to make a good book on it. if there's anything there you can use, use it, ok by me, i'll edit or rewrite anything that needs 'cleaning up', whatever. you may even use my name. no problemo. i'll get back to you with my appraisal of bowie and the occult when it's finished, same there. it might take a few weeks, needs a lot of thought. the more i think of it the more certain i become that there might be 'something' there. but what are they using him for. 'mindwashing' todays youth via his music is the only thing i can think of, just a tiny cog in a huge machine, but that machine just might start-up one day. something tells me that day won't be nice. i shall also have to explain more about what, why, and how, i know about the black occult. it all comes down to the holy grail, and the power struggles to own it, and use it. i knew people who could use it, but didn't have it. those who have it can't use it! and i know what the grail really looks like, and the method to use it, and where it is. all i have to do is work out how to steal it! (no harder than winning the lottery...) difficult because i know that it takes at least 4 hours to get at it, with the correct tools, and there a regiment of 'nice' soldiers just 4 minutes run away, bayonets fixed. but when i get it i can't use it either, or speak aramayic! love to try though. 'bye!
From: "sverre xxx"
Subject: RE: the very thin white duke
Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2005 16:46:11 +0800
>From: "Peter-R. Koenig"
>To: "sverre xxx"
>Subject: the very thin white duke
>Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2005 08:22:41 +0100
>again many thanks for your very interesting email.
>what do you think about posting your extremely fascinating memories to my website? >
Is David Bowie involved in the Black Occult?
PRK: Well, Sverre, you’ve had time to mull it over, you’ve said you’re beginning to see possible connections, the possibility that David Bowie might well be involved with the occult. What proof do you have regarding Bowie’s occult connections?
Sverre: Firstly, Peter; what makes YOU think he has?
PRK: It’s everywhere in his song-texts, and has been talked about ’underground’ for years now.
Sverre: A paradox: it does indeed look that way, but there's no proof. it's all very vague. But I doubt he’s into biting heads off chickens, his possible involvement is more serious than that.
PRK: More serio...Ok, tell me.
Sverre: It’s going to be a long story, I’ve written several scripts in what spare time I have, and seen that there’s no easy, fast, conscise way to explain all this. It could get a bit messy, ok? You, and the people who hopefully are surfing to your site, will probably react to various things, demand explainations, roar out loud that I’m crazy, a madman, etc., so I’ll have to try and anticipate and answer these accusations. I want to avoid cluttering things up too much as I was involved in other things too, but they intertwine, and in some cases become the same thing. Some of what you’ll read you’ve already read in my emails, but we have to recap it anyway. Be aware that I’ve been noting down childhood memories for 24 years now, seriously writing for 13-14 years, only getting into my occult memories these last 3-4 years, and Bowie, these last weeks. I originally wrote a book about a friend of mine, a mercenary and a pro-assassin. I only intended to take enough to live simply on, the rest was slated for charity, but Freddie Forsyth, who wrote the original book mine was, by nesseccity, based on, as it was about the same guy, wasn’t interested in republishing the book. Annoyed, but unable to do anything about it I decided to mull over and perhaps write about my years with Dr. Steven Ward, in case I could sell that. It needed doing anyway, the truth should be told one day, but, oh boy, it got so bad I realised that I could never sell that one either!
Sverre: Not that it’s still very dangerous -it is- that doesn’t worry me, but one of the major players is still alive and doesn’t need the agro and media attention my revelations will unleash. Don't care about the others, though. No further comment.
PRK: Ok. Well, what have you?
Sverre: It’s suprising how much you forget over the years, it’s also suprising how much you can recall if you write down things, just simple reminders, jotting down wisps of memories that flit through your brain, pictures, etc. Eventually there’s enough there for you to suddenly say, ’Eureka, why didn’t I remember that!’ It’s the way memory works. This is how psychiatrists work, y’know. I’ve been involved in ’shady’ things that perhaps should be toned down -though I have written of them and hidden the documents in secure places in various parts of the world- we are here to talk about David Bowie, not get involved in ’shady’ things, so I’ll have to try and censure things out.
PRK: But Bowie is intertwined in these ’shady’ things? Shady things you’ve written about in your memoirs, ’Parallel Universe’?
Sverre: On the periferary, not actively, as far as I know. He may have seen and heard things, he wasn’t part of them. The only way to find out how much he knows of my involvement with Steven Ward and the occult, of my involvement with Ward and Profumo affair, is to ask him. You might be interested to know that I know very little about his career and his music. I seemed to have missed his rise to fame totally (as with Gary Glitter, too) only becoming aware of him in the mid-seventies via a workmate into ’weird music’, and who taped a lot of Bowie’s music and sold it to the Russian sailors we met in our shipyard. Not for Roubles -we have toilet-paper, thank you, much softer stuff, too- but for ’Underground’ Russian music and Vodka. I’m sure he’ll give David a bottle in compensation! It came out one day that I was from Bromley, and he perked-up, saying I must know Bowie (yeah, and 14 million other Londoners...) To cut a long story short, over a few months he kept offering me various bits of background he’d found about Bowie and I began to realise that it was indeed possible I met him sometime, though I couldn’t place him. Well, he was wearing all this weird makeup and things, so you couldn’t recognise him anyway! I actually only knew for sure when, one day at the library -I forget which year this was- I looked at a book about him finding a photo I once had, one from the cub-camp at Bognor Regis in ’58, and realising one or two family photos looked familiar. “Oh, THAT twat, how did HE manage to get famous!” Anyway, this guy played one or two of his ’biggest hits’, me desperately trying not to fall asleep, so boring were they-
PRK: Boring!? How can you say that! His texts are brilliant!
Sverre: Well, most of what I’ve heard is boring. ’Red Shoes’, the one about Australia, is the only one I can recall; that was a good one and I’ve lived in Australia and admired that he was helping the Abo’s get a better press, the ones I met were great.
Sverre: Ok, let’s be boring and think logically, Peter. Let’s be German, ok, can you manage that? Everyone can hum a few hits from various artists over the years, even me, but can you hum any of Bowie’s? Well, being a fan you probably can, but 99.9% of the people out there can’t, assuming they’ve actually heard of him.
PRK: He’s one of the most famous artists in the world!
Sverre: This is going to be a long conversation... I’ve tried to listen to some of his songs when he’s been on the radio or tele, the Parkinson Show, for example, I’ve tried to decipher the text for things I might know about, knowing his background, but I find his songs indecipherably-obtuse, as can be his conversations. He does have good projection, though, and even his band is colour-coded. If he was Robbie Williams he would be near perfect! He gives the impression of being a deep thinker, a writer of poetry, an Andy Worhol of song, and people seem to regard him in awe, almost god-like. I sit there and wonder how he got so famous, and so rich, by spouting-forth such rubbish!
Sverre: I’m telling you this so you see that I’ve no axes to grind regarding Bowie. I don’t hate him, I’m not jealous of him (only his money!) I have no ’outstanding business’ with him in any form. I liked the David I knew. The only thing is this business with Vic Furlong, I’m not happy about that but it’s a long time ago and we all make mistakes, it’s never caused me any problems in life. It’s his problem, he has to live with it. As to being gay, who cares today. Nobody. A lot of them actually flaunt it! As said, up until now I’ve had no reason to mull over his eventual connections with the occult, but now I have I see slight clues, matching patterns.
PRK: And you think he maybe has connections? Sverre:Ok, let’s try and start with a summery of David and his ’quirks’. David was a very nice, reliable boy, until he reached puberty, then certain things seemingly went wrong: HE BECAME A TEENAGER! Just joking, Peter, taking off a well-known British comedy-charactor. Though nice, he was always a bit of a loner, he always remained slightly aloof, he never made any real friends, so people were suprised when he became friends with Dudley Chapman, let alone to the degree they were beginning to be regarded as brothers. Then he suddenly dumps him for ’a cheap copy’ of him. Maybe Alan Gonzales was like David, a ’Boy from Brazil’ -it’s a phrase I can explained later, ok? And David was told it was more suitable to befriend him, safer.
PRK: Did you know Alan Gonzales?
Sverre: I met him, didn’t know him. Was he from South Africa? I knew a boy from South Africa, who’s father worked at some trade commission, but as far as I know they didn’t know each other, though they might have gone to the same school in the latter years, I recall a school-photo, but that could have been at choir-practice with the various schools mixed. That Bowie book, I think. Some of what happened afterwards could be David reacting to realising he liked boys. Many of my gay mates told me their first reactions were to boys, not girls, they forcing themselves to ’like’ girls until it became obvious something was wrong. I must add, if anything he’s not gay, but bisexual, as many are to be honest, I could mention names you’d recognise...but won’t, it’s not my business. He might not even be gay at all. That is a distinct possibility. But Terry was very worried about David, he mentioned that last time we met that, ’it had started in David’s teens’. I said nothing at the time, but wondered what he ment. He could have ment it started when David reached puberty and, if he was mixed-up with these occult people, was introduced to the sex-orgies they indulge in.
PRK: Sex-orgies!? That needs explaining!
Sverre: Yes, sex-orgies. The elite families of Britain, er...not all but some, to be fair, indulge in ritual sex-orgies. I’m now told it occurs all over the ’civilised’ world, all is interconnected, as they are all the same people. I’ve gotten into this in my emails. Suddenly being thrust into that would undoubtably be something very traumatic for David, causing him to be confused, it’s bad enough in normal circumstances! I was lucky here, it gradually built up over several years, but even the first time I did it (in a non- hypnotic state) I got it all wonky too. Promise me never to ask Christine Keeler about it...
PRK: Oh yes, this sounds interesting!
Sverre: Down Rover, heel-heel! It’s this sort of thing I’m trying to avoid talking about, Peter, it just clouds the issue, though I might sometimes have to hint at it. I see this: David, though from a poor family, never wanted. He was well-dressed, not posh but enough, you would never know he was from the poorest street in town, he was better-dressed than me. He was healthy and, though his mother couldn’t cook at all -boiling water was a strain- well enough fed. He was far better off than most. He was well-educated, though this is nothing unusual, but his mother ’fixed it’ so he went to a better school. I suspect she didn’t use sex, as everybody thought, but read Frampton the riot-act knowing he was David’s mentor and ’one of them’, the Jones’ being promised by certain people David would be well-looked after and well-educated. All the illegitimate children bred by the elite, we can call them ’The Boys from Brazil’ after the film of the boys we know the Germans bred -
PRK: Who and what are the Boys from Brazil?
Sverre: Ok, he’s not giving up, so a short history lesson is obviously called for. It was this sort of ’delay’ I was trying to avoid. Up until Crecy -can’t recall the year- very few nobles were killed. They used to just take each other hostage, no big deal, the money and property was merely moved from one branch of the family to another. Nobody really took it that seriously, it was ’just a game’ to them, it ment nothing to them that the peasants were slaughtered, they would soon breed more sons, stupid fools. But the terrain at Crecy, and the weather, ment the nobles in the British Army couldn’t get up front in time, the longbowmen had the time to take out their knives and axes and slaughter the French nobles to a man. Utter carnage. When the nobles fell of their horses etc., their armour stuck to the mud, making them helpless, they couldn’t get up. This has been exhaustively tested by Oxford Dons and is fact. This and the French Revolution frightened ’the establishment’ rigid, it was not ment they get killed! As their wives could only produce so many children and only a few of these survived to reach maturity, let alone those born arse-stupid or mad and of no use, they began to father illegitimate children to make up the numbers. These were kept secret, of course, but they were discretely looked after and, if they showed signs of something that could be of use, they were further helped in their careers and married into the family etc. But they mainly bred ’extra’ children to ensure the line continued despite war and pestulance, and because inbreeding causing impotance etc. This is why the ’Best Man’ came about, Peter, and the ’Honeymoon’. The best man would sleep in the same bed and also shag the wife, just to ensure something happened. This is also why we have ’Godfathers’ and ’honoury fathers’, they were, in those early days at least, probably the real father! And if the father died early these ’extra fathers’ would discretely look after and breed with the wives or married daughters if needed. And if it turned out that the wife or daughter was sterile they just used any girl available, their own children if needs be, taking mistresses or using chambermaids etc. Sex is something they just do to produce heirs, to keep the bloodline going. Anything went. Hence these sex-orgies, they were to get people used to just doing it with anybody available, without flinching. This is why I know they haven’t found anybody powerful-enough to operate The Grail, they would used it to protect themselves from war and the plagues otherwise, but without it they had to hunker-down and survive, come what may. Using these drakonian-methods, they have. They were lucky though, it turns out that today’s medical people think the lice that spread the plague didn’t like the smell of horses and thus avoided chewing on many of the nobility, they being the ones who mostly rode horses. Dratted fussy lice, to think we might have avoided many of those wars if they had PREFERED the smell of horses! The boys would obviously have to reach puberty before being initiated in the orgies. Actor James Robertson-Justice, who I met a couple of times, told me this was also to create a ranking amongst the boys -dogs and baboons do it all the time- I was told ’certain elements’ at the top public schools -he went to Eton and Oxford- would have sex with each other, even though not gay -hence me saying David might not be gay. It might be this that ’changed’ David’ in his early teens, he was only human, after all, a scared, confused young boy.
PRK: Robertson-Justice, a great actor. Was he gay?
Sverre: Possibly. I was at his home once and my impression today is that he was a ’crusty batchelor’, though my memory can be false, I certainly didn’t meet a wife or daughter. I didn’t think of it, half of the people in ’the arts’ were gay, the girls too, you got so used to it you didn’t think of it. Lesbians are just more fussy about men, that’s all.
PRK: Why were you at his home?
Sverre: (grinning) Not what you’re thinking! He used to do a lot of the ’rapid-rewrites’ at the theatres, as did Diana Dors, Barbara Windsor and some of the actors who had been to Oxford, they all learning to type as part of their curriculum. Like Peter Ustinov, he was interested in me, why I was being touted as a ’boy-genius’, not ’that’, Peter! He was actually a very quiet, thoughtful man, not the blustering, roaring maniac he played on the screen. He was a German-addict if you didn’t know and are interested, he spoke all the dialects from Germany, Austria and Switzerland, so fluently you would never know he wasn’t one! I introduced him to a guy who had been Liebstandarten and they nattered for hours, this guy not realising JRJ wasn’t German! I never ever had a problem with homosexuals, Peter, I find them lovely people. Anyway, he knew I was into girls in a big way, everybody knew, there are no secrets in the film and theatrical-world. It was often touted that there were ghosts in the theatres, people were very supersticious -incredably- but it was often just somebody letting-off steam. The squeels carried a long way in an empty theatre!
PRK: Girls again. It sounds like you really had fun!
Sverre: Girls, motorbikes and The Shadows: my three vices, Peter!
PRK: Two out of those three aren’t vices! Did you meet a lot of girls via Ward? He was said to have run a brothal.
Sverre: ’Yes’, and ’not when I knew him’, to those questions. The ’prostitutes’ touted in the press were the ladies-in-waiting from Buck House having fun on their days off, nobody ever had to pay for it, they gave it away! But to get back to our thread; Ward investigated all this orgy-business very thoroughly, knowing he could use these people’s weird sexual-habits to get into ’the inner-sanctum’ to look for the ledgers we were hunting, hence his team of girls. Ronna Ricardo, who supplied the landed-nobility with young girls for one-on-one’s and orgies, drew a line though. ”At least my girls are 16 years old, made-up to look twelve, and I try and stay and look after them,” she said, ”and I guarenteed picked them up afterwards, to see they were safe and alive. There were other suppliers though, and I heard that girls, and boys, sometimes just dissappeared. Not on my shift.” She told of obvious signs of torture, they obviously into ritual sex-rites, of her refusing to supply girls to those people again, they just offering more money. She knew a guy in the IRA and was toying with the idea of getting a bomb into place but these people were very security-consious, checking such things. This not fantacy, but proven fact. I saw Richard Burton in one photo Ward showed me and spoke to him about it. Why Ward showed me that photo. He wasn’t part of the orgy, he was appalled at what he saw, he had been a dinner-guest in a fine house in London, saw Mandy’s and my film afterwards, and, sensing something, slipped into the shadows to watch as the guests who stayed to see the film again turned the lights down. ”I have known true fear. I thought I’d seen evil in the face during the war, but no, I was first looking it in the face now...and I feel fear again.”
PRK: Heavy stuff. Was this Mandy Rice-Davies? What film was this?
Sverre: Later. Like not to actually get into it; clouding the issue?
PRK: Ok. You knew Burton, too?
Sverre: I knew many famous actors and actresses. Richard was my honoury father. I loved him very much, he was a wonderful man, I felt safe with him. I felt the same about Sid James, too. I think they were both like Ward, both psychic, possibly from the same occult Chaet dynasty that Ward was from.
PRK: Heavy. I can hear that you really ment that. Burton always was an enigma, he never, ever, let anybody get close to him. Except Liz, maybe. Did you ever meet her?
Sverre: No, but she was being talked about, he was being ribbed about her. The impression was that it was she who was after him. He was still married, I think, but hadn’t lived with his wife for a long time. No acrimony there, though, he still loved her, but, perhaps because he was psychic they couldn’t live together. I think it’s the main reason he drank. Tommy Cooper told me it was the only thing that dulled the voices.
PRK: But, to get back to this orgy, how could Ward get good photos with low lights -without being seen, I presume?
Sverre: If he was seen they just thought it erotic. Very heavy stuff indeed...this orgy stuff, too, I knew not of such goings on until this moment. Ward was warning me of things to come. They were planning to train me to join the team, me shagging the wives and daughters, the guys I suspect were doing this -Burton and James might have been two of them- were getting too old for the stress, and possibly Ward was preparing me to join in the orgies if needs be.
PRK: And you went along with this? How old were you?
Sverre: Mmm...probably our first film Burton saw, still in ’61 then, or just into ’62? I would just be fifteen. Like everything else, it sort of happened, I seemed to fall into it. My work with the doctors had toughened me, trained my mind. I might have looked a schoolboy but I was quiet advanced, mature, by this time. Heck, I was a rugby-player! I trusted the guys, they saw I was usefull. Er...I probably wasn’t thinking. I can’t really answer that question now, I can’t recall exactly what I was thinking. I can only paint the picture, you must look at it. Oh yes, the film, Roger Hollis, who later became head of M.I.5, supplied the film. I think we still only had about 60ASA on the market at the time. I recall David Bailey going bonkers at being given a box-load of Ilford 125ASA monochrome to test, he and Lewis Morley ripping-off several reels there and then to test it, me still being naked at the time -they prefered ’life-shots’ by the way, though they also did shots with clothes on, clothes absorb a lot of light, you see. I think Mandy had gone home, Rachman’s birthday or something. I also recall the films were always kept in a small fridge when being stored, the guys were very fussy about this, they only kept those few rolls, the rest went into Ward’s fridge. But this film Ward was now using was military and around 3,000ASA and very fine-grain indeed. Photo-recon stuff from the airforce.
PRK: Wow, you could film in the dark with that!
Sverre: Yes, almost. Ward’s photos were so bright and clear you wouldn’t think they were taken only in the light of our film. The grain was so fine the enlargements showed Ward reflected in a mirror, showed that he had recently shaven, and that blob in the back of another shot was a shocked Burton, looking on.
PRK: Who has these photos today?
Sverre: The world is your oyster. They might still be in a bankbox somewhere.
PRK: I can’t let it go: You mentioned a film, you’ve mentioned a ’Mandy’; was this Mandy Rice-Davies? You made a film with her? It sounds to me as though it was a sex film.
Sverre: Yes, yes, yes.
PRK: Wow! Can you tell me about that?
Sverre: It is this I’m trying not to talk about, it gets us away from David Bowie. But I will say here it didn’t start out as a porno but a sex-education movie especially made for one specific couple who needed educating. Close friends of Ward who found themselves in dire trouble, the husband, especially, being suicidal. It luckily coincided with our research at the time, so we were halfway there anyway, saving time. Ward asked me to ’step over the line’ (in the sand) with him, and help him. As I knew and loved the couple I didn’t hesitate. We saved their lives. His certainly. I was promised a girlfriend to fully research the project but they had a hard time finding the right girl, a slag from the Soho wasn’t good-enough, it had to be a girl I would normally fall for. And this turned-out to be Mandy.
PRK: Lucky you!
Sverre: Not so in the beginning, we fought like cats. But let’s not get into that, ok? To finish this off; The professors were quietly involved, of course, and as it fitted-in with the spider-web of research and projects they and a lot of other people were involved in, the police and social-services, for example, the film was later extended to be used in a curriculum for sex-education in schools. Profumo’s wife was involved, he absolutely knew of it. We actually did 4 films, three to train on -though a fine photographer, Ward knew nothing of movies- the last in colour, for the schools. By this time the couple were ok, by the way, as such one film would have surficed. They invited me home for the weekend, to thank me. I used to badger the guys at the theatre about filming-techniques, I was supposed to be learning this anyway, but it turned-out everybody knew what we were filming. Got a few dates out of that! Many people were totally ignorant about sex in those days, how they had babies, I just don’t know!
PRK: He made a film with Mandy, Bowie, ’Absolute Beginners’. They knew each other.
Sverre: Ah, but how well? Filming can be a bit funny, you may only see somebody in just the scenes you play together. You might never speak otherwise. It’s possible Bowie met Mandy at my mercenary-mate’s flat, Jimmy, he may have heard talk of her, but I can’t be sure. I’ve seen something on the Net about that film, James Fox was in it, too. I met him at Alma Cogan’s home once, he seemed a very nice guy. Like Lord Lichfield, he stubbled some toes and had to get out of the army before he ’commited suicide’, a la those squadies at Deepcut Barracks, or whatever it’s called.
PRK: Are you telling me people are getting murdered in the military? Why?
Sverre: Yes, they are; and it’s usually because they’ve seen or refuse to have anything to do with the illegal weapons sales that the army-maffia are into. Run by the sons of the families we are talking about.
PRK: Something tells me you’re right, there are things we shouldn’t discuss here. Are you telling me you suspect David Bowie is a Boy from Brazil? He’s the illegitimate offspring of somebody very powerfull?
Sverre: I personally think he looks like his dad, but as it’s a question of passing genes on it could be his mother’s genes that count here. But it is a possiblity we must bare in mind. These people not only breed themselves but must have been trying to breed the psychic’s that occasionally turn up in their midst. The Burn’s family might be such a family. These children would have a ’guardian-angel’, a mentor, who would look out for them, even Ward’s people had them, one of the things you can look for. I suspect the Lloyd’s at Burnt Ash could have been the first, then Frampton. There would have been somebody else at the BTC, perhaps, but I can’t think who, but logic says that they couldn’t have had people everywhere. Then came the clue. This mysterious ’gentleman’ who visited the Jones’ a couple of times a year, or so. I recall I might have mentioned him in my emails?
PRK: Ah...the man Terry mentioned. You are suggesting he was a ’mentor’, a ’guardian angel’? But why were the family so poor, he could have given them more money, saw to it the family lived better.
Sverre: Yes, the same man Terry mentioned. As to the money, they probably got a few quid when needed, but it couldn’t be obvious that they were living above Johnny’s means, the neighbors would instantly spot it. They would see to it Johnny got a reasonably good job when, as an alcoholic, he might have trouble getting one at all, they might have slipped a few quid into his bank-account so he would qualify for a morgage, he having drunk all his money up, that sort of thing, but not large sums of cash. Neither he or David were allowed to meet him, they had to go out and play. He spoke only to the mother, Johnny, Dave’s Dad, refused to speak to him so he made sure he only came when Johnny was out. My vague recall, and it is vague, says he was a ’military-type’. I think Terry at first thought he was an old army-chum of the family, the Burns family being mainly military, but this didn’t seem right when he got older and he began to think. The Burns’ were never anything big in the military, certainly not big-enough to warrant anybody regularly checking-up on them for old-times sake, there are thousands of ex-servicemen, for godssakes, it can’t be done for all of them, they surely haven’t the time, let alone the money involved! This guy kept coming after Terry left home, so he didn’t think it was him this guy was interested in.
PRK: Why didn’t Terry have a mentor, why wasn’t he chosen?
Sverre: Probably did, at first, then they saw Terry was sick, that he would not come up to a useable standard. He probably felt rejected because of this. His problem with Johnny, I don’t know. If my theory is correct, this stranger probably was the reason Johnny had black periods: It brought home to him he wasn’t the head of the family. He was on his ’uppers’ just after the war, had lost his theatre and his family and his money, and, an otherwise well-bred, intelligent honest and hard-working man, was a prime target to be approached by a ’scout’ for ’them’ and a deal was struck to take the mother as his wife. When Johnny he got a grip on his drinking -’they’ probably helped him dry out too- and began to think about this it began to get to him, he wasn’t actually the type of man who could ignore this, he had his pride, eventually he forcing a divorce so he wouldn’t have to live a lie. But he loved David very much, no doubt of that, so he probably is the father.
PRK: You’ve suggested the Burn’s family were psychic, that this could explain Bowie’s involvement in the occult. How exactly? And Ward would seem to be involved, too. It has been put forward over the years that he was deeply involved in black magic. Can you explain?
Sverre: The Burns Curse. I’m sure she was psychic, that Terry was psychic. Ward’s people, the Chaets, I believe that’s Hebrew for ’marsh-dwellers’, were probably bred from all the families, so even these other families must be producing the occasional psychic. But nowhere near enough, and mostly not good-enough, and they probably didn’t know how to train them properly, anyway. Maybe they needed to ’water-down’ the Burn’s genes to control the curse, there being too much inbreeding in the family, and, if David is not the result of direct breeding with one of the elite, bought Johnny to do it. These people are fully capable of thinking of, and doing, things like this. They think long-term, hundreds of years ahead. Very cold and calculating people.
PRK: ’The other families’, you’ve mentioned ’families’ before, what families are these?
Sverre: It’s starting to get complicated, Peter, lots to explain. This is where it could get messy, ok, we’ll be jumping all over the place. They are the main Jewish families who fled Palestine after the Cruxifixion, the Isaacs, the Jacobs, and as I now know, the Abrahams. I was aware of the possibility of a third family back in ’62, so it fits. These are the major families that have formed all of our history, descendants of the Gods. If you believe that sort of thing. I do, though not fanatically, as we must come from somewhere, and there must an explaination as to our differing so vastely from all other life on earth. Why do we have all this brainpower, far in excess of all else on Earth, why do we rule Earth, with this weak body? For we are weak in comparison to most other life on this planet. Theoretically, we should be extinct! The animals should have hunted us down and eaten all of us years ago! We’re here because we deliberately made ourselves this weak body, as it was the best allround solution that functioned in a variety of theatres, light, agile, dextrous and adaptable, eating anything, needing minimal energy to run on. Our weaknesses we compensated for by thinking our way past danger and problems, devising a communication system and technology to protect us, not ’jaws and claws’. But it was a precarious life, a short one, which must have caused us great problems as far as keeping ’The Force’ up, our ability to communicate with The Holy Grail. We’ll get into this stuff as we go along, Peter, I’ll tell you of the Grail later.
PRK: Ok. But my mind is spinning.
Sverre: Just yours? Erm...perhaps I ought to start at the beginning, it might help if you know where I come from, it might help you believe what I’m saying, to understand where I get it from and what it means. My mercenary friend, Jimmy, bought a mews flat in Adams Row, Mayfair, with money he earned killing two Germans, Peter, mein liebe; in Egypt, I believe: £20,000. A lot of money in those days, maybe 2 million pounds, today? The Jews gave him the contract, and the rifle. Talking of that...I’ve actually written to the Mossad and asked to see my files-
PRK: You’ve what!?
Sverre: Peter Rachman fought in the war with guys who formed the Mossad. They sometimes came to visit. I met a couple. One definately fought with him in the war, it was Rachman who put himself in the line of fire so this guy could escape the Germans and get to Israel. I think it was Menachem Begin.
PRK: What! Begin!?
Sverre: Looked fairly similar. I was told his name, but it’s 43 years ago, ok? I recall Mandy and me had a bet on as to who first got him to laugh, he was a sour sod! Too much war. But he perked-up towards the end of his stay, his English had improved, too. He could laugh, but it hurt him. “Life is not a joke.” Peter survived his time in a concentration camp by the skin of his teeth and came to England, he had family friends here and spoke fluent English from birth. I liked Peter Rachman a lot, he was a nice man. When he saw Ward was serious, that this was a genuine medical-research project and not porno, he waived the fee Ward was paying for Mandy. The other guy I met is still alive, assuming it was actually him, that is, I could be wrong. Saw him on the TV the other day! I know I’m on their files, Peter. Told them ’I am in the files, I was there, so they can’t be secret, just want to refresh my memory and get it right’. Well, they can only but not reply, mmm?
PRK: You are very cheeky...or stupid.
Sverre: Take your pick. Back to my friend, Jimmy; This was maybe 1957? Those two German’s? Only a few months further into the year than that photo you have, actually. Jimmy was ten years older than me, ok? Met him via his cousin who I went to school with. David knew ’Billy’ too. He’s not in that photo. He fainted, y’know, Jimmy. He was laying in the sun -on a roof, I think- for several days, waiting, and ran out of water, so he was dehydrating. He recalled doing the job, but nothing more, and woke in the night to find some water beside him! He was probably lucky the security people didn’t find him, that, or the Israeli rifle had a longer range then they worked out. He had to return it to the cache they left it in, he hated to do it, but thankfully the Mossad had somebody looking after his back to see that he did return it, hence that water. A milestone photo, Peter, I began with the Doctors in ’58 and I was to lose my innocence in that occult ritual in a mere 2 years. Jimmy’s new neighbor was our top orthopedic-surgeon (forget his name, we always called him ’Doc’). He had a Harley Street practice and, like the others, taught med-students in his spare time. He suddenly needed a ’model’ to use, the boy he had having moved, and my mum said ’yes’ to him using me. We used to have ’elevenses’ (coffee-break) with the other doctors, and went to lunch together. Thus I met Steven Ward, who wasn’t actually a doctor, officially, at least (long story, but he was actually the finest doctor I ever met, a genius). Ward wasn’t actually involved in our work, though he sometimes looked-in, interested. It was merely over tea, a chance remark, that lead us to hypnotism, me being asked to be the guinea-pig, as Jimmy didn’t dare, too many secrets and devils in his head. These were the best guys in Britain and they couldn’t hypnotise me, so they were annoyed. Millar and Asher were their names. Ward smiled at them and asked me if he could try. Very embarressed, the professors were forced to ask Ward to do the experiment for them, and as it progessed over the months he became an integal part of the secret research we were slowly getting into. But I didn’t know Ward at this time, I only met him with the other doctors there. One day my doctor had a real patient come to him in dire trouble, and I was taken to Ward’s surgury for tea and a chat during her visit, Ward having no patients just then, he was rarely overworked, though it did happen. Ward was amusing company, we had lots to talk about, we loved it, we liked each other, he had no family and was obviously missing somebody to care for, a son, and I became that son. My own father still thought he was in the military, ok? Ward got on well with my Mum, too, to the degree I wished they would marry. But she already was, to my Dad, who was working abroad by this time, but it was to turn out that Ward was probably impotant so no good to my Mum, who loved his company anyway. He was a really nice man. She used to visit him up in London, quiet often, meeting Mary Quant, for example, a good friend of Ward’s. He had once raced cars, and took me to Brands Hatch, the racing circuit and I met all the racing-drivers and got to sit in a few cars, too. Ward had been a fine racer, Stirling Moss once told me he sighed with relief when Ward decided he had to quit and think of a career, not being wealthy and being a mite too old, ”You would have never have heard of me, otherwise,” he said. ”Ward would have been the big star of the 50’s if he was just 5 years younger or had money behind him.”
PRK: Fascinating. How did you get involved in the occult? When did you find out Ward was?
Sverre: I’ve mentioned Tommy Cooper. They used to talk the black occult all the time, Tommy was a member of a secret group. He wanted Ward to join but Ward was a bit dubious of some of the people in the group, who seemingly wanted to cut corners and ’go for it’ unhindered, something Ward didn’t agree with. I’m not actually sure he was a full member, but he did help-out sometimes, when he perceived it nesseccary. He and Tommy used to sit in Ward’s flat and talk the occult for hours -oh, how I wish I could recall all of it, but I can’t, I probably wasn’t listening properly, thinking it childish rubbish! It started when Tommy heard that Ward and the other doctors were using me in experiments and Ward had regularly been hypnotising me for various things. Tommy demanded to ’use me’. Ward went as white as a sheet, but didn’t stop him, he was frightened of Tommy Cooper. After asking me nicely, Tommy was given permission by me.
PRK: You could have said no? Why did you do it?
Sverre: Probably out of interest. It was nothing I hadn’t done before, per se, so why not? You must realise that I’d been put through the mill in a big way by Ward and the other doctors, and wasn’t fazed by much anymore. An example: the students -a suprising number were Irish girls- used to strap you down and put your legs up in stirrups (all women have been here) pulling on a rubber-gloove that reached their elbows, then, as they dunked it in a huge vat of vasaline, quip, “Now then, time to find out who’s going to win the sweepstakes today!” And plunge it in. Then out would come the tape-measure to see who had won.
PRK: Er... Oh, my goodness!
Sverre: I said more than ’Oh, my goodness’, Peter! And then they took out that thing they use on women, to er... ’expand them’. I thought to myself, ’But I’m not a woman...’
PRK: Oh no!
Sverre: Oh yes, Peter! I had to wear a nappy and live on Bovril for a week afterwards! I was close to getting a ’raunchy rep’ with the guys! I also jumped into a pool with some nice leaches-
PRK: Leaches! Oh my god! What happened!
Sverre: They came up and said ’hallo’. They weren’t hungry that time. Pigs-blood for lunch, you see. They don’t actually like it that much, but needs must, we can’t always eat caviar. Lots of experiments showed they actually prefer human blood. They can smell you when you’re still only halfway down the corridor, yet the doctors couldn’t find any nostrils. It turned out their entire body is a nostril! No apparent brain either, but they seem hellish intelligent. Fantastic creatures. They practically thank you after a nice lunch. It was physically and mentally very tough stuff, but I had to admit it was more interesting than playing conkers with my mates. And they fed you well, the best restaurants in town. I’m telling you this so you see that I wasn’t a ’normal’ boy. I had to act one at home and at school, but I was rapidly getting tough inside. Back to the occult. Eventually, Tommy Cooper proclaimed me ’suitable’. Going down to level-4 takes training, not only for the operator but for the subject, too, you can severely hurt people doing it too fast. ”You don’t bash people over the head with a sledgehammer”, said Ward. This training took a month or two, even with me.
PRK: What do you mean by ’level-4’?
Sverre: What you know of as hypnotism is merely ’level one’, Peter. For those with ’the knowledge’ there are 11 more.
PRK: Eleven! That makes twelve in all, how deep is THAT!!?? It’s not possible, surely!
Sverre: It’s more; each level is a ’bit more’ each time, so it’s anywhere from 15 times to 20 times deeper than level 1.
PRK: Good grief! What’s down there, for goodnessakes!
Sverre: ’The Root-Codes’. In computer-talk -and we have designed our computers as close as we can get to a real brain with the crude electrical-mechanical system at our disposal- I think, I don’t actually know but have worked it out based on pure logic knowing what I do know, that it’s possible to change our DNA-codes at level-12. If you know the right codes, that is, the ’root-codes’. You need these codes to go in and write professional programs for a computer, or alter something. You have to pay for that. Why Bill Gates is rich.
PRK: ( a short silence) Er...what does that mean, exactly? Can we...is what we see in ’Harry Potter’ and ’Star Wars’ actually feasable? Can we...change shape, become something else...or...something?
Sverre: Got you interested, have I? I don’t know this for fact, but I suspect something like that. But there were only 2 people in the world -as far as I am aware- that could go to level-12. They had literally driven people insane and even killed a few, training to do it. The real problem was that their, let’s say ’knowledge of spells’, was limited. All those books burned in Eygpt and during the Dark Ages were a deliberate attempt to hamper the Chaets, to reduce their knowledge of the spells, to drive them out from hiding to protect ’the knowledge’ from destruction, so they could be captured and used. They kept a cool head and didn’t. But this ment they had to rely on memory, which wasn’t good enough. But there must be copies somewhere. I think I know who the Grand Master was, I met him a few times, without his hooded-cape. If it was him, he was a very brave and resourcefull man, he was playing the game of a double-agent, probably trying to find those copies of the spells. Something tells me the other level-12 man ’committed suicide’ in 1969. There’s nobody who can do real magic today, a la Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings. I doubt, anyway, that we can suddenly change into a...a lizard, for example...we are made-up of a certain number of cells, lizards have fewer cells, being smaller, so we would have to shed cells, cells that would have to die etc., and I don’t see this being feasable, but I do think they can alter the male sperm, to slowly produce something else, something slightly different each time. I think it’s how we first evolved. I think I might have been used in such rituals.
Sverre: I’ve mentioned the first ritual, the one Tommy Cooper organised. I was lightly hypnotised, as were the girls-
PRK: How do you know that? How can you be certain what was going on?
Sverre: I met the mother of one of the girls 3 years later. I was helping Mary Quant make some sexy underpants (later modelled by Sean Connery, actually, just back from the Caribbean filming Dr. No. I had the same arse as him, wasn’t that fun to know?) and spending a night or two with her mentor -Vivian Westwood is the name on my tongue, but it’s a bit fuzzy today as I only knew her for a couple of days- she getting the hots over my naked body when over giving Mary some advise- and I was spotted and recognised by this woman in Vivian’s shop, and who quickly realised I was the hot guy she had been hearing about. She had a love-nest in London, together with some girlfriends, I got my cocoa there for a couple of months, ok?
PRK: Phew! You had fun!
Sverre: It’s work. You just do it. Oh, you mean the women! I was privilaged, I only knew really nice, intelligent, sexy women. Even the older ones were still in fine shape, bodywise. If only all teen-boys had been so lucky as me. As far as the modelling goes, it ain’t all glamour but hard work; Jean Shrimpton, who cost five-hundred pounds a day at that time -and a day was twenty-four hours if needs be- the highest-paid model in the world, counted herself lucky if she could find a loo to change in, otherwise it’s change where you are, sod who’s watching, you’re costing money and the clock is ticking. Being very minimal, Mary had to make the pants on me, ok? She had some Japanese businessmen coming 4 days later and a huge contract was possibly at stake, so you strip naked and let them start pinning, trying to ignore the girls winking at you, slipping their phone number into your trouser-pocket. ok, sometimes you winked back... It happened Roger Moore grabbed me by the ear and growled at me. He’d been there, too, and kept a wary eye on me.
PRK: You knew Roger, too! You knew a lot of famous people.
Sverre: The business is like that. You MUST be known, and STAY known, hence all those parties they go to, those premiers, those chatshows etc. You must keep people talking about you all the time, you’ll get forgotten in the rush and miss a lot of work, otherwise. In actual fact I’ve known Roger since 1952. He was still in the army, just out of Sandhurst. He was Jimmy’s commanding-officer.
Sverre: Anyway, to get back to this woman, the mother. Even the Chaets were into arranged marriages and this woman’s husband was gay, so she had fun on her own when she could. I learned a lot from her and her friends. They knew I wasn’t a gossip and would keep it to myself-
PRK: But not now, though.
Sverre: It is 43 or so years ago...and I am trying to avoid giving them away. There are things I’m not going to tell you, Peter, even in confidance. It is knowledge that could kill you, ok?
PRK: Why are you still alive then?
Sverre: I’ve wondered that, too, I would have killed me years ago! I think I know why I’ve been left alone, but I’m not going to talk about that. Otherwise, ’they’, we are talking ’the Dark Side’ here, know I have evidence that would possibly crush them, even today. Certainly cause great problems for them. Not even ’Teflon Tony’ could spin his way out of this one, believe me, Peter, the names ’Ward and Profumo’ still causes certain people to sweat profusely.
PRK: What am I getting into here? This is deeper than Bowie singing mumbo-jumbo and dancing naked in the moonlight, isn’t it?
Sverre: Pure evil. You are not involved, Peter, I’m deliberately trying not to get you in that deep. But I must lead you down this path so you understand how I know what I know and thus my reasoning as to Bowie’s involvement in the occult. I was trying not to go there, but it isn’t easy. But there’s a point that I’ll stop at.
Sverre: That ceremony was possible the first time in 500 years they had all the right pieces in the right place; 13 thirteen-year old virgins (all were also daughters to the group) and a ’suitable’ boy.
PRK: Why were you ’suitable?’
Sverre: Don’t know. But years later my father did our family-tree and succeeded in going back 2,300 years, to find we were directly-descended from Harold Fairhair, one of the greatest Vikings to ever have lived, 44 generations, I think, and that we were very much related to all the Royal Houses of Europe, especially the Windsors. Reading the Islandic Sagas (not easy, but Islandic is ’Old Norse’)my father found we might be directly descended from the Archangel Gabrial, one of the first Twelve Gods, and it might have been this Tommy saw, he saw I had their genes in me, though from way back, so was ’suitable’. There can be nothing else. Ward’s group revered life and never did abortions etc., so any ’accidents’ during these rituals would be raised as part of the family, so had to be ’ok’.
PRK: You are related to the Queen?
Sverre: It’s very distant, way back in the mists of time. But all Royalty interbred, as did all the nobility. They still do. Believe nothing else, I know this for fact, they breed themselves like horses, just as Tommy Cooper’s lot did. Er... I don’t like doing this, but I think I need to go down a certain road here. Let’s use Princess Anne as an example; I heard a lot about her, she had a list of suitable beau’s and her marriage to Mark Philips was an arranged marriage, everybody was talking about it at the time so it’s not just my theory, why they were never compatable. I really feel sorry for that lovely lass, she had no chance. She was probably only allowed to marry this Laurence chappie as she was too old to have anymore children by that time. I think so, anyway. Philips wasn’t really a suitable husband, as such, from a fairly obsure and poor family, on the fringes so to speak, but ’acceptable enough’ to be on her list, abeit at the bottom-
Sverre: Yes, list. This is what I’m trying to get into, it needs airing. I met many of the ladies-in-waiting from Buck House at Ward’s, they were always coming over for tea. They all had lists of men they were to choose from. Husband’s, that is. They were not allowed to marry anybody not on their list. They used to swap notes on various men, who was gay, who was into ’weird’ sex, who was a viscious bastard, who was utterly boring, etc., pulling rank on each other as to who had first try at who. And ’try out’ the guys they did-
PRK: Stop! This can’t be true!
Sverre: Sorry, very true. I sat listening to this. This was Anne’s problem, she didn’t want to marry anybody on her list, they were all twice her age and total idiots. She dutifully tried the lot -she was only 12 years old at this time, but very mature for her age, apparently, she even tried-out all her bodyguards and any man who came close enough- and was getting desperate, one of the reasons she was famous for her language and use of riding-crop on other than horses, and nobody really wanted to marry her anyway, nobody wanted to get that close to the Royals, it being dangerous: see what happened to Diana. Who I knew, by the way. All this view was aired by the girls way back in 1961 and ’62, so I know it to be true.
PRK: You knew Diana? When? You’ve not lived in England for 43 years, you said so.
Sverre: Her parents were great friends with Ward. I met Francis Spencer many times. Great lady.
PRK: She had a nasty reputation.
Sverre: She had a nasty kick. That’s where the reputation came from, a smear-campaign from Buckingham Palace. She got thrown out for kicking Prince Philip in the balls.
Sverre: You heard. Twice, I think, she managed to get him twice.
Sverre: He thought it one of the perks of the job to be able to shag the ladies-in-waiting. Francis Spencer was one who didn’t think that was a good idea. You sound shocked, Peter.
Sverre: He was lucky it was only a kick. One girl I knew and dated, Penny, tried to remove said balls with a blunt kitchen-knife but his security realised the screams were not of pleasure, but abject fear, and stopped her in the nick of time! Oh that she had succeeded, it would have changed the future for the better, no doubt of that. But that’s another story, one I can’t get into.
PRK: And this Penny, she also...?
Sverre: Was thrown out also. She was Ward’s best girl, his best girl-spy, I knew her well, she being tried-out for my girlfriend, as was Mariella Novotny, but they probably thought Penny wasn’t suitable, not the kind of girl needed, me not being up to her either, she was very lively and loud and people found her irritating, but to be truthful she was no worse than Mandy and her demenour didn’t bother me. We were great mates and ’made lots of noise together’, anyway, ahem. If you see the film Marilyn Monroe did with Larry Olivier in ’57, ’Gaslight’, you’ll briefly see a young Penny- she occasionally made some films, wanting to be an actresse. She knew Marilyn Monroe very well, they were great friends. I actually met and ’dated’ Marilyn in the late summer of ’61, probably just after meeting Mandy, when she was off in one of her ’huffs’ we had in the beginning.
PRK: You’re kidding me! You dated Marilyn Monroe! You were a boy!
Sverre: Yes, I was an old fourteen and a half, she just 35. I played rugby, Peter, I was a big strong boy...and had a growing reputation, recounted in gory-detail by a hot Penny, one night in Marilyn’s room, together with 2 bottles of rapidly evaporating wine! So, the next morning, a Saturday -Ward and I were going to Brands Hatch to see and drive David Piper’s new Ferrari- the girls came to visit. No cars that day! ’She shone with the serene-beauty of the misty light of the bogs, of peat and heather’. That’s what I thought when the door opened and our eyes met. My first thought. True. I’m told I said it out loud. I was in love so it squeeked! And Marilyn -we actually decided to call her ’Jenny Mortenson’, Marilyn thinking she might actually try to officially change her name to this, as ’this was her, her real self’- was rather taken by what she saw, too. She, er...made me hug her for a long time. She was drunk and her knees were wobbly, ok? I never wanted to let go. Marilyn without makeup, her hair in loose-platts, in cut-off jeans and a loose, semi-open blouse -no bra under- was incredably beautiful, even you would have been spellbound, Peter. That was one hellava woman, with an indescribable presence. The Marilyn you know from the screen was nothing as gorgeous and sexy as the real thing. I think Steven Ward, slightly shell-shocked, muttered something like, ’There’s going to be trouble...’ Leaving out bits; That same day I took her home to meet my mother, and a day or two later I took her to the cinema, then some chips and a pint down The Swan and Mitre, chatting to my gay-mates (I had to stand outside, too young!) then a slow walk home to bed. No, no such luck, she dossed-down with my mother! She helped me with my paper-round in the morning, huge smile all over her face, she loved living a normal, simple life. Boy, did Mike the Milkman do a double take! He got her autograph on his orderblock, then, flustered, nearly gave Mrs. Carmichael a double-cream Gold Top! Then we waited by the bus-stop, chatting, and she took the bus and train up to London. I was smuggled into her room that evening and Penny and me hid in the shower whilst the waiter delivered enough food to feed a regiment, Marilyn coyly saying she was ’a little peckish’! Then, cheeky little minx she was, she turned the shower on full and ran out, giggling madly...
PRK: You got soaked!
Sverre: As quick as whippets, both of us, but we had to strip and dry-off a bit, yes. Did you know she was freckled all over? Under her tan she still had the vestiges of childhood freckles. She was actually a redhead, hating being blond.
PRK: I don’t believe this, Marilyn! You lucky so-an-so. But, hey, I hate to drag this out, but was she...they said she had mental problems. Did you notice anything?
Sverre: She met Millar and Asher, they made damn sure of it! They, too, wanted to see if those rumours were true. Answer: She was probably the sanest person they ever met. Nothing wrong with her. They were amazed. And demanded that on her next trip she come and do some real tests for them. She laughed, and agreed. There’s a reason for those rumours, I know of it all, she told me of it. Not for these pages, I’m afraid, we’re losing the thread anyway. Let’s just say Penny and I talked of it and gave each other a long hug...as we wept. I don’t know what happened later, but Penny did, she was in Hollywood at the time. She left diaries on her untimely death in ’97, these were to be published by Martin Baker, but have been quashed by the Royals, and probably the CIA/FBI, too. Too many devils from the past, that cannot be made public. Penny took photos too, of me and Marilyn together. Love to see them and remember what might have been.
PRK: Might have been? What do you mean, you two might...?
Sverre: We actually did talk of it with my mother, who took to Marilyn like the daughter she never had. If I had been 16 years old the future might have been very different, Profumo might not have happened at all! Marilyn wasn’t going to renew her contract, in 2 years she was moving to France to work behind the scenes in film and stage, she had taught herself French already. She though we two might work well together as a writer-director team, both into the same thing, both having similar ideas...and as to the age difference... It never happened, ok?
Sverre: Anyway, we were talking about Diana, so I’d better finish that bit. I held Diana in my arms when she was born, helped breast-feed her and wash her and change her. Francis and Ward grinned at me as I did it, as did Tommy Cooper when he was there. He loved kids, jealous as hell watching me with Diana, wishing it was him. I suppose she was 9 months old the last I saw of her. She liked me. Need I say anything? I let her pee all over me, and smiled as she did it! (Mandy did that too, but in another context, ahem, splutter, splutter). It was during this time I was used in a couple more rituals with Ward’s people
PRK: The ’changing of sperm’ ritual, you mentioned? Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?
Sverre: Life itself is far-fetched. Only a fraction of your DNA decides if you are a man or a worm, Peter. This DNA must be in the first cell created after conception, probably brought there by the male sperm, female eggs are made in one batch? If it can be altered is something that can, and will, be discussed without ever coming to a conclusion, the only way to know is to do it. They are trying something similar today, but in a very crude fashion indeed. They’ll get there one day, be so sure.
PRK: This ceremony, these other rituals, what makes you think they were different to the first?
Sverre: I have vague recall the women were older, and only one or two of them. They were probably too old to be virgins and it wasn’t that long after the first ritual, the same year, the timing being wrong.
Sverre: According to Dan Brown’s book about the Grail that ritual can only be done at the Spring Equinox, 3rd week in March. This fits in with my memories, that first ceremony was about this time. These other times were wrong for that.
PRK: You mentioned Penny was a ’spy’, you’ve mentioned Mariella Novotny, a proven Red agent. Elaborate, please, spying on what? Ward was also said to be a Red spy, Keeler says so too.
Sverre: Rubbish. I suspect he was negotiating a deal with the Russians, via ’Bear’ Ivanov, for copies of the ledgers Rudolf Hess had with him when he flew to Britain in ’41 (?) We in his team of spies were told they were lists of all the communists in Britain, but in reality -it took me years to work this out- we were looking for the geneological-charts, the breeding-charts, which would indicate which family might be hiding The Holy Grail. It is logical that Ward would try to get the Reds to give him new copies, saving a lot of time and trouble and risk. I think I know what he offered in payment, and, though atomic stuff, wasn’t atomic secrets. I better not mention what it was, you all think I’m mad anyway!
PRK: No comment! OK, to be serious: You’ve mentioned the Grail many times now. This is myth.
Sverre: Ward and Cooper often talked of it, but at the time I wasn’t really listening. As you said, myth, a fairy-tale, I didn’t take seriously what I was hearing. But Ward’s people were looking for it, it was what our spying ultimately was about, though I didn’t know this at the time, unfortunately. An interesting aside is that there are 3 Grails.
Sverre: Yes. Ward and his people weren’t sure the other two ’were down here’. I presume he ment Earth. The other two were of lesser importance, per se, but they formed a team. I can’t recall the actual names they had, but I recall the nicknames they had, possibly for security-reasons: The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost.
PRK: What!? But that’s from the Bible!
Sverre: I can only repeat what I recall. The Grail we know is the Father. I wonder if they somehow match up with the elements, Earth, Water, and Air? The Chaets, Ward’s people, were bred to operate the Grail, which works via mind-control.
PRK: Mind-control? That’s myth, too, isn’t it?
Sverre: ’Hypnotism and level-12’, remember that, Peter? Same thing. Listen carefully, I have seen Ward control Christine Keeler, with my own eyes. She was the other side of the street, waiting for us, and she walked up to this guy and fondled his arse and balls, eying him up for all she could. His wife went bananas! He was with his wife and children. Then she got all flustered and red in the face, apologised for all she could, and ran over the street to us. Boy, did she lay into Ward! She realised what he had done and was not amused. She wasn’t like that at all, she was a rather prudish girl, not a slag or a whore, she was a very nice, moral girl who would never dream of doing something like that, even if he had been alone. This mind-control is limited, thought, Ward could ’reach out’ and hear things up to a couple of miles -he woke in a sweat once, when I was sleeping-over, and in a fuzzy, woke me and described an accident that had just occured in minute detail, an accident that was reported in the papers the following day, matching exactly his recall. It was a couple of miles away and impossible for him to have heard the crash with normal hearing- but he could only use his powers as long as the victim was in eyesight. He couldn’t ’listen’ to everybody, either, but seemingly only other people who’s brains ’leaked’ enough for him to read them. Ward was a funny chap sometimes, he had a weird sense of humour, often doing absolutely mad things on the spur of the moment, but I think he was inadvertantly reacting to something in his head. Believe me, I know.
PRK: This sounds fun. How do you know?
Sverre: Remember those ladies-in-waiting?
Sverre: In February, ’61, the first week, they were visiting Ward on a Sunday evening, having been out for a dinner/dance with Christine, who had moved-in with Ward the day before. These were girls of about 14-16, by the way, new girls who had just replaced the ’old’ girls, Francis Spencer’s lot, all in their late 20’s and up to 40, or so. Charles had reached puberty, you see.
PRK: No, I don’t see...
Sverre: Er...let’s just say that Royals don’t, er...wank-off. Ok? Not thought suitable.
PRK: Er...goodness, what are you suggesting!
Sverre: Right first time. That’s what ladies-in-waiting are for, why Philip thought he could shag ’em anytime he wanted. Why Anne also tried her security, muscular marines the lot of them, all from good families that the Royals could control.
PRK: This is really too much to believe.
Sverre: I cannot prove anything. Believe me or not, you decide. But it is so, they told me, the girls. Anyway, the talk got into hypnosis, the girls not believing it worked, a load of nonsence, so Ward asked to use me for an experiment. Been there-seen it-done-it, so no big deal, go for it. So I was hypnotised, stripped naked (I was actually only wearing a dressing-gown, so it only took a second or two) and...abused. Then, with the lucky girl still ’training her wrist’, I was woken-up.
PRK: You mean they...
Sverre: They loved it, especially the girl with ’the wrist’! Never met her again, unfortunately, she later went to Oxford to study English, her father owned the Times, or some rag, but she needed a degree to get a job there. She still talked of me, though. I probably enjoyed it too but have no recall of it, except for all the stars in my head! But Christine Keeler and the head girl, she was about 21 years old for legal reasons, were not amused at Steven Ward. They would have stopped him if they knew what he intended, but it got out of hand too quick (sic) for them to react in time. He did other mad things like that, often not knowing why he did them afterwards. I wish I’d been awake! The girl on my left whispered to me she would like to strip naked too, me laying naked and very sweaty in her arms excited her, apparently. Her name was Camilla Shand, aka: Parker-Bowles. As a 14 year-old teen she was very sexy and we both missed something there. But their chaperone wasn’t called ’Hitler’ for nothing, despite her being very Jewish indeed! I know what Charles has been getting, I would have gladly been her tampon, too!
PRK: I’m sweating, phew! You knew Camilla Parker-Bowles, wow! But this was in ’61, they’re saying on the TV that they first met in ’70, how is this?
Sverre: I can only think the Palace is keeping quiet about underage-girls working and living at the Palace, questions might be asked they can’t answer. Camilla and Charles knew each other from late ’60, period. Logic says so too, all those families socialised with the Royals, the Royals don’t know anybody else! All those families were vying with each other, pushing forward their girls as suitable objects for an eventual marriage, it’s what they are there for if a foreign princess isn’t on the cards. Of course they knew each other, just like Charles knew Diana all her life. Why can’t people think, why don’t they see these lies? They probably knew each other in the Biblical-sense, too, even this early. Yes, I got to meet Camilla a few times, I liked her a lot, she’s not quiet what you read in the press, though 43 years is a long time. But do we really change that much? The girl I knew I liked and admired a lot, she was always more sensible and calmer than the others, a bit like me actually. We got on well. None of the other girls liked her, though.
Sverre: She had already inherited half a million pounds. She couldn’t touch the capital yet, but her allowence was far larger than theirs. She was wealthy. The other girls had to wait until their parents died before inheriting anything, years into the future, they hated her, descended from a ’Kings Whore’ as she was. They often brought that up too.
PRK: Tell me more of the Grail, this is something we’ve never heard of before. Is it involved in the occult in any way, that’s my main interest.
Sverre: Our whole world is the Grail, it is life itself. All the rubbish you’ve heard about it is camoflage, they found they couldn’t keep it secret, so they gradually made it into something else, to hide it, to make it myth. Think about it, of all myth’s The Grail is the most mythical of them all, like you said, nobody really believes there is such a thing, just as many don’t really believe King Arthur and Camelot existed. But they are the same thing.
PRK: The same? How?
Sverre: Steven Ward and his fellow occult members were the direct-descendants of Arthur and Camelot. Ward was directly-descended from Merlin the Magician himself. Tommy Cooper was descended from a family involved in internal and external security, a Gestapo, a KGB, a CIA, the Death’s Head SS, all rolled-up into one. That’s why he looked the way he did, ugly, as they had to breed with themselves, nobody wanting to have anything to do with them, resulting in terrific inbreeding. After Camelot they had to flee and hide very deep, that didn’t help either. They were hated. Nothing Tommy was proud of, but it wasn’t his fault.
PRK: And you expect me to believe this?
Sverre: I’ve no proof, even I was a trifle sceptical, but I saw and heard enough not to discount it. I was told what it was, the last time Ward’s group heard of it’s existence, and to crown it all...I was told where it was. But not by them, by somebody else. At the time, due to all the operational secrecy, I didn’t connect it with what Ward and his spy-team were doing so never got around to mentioning it, things got a bit hectic then too and we were all thinking of other things, anyway. I’m working-out how to get it, right now! I’m more likely to win the lottery than get at it, it’s in the most secure place imaginable. And I can’t work it when I get it, not being psychic, not being able to do mind-control. Maybe it would be so glad to see the sun and stars again it would talk to me? But at the time it was just an amusing story, an amusing aside, I didn’t know then that Ward’s spy-team were looking for it, we were only looking for these ledgers. Believe me, Peter, everything is about The Grail, it’s the cause of all the wars and killings in history.
PRK: Why look for it then, it sounds like ’Pandora’s box’.
Sverre: It depends on who’s using it, and for what. Even The Cross can be used as a weapon.
PRK: If we’ve been lied to, what exactly IS the Grail? Christ’s Blood, a Chalace, what?
Sverre: A black glass ball.
PRK: Is that all? A black glass ball?
Sverre: It’s about the size of a lawn-bowling ball, a mediaval cannonball. Southsayers in fairgrounds use a clear-glass version of it, not knowing it’s supposed to be black. The last time it appeared in public long-enough for the Chaets to get onto it was when Sir Francis Drake was playing bowls, waiting for the Spanish Armada to arrive at Plymouth Hoo. It was his favourite bowling-ball, you see, he used it only when he had a large wager at stake, he never lost a game when using it. It probably worked out the trajectories and stuff all by itself, no wonder it never missed! It was probably telling him how to beat the Armada between balls!
PRK: You must be kidding me.
Sverre: It’s what I was told once. Drake used to often paint it to look like a stone, or a metal cannonball to disguise it, but the paints in those days were crap and it fell off. It seems to be semi-translucent, it shimmers in the light, it shimmers in 3-D, like it was metalflake all the way through. I must say I was reminded of it when I saw 2001, and later 2010. The last words Bowman said, when he was going to land on the Obilisk, were, ”Good God, it’s full of stars!” The Grail sounds something like that.
PRK: This is fantastic, it can’t be for real! But what you say, the story you tell, sounds very plausable, very real. Amost true.
Sverre: Again, I don’t know, it’s what I was told. But the person who told me -and it wasn’t Ward- had no reason to make it up. I’ll try and explain quickly, you need to know this. Jesus used The Grail to do his miracles, he was one who nature turned-up occasionally, one who had more of ’The Force’ than usual, the psychic force that enabled people to do mind-control, he could use The Grail by himself. Not fully, probably, but they had to assemble a team of the others to do as much as he probably could. During evolution they were gradually losing their powers, it not being easy to maintain them, not helped by us ’folding-up’ our brain on the top of our head, to give a lighter, more agile, unit. At first, this didn’t matter, they were so powerful it made only a small difference, but life was tough on Earth and people died too early, etc., making it hard to keep the ’Force’ up, as you even need a lot of practice to do it, and learning the theory takes time. It got to the stage that only people with ’leaky’ brains could do mind-control, as we had created an electrical shield around the part of the brain used. Ward’s people were born psychic, born with leaky brains. Ward’s leak was thought to be his eye, he had a ’lazy’ eye, that protruded quiet markedly when he was ’controlling’ somebody, I recall seeing this several times I was doing something I’m not going to repeat here, so he was probably controlling me, just like that time with Keeler. So this means it can take generations of breeding before somebody with a leaky-brain turns up. You can’t control it, it happens by accident. Then they must be trained, and like an athlete, kept in training. Jesus screwed-up, letting the Romans know of The Grail, and they went for it with a vengeance, causing the Jews to flee to the winds. Jesus’ brother, Thomas, was said to have fled to India, fathering the Indian dynasties that followed. There are 4 main families involved here: The Isaacs, the Jacobs, the Abrahams, and the Ward people, the Chaet’s, who were all taken from these 3 families. They were probably kept in concentration-camps and bred like cattle, hence, when given the chance they fled...to Britain, where there was a strong Jewish presence -Jesus’ family owned the tin-mines in Cornwall, for example, and he actually visited Britain as a boy, you don’t read that in the bible!- to start the Arthurian Dynasty, to create their version of heaven, Camelot. I think the Isaacs family were the current custodians of the Grail, and when the Romans went for them they threw the Grail to the Abrahams, who fled, eventually, to Germany, leaving the Isaacs to lead-off the lions. Eventually, about seventeen-hundred years ago, the Isaac survivors arrived in Europe looking for the Abrahams, who had dissappeared. All the strife and wars we have had to endure afterwards has been caused by the various families looking for, or hiding, The Holy Grail. It was worth killing for. The Abrahams, now under another name and hiding their Jewishness, have been trying to breed people to use it ever since, without success, obviously, we would know it otherwise. They were also looking for the Chaet people. The Chaet’s, Arthur’s people, weren’t worried about the Grail, they thought the Romans had it and they could go to Rome sometime and take control of it again. They did, but it wasn’t there, so even they began looking. When Arthur and his Knights, all psychic -by the way, Ward and his people always talked of the knights ’around the table’, rather than ’the round table’, indicating they sat in seances using their mind-control to seek the Grail- being psychic, when they ’felt’ that the Grail was near, possibly even in England, they went on their Quest to find it. The Abrahams had heard about Arthur and the Stone, and Escalibar (the sword was never really explained to me, but is symbolic for something else, not actually being a sword. Could it be a magicians wand, a remote-control for the Grail?) realised that they must be the Chaet’s and amassed an army to quell them, to control them again. Arthur and the Chaets tried to fight them, but failed, fleeing into obsurity, into deep hiding. Eventually, they began to re-assemble, to breed again, trying to regain their power, to look for the Grail, which must still be in England. This is where I came in.
PRK: That’s quiet a story. There is no proof of this?
Sverre: Oh no, you must simply believe what I say. I only believe it because I knew these people and saw how dedicated they were. They lived for this and nothing else.
PRK: And all wars are power-struggles between the Isaacs and the Jacobs and the Abrahams, to control The Holy Grail?
PRK: Who are the good guys here?
Sverre: None. Whatever happens, whoever’s in charge, the common people, us, bred to be their servants, are the ones who get killed. Up until Crecy, that is, Crecy caused ripples we feel today. Right, as I said, this is a complicated business, difficult to explain easily. You are now hopefully becoming aware that the stakes are high here, life has no meaning to these people -your’s and mine, that is- we are mere pawns in a vaste game of chess. They are prepared to do whatever it takes to stay alive and on the top of the heap of life. What with the politics and the wars taking their eye off the ball they inadvertantly allowed a global population explosion. The common people are getting dangerous to these people, they are having trouble controlling us. We can rise and exterminate them anytime we want; we are many, they few; our offspring many, theirs few; we are breeding as fast as insects; they as slow as elephants. Worse; they have been resting on their laurels counting their money whilst we had to plan and execute all the work they wanted us to do, forming the tools and industry to do it; so we can make things, they nothing. Being forced to think on our feet we now have the brains, they none. All this means only one thing, something that frightens them; they need us, we as sure as hell don’t need them. So they control our economy, our only achilles-heel. They literally own the world, they have seen to it that we have to live in debt to the banks, they own our food, they own our homes, they own our jobs, they own us...with our own money! To keep this power in one place they only breed amongst themselves. I know, I never had a chance to marry one of the girls of nobility that I knew, they said so, interested though one or two of them were. This control is not so obvious, they cover it in a suger-coating called ’democracy’, making sure most of the people we can vote for are, in reality, theirs, they make sure names are changed to avoid us suspecting anything as most of the people ruling and running the country ’for us’, are, in fact, related to each other, hence those ledgers Ward and his team were looking for, they need to keep track of all the names and plan marriages. There was no way we could work-out who was guarding the Grail without those ledgers, and finding who had the ledgers wasn’t easy either, they themselves would be people on those lists! So Ward was physically inserting people into various homes, using sex-shows, organising orgies, shagging the occupants shitless, then, with them exhausted and asleep, they were sneaking around looking for clues. Very crude, very time-consuming, very risky, but what else was there? Rothschild, Rockefeller, Courtholds, Curzon, these are some of the top Jewish families, all are related to each other, and I say again that not all are bad people, making it harder to spot anything. Even the evil Bauer family, the most notorious masters of the black occult and human sacrifice in the world, are amongst us, but are called something else today. Some of the families mentioned must be genuine Bauers. Aware that they are few, decimated by the first and second world wars, they have continued to father illegitimate children to make up the numbers, to have ’money in the bank’, to guard against war and pestulance.
PRK: Again, heavy stuff. And you’ve no proof of all this?
Sverre: Some of it is being taked about in occult sites, I’m not alone in knowing things. But there is no definetive proof. I wouldn’t expect to find any either, these people are organised and run ’the Establishment’, the country, they are masters at hiding things, they are also the same people who we would ask to look for things, to investigate things! They are in total control. We are just puppets along for the ride. But we are becoming aware, we have communications undreamed of 100 years ago, and are slowly getting into contact with others who ’know’, and piecing it together. But there’s no way can we win, unless we strike lucky. As I’ve indicated, Ward had photos of their evil, he used these photos to blackmail several highly-placed people for information and protection...and I met a girl who had been a victim of those orgies. It was not her choice, the girls were ’initiated’ at about 9 years old, they were shagged by anybody who fancied it, including brothers and fathers etc., it was fun at first, a ’game’, but later they became rather traumatised by it, one reason a few of the upperclass girls are known to be a trifle fiesty, ask any psychiatrist and they’ll tell you it is a classic symptom of an abused child. Ward wanted her to join with me, be my partner-spy, using sex to open doors otherwise firmly closed, to look for those ledgers, but it was in the future, I needed further training, I needed to be trained to kill, for example.
PRK: Good god.
Sverre: For defence, emergancies, the ledgers would be guarded. You can’t hesitate, you must react. I knew some theory, I knew men who had killed with their bare hands, knives, machettes etc. Real rough stuff, but they refused to train me as it was illegal outside the forces and absolutely illegal to teach a minor still at school! My only real problem was that I was so young, I really needed to be older before I could be effective. But they apparently had nobody else. Finding somebody like me can’t be easy, let alone get somebody the right age. They had to go with what they had and that was me. But the girl and I did manage to do some brainstorming of great importance. Using sheer logic, combined with her personal knowledge, we found a theoretical location for the ledgers. It only took ten minutes!
PRK: Did you find them, see them?
Sverre: No, it never got that far. Looking back, we should have ’gone for it’ there and then, sod Ward and our ’Control’, but we were hampered by lack of cash. We had trouble moving about, being flexable. She was also hampered by the fact that she needed to finish her studies, that she had no money of her own, dependant on her allowence, a tiny one -I had more money! She could also be investigating herself, her own parents might be the biggest threat to us. Her grandfather had blackmailed his way into great wealth and titles, he had been a simple solicitor prior to getting his hands on some ’dirt’; but what was that dirt, and who were the people he was blackmailing? She could guess, but didn’t know for sure; but irrespective of this it had to be really something big...and dangerous.
PRK: Incredable stuff. You really were caught-up in a sea of evil here. Ok, let’s cool-it for while and get into something else, let’s get back to Bowie, can we? What you’ve told me so far is very vague. Ok, understandable, you’ve indicated that these people play for keeps and are security-conscious, the stakes being skyhigh. What other clues do you ’feel’?
Sverre: As said, nothing definite, but another ’sign’ I see is that David marries an American girl, seemingly lesbian? Ok, that’s no big deal, I was shagging lesbians, but this girl gets David the Green Card he needs to work unhindered in America, all the other stars needed to get permission every time they wanted to go there. It is seemingly this that helps David become really big. As I’ve indicated earlier, his music is very limited, he wasn’t a Beatle or a Stone, so theoretically he was only very small-fry and should have barely been noticed, let alone become a mega-star. The other main thing is that he then gets a residence permit for Switzerland, something that I’ve always thought to be very difficult to get, you practically had to marry a Swiss to get it. This ment he kept all his money, paying no tax. Everyone else paid tax somewhere, Elton John practically paid off the British War Debt to the Yanks all on his own! If he’d also moved to Switzerland he’d possibly be as rich as Bill Gates. It is this sort of thing ’they’ can help with, they don’t pay out lots of money, it’s too obvious, they just see too it their ’boys’ are healthy and reasonably educated and find ways of using what talents they have to earn money, and keep it. Nobody suspects anything. My problem is : who’s side is David on? I’m of the impression that it has to be ’the other side’, the ’Dark Side’, all this breeding of Boys from Brazil doesn’t seem to be quiet the thing Ward’s lot, the Chaets, were into, I think I would be aware of that if that was the case, after all, I was ’suitable’ and must be of interest to them, but they showed no obvious interest in using me, apart from a few rituals I was involved in. Better to have used me to breed with their daughters, the girls involved in that first ritual.
PRK: Maybe you did.
Sverre: No. I was later told that none of the girls got pregnant, that my informant was aware of, anyway. Too young, probably, my sperm wasn’t fully developed yet? Through the Harley Street doctors I worked with I learned a lot about medicine, but it’s a long time ago. Anyway, back to the tale. Other small clues, that might seemingly mean nothing to outsiders; David never had a part-time job when at school, like most of we others -I had two- yet he never seemed to suffer for it. Pocket-money was a privilage in those austere days, my brothers and I only got any if we’d earned it during that week, helping our mother clean the house, shopping, cooking and doing the weekly-wash, weeding the garden, etc, and it was only sixpence anyway! He never seemed stressed, either, at having to find a career after school, let alone seem stressed at having to find enough money to live on. Everybody else I knew went through hell trying to get money and a job, me included. But never David, laid-back David. I’ve tried to research David on the Net lately, and find he seemingly just drifted through life without any cares about money or his future. Half his luck! The only job he ever had, apart from the one for Vic -I can’t recall how he actually got that one- was fixed by Frampton, his possible mentor. David wasn’t to know he would make it big in showbiz, or any other biz for that matter, he wasn’t to know he would be a millionaire, but he gets married and ’spends a year in bed all day’, to quote something I’ve read. He had a wife and baby and wasn’t working his arse off all the hours of the day, as everybody else in that situation was doing!? I can’t recall the name of the road he lived in now (Westmoreland Avenue?) but I know where it is and it wasn’t a poor area, I would be glad, even today, to live there myself! Where did he get the money? Was he still working up in Tin Pan Alley? The wages there could not have been much, barely covering his trainfare, like me, he would have to work almost for free the first years, he was only rewriting bad song-texts, not important stage-scripts. If Angie wasn’t wealthy -no indication of this- I think that has to be suspicious. Somebody was looking-out for him is a conclusion we must bare in mind: He knew that the money would be there for him, irrespective, so he never worried about his future.
PRK: Yes, it sounds suspicious, all right, but it proves nothing, there might be something you don’t know.
Sverre: Admitted. An inheritance? Who from. Why him and not Terry. Another thing that must be born in mind, that’s just come to mind, is the girls, Johnny’s girls. They were thrown out of the house whilst the boys stayed. Very weird, very disturbing. The two children that were only his and not hers. I know Johnny regretted it, he would have liked all his family around him but couldn’t afford it, but Terry was allowed to stay, despite he getting on well with his auntie, living with her later. Why couldn’t he have gone there and the 2 girls kept at home? They obviously managed on the money they had, one more mouth to feed would be ok, many lived on less, believe me, I knew many families that really had tough-times, far tougher than the Jones’, but they managed without chucking their kids out. No, to my mind that is suspicious, it smacks of only boys counting, the Boys from Brazil syndrome.
PRK: David is known for his writing, his profound song-texts, did you ever talk writing song-texts with him? You were getting into the theatre as a writer, even thinking of working for Brian Jones (Rolling Stones). Did David know this? I’m asking because you’ve suggested his song-texts are important, the reason he’s being pushed by these people. You and David seem similar to each other. Very similar.
Sverre: I recall the time we met at Jimmy’s we talked of the theatre and writing. Jimmy and I used to write poetry with each other (it was mainly him, it took his mind off killing people) the guys from the Old Vic, Richard, Robert Hardy, Eric Porter, Alan Badel etc., who visited occasionally, reading it for us, trying not to grind their teeth! We used tickertape to write on (just like the old telegrams?) me buying several brass reels of old stock up in a flea-market in London. In fact, Steven Ward took the used reels for his film camera, they being a perfect fit! They were precision-made, far better than the cheap alloy-reels that came with the film, and being very heavy acted like big flywheels to steady the film. Using the tape we could swap things around a bit, mulling over sequences and wording, to then do a clean example. Quicker and cheaper.
PRK: Do you recall any of what you and David discussed?
Sverre: Not, it was just general talk. I was into doing LP’s (albums) more like musicals, written as one cohesive story, rather than a motly collection of stuff vaguelly related to each other, I pushed planning the whole stage-performance forward like a theatre production, every movement planned -Gary Glitter was doing this anyway- and I recall David was thinking the same thing, agreeing, but that’s really it.
PRK: Fascinating stuff. Something has occured to me, Owen Frampton often visited the theatres. Did Ward? Did they know each other?
Sverre: Often, Ward was a well-known figure, well-liked, he sometimes looked-over the injuries the dancers always had. He did meet Frampton, they did talk, they probably realised that they both ’had boys’, and were ’the same’, but if they knew this, and that they might be in opposing sides, as is my theory, I can’t say. I wasn’t thinking of such things in those days. We had a couple of ’ding-dongs’, Frampers and me, sitting at the table on stage, inbetween rehearsals. We got to talking, he sounding-out my involvement in the theatre, getting to know me again, we knowingly using this to help me train my diction. I think it started when he sat-in on a session with one of Britain’s best radio-actors, a horse-faced man who’s name escapes me, Frampton seeing me sweat with the effort, obviously trying my best, but needing more training. Reading is hard work, believe me, actors are very fit people. Bernard Miles thought it important I fully understand all aspects of the business in order to be able to write readable scripts -part of my work was to rewrite professionally-written scripts from quiet famous playwrights, scripts that the guys couldn’t read as they were ’Oxford Don Obtuse’! And it got so involved all sat and listened to us, many keenly into politics and various issues. I can’t really recall the actual subjects we discussed but I usually had to give up in defeat, my arguments suddenly running out! Well, I wasn’t doing too badly to get that far, I was only a boy, not a Don. Once, Alan Bennett, the guy who was in the famous ’Beyond The Fringe’ team, with Peter Cooke and Dudley Moore, both great friends of Ward’s, took my place ’when I went to the loo’ (my way of bowing-out in grace) another time, Mandy herself rubbed her hands together and took him on. Fur flew! GIRL POWER LIVES! She was cheered for a long time.
PRK: It sounds great fun, love to have been there. It wasn’t just boring rehearsals, then?
Sverre: Oh no, we had a great time. It was needed, you can get too uptight otherwise, a good laugh can release the tensions, sometimes we had to wait for something and it stopped people getting bored etc. One of the most impressive things I saw was when we got roadracer Jim Redman to do his Zulu War Dance for us. I knew his wife, Marlene, quiet well, she was involved with crisis-groups, child abuse, that sort of stuff, and was a frequent visitor at Ward’s. We eventually got a nervous Redman to strip to his underpants and do his party-piece. Normally, it would be at a party and everyone would be drunk, but he was interested in doing it in a real stage (his wife scorned him into doing it, saying making a fool of himself was easier than flinging his Honda through Creg n’Ba at 130mph!) He was brilliant, he was good, he was almost a real Zulu! He impressed a lot of people that day. Frampton was also at Ward’s home once or twice. If he knew what Ward and I were up to he possibly told David about it, he might have told David about my work at the theatre. David might even have been there once, at Ward’s home and at the theatre, too, my memory is very vague on this, but I seem to recall ’David’ being very interested in Ward’s art, spending time with him, discussing it. Johnny, David’s Dad, knew Ward well, Ward helped treat the St Barnardo kids with the worst traumas, he did this for free, always, as he worked for free with the Battle of Britain pilots at East Grinstead. We were often there, I helped arrange a Christmas show for them in 61. Everyone fronted up: Bernard Miles, Jimmy Edwards, Eric Sykes, Spike Milligan, Harry Secome, Terry Thomas, Jon and Bill Pertwee etc. Barbara Windsor stripped, I’m told (we young ones were shussed-out, damn!) Burton, Hardy, Michael Caine, Roger Moore, all were there. Leonard Cheshire’s kids, Dave Shannon’s kids, and I, with Michael Caine singing bass in the background, sang carols for them, we’d practiced down in the kitchen at St. Cecilia’s and in front of his patients. Magic. The media never mentioned this, or his work with abused women and children, again, all for free. To the media he was just a common pimp, a sex-pervert. Nothing of the sort, lies all of it.
PRK: These were the burned pilots?
Sverre: Yes. The worst ones, the ones they hid.
PRK: How was that.
Sverre: They were so badly burned they didn’t look human. They conditioned us with photos first, it getting worse as it went along, and with Cheshire’s daughter I had done some surgury at St. Bart’s hospital, on bodies, where they train students, so we were used to seeing a few things.
PRK: You did that! Good grief!
Sverre: One of the experiments we did for the doctors. I was thirteen, she was eleven. Mature girl for her age, she was used to helping with the patients, I had helped her wash the patients when they had died, and dress them in their natty-suits, how these thoughts had evolved with the doctors, she telling them she would be following her father’s footsteps and needed medical-training. Kids can cope with all sorts of horrific things, as long as there’s somebody there to explain what’s going on. It’s the best time to learn. Wouldn’t do it now though! But to get back to those RAF guys: despite being from a horror-movie the burned pilots were very human, great guys, I enjoyed being with them. Some of them were gay, you know. Brave bastards. What did get me going was that one of the pilots apologised for his appearance, hoping he hadn’t upset us too much. He was apologising to US!? I waited until out of sight and cried my eyes out. Ward never passed by without stopping-off for a chat. One of the guys could only communicate via tapping morse with his claw, ditto replies on what was left of one of his legs, but Ward talked to him via thought-transferance, he was psychic. Ward was the only person he had ’talked to’ for 20 years. He was a great jazz-fan, apparently. And Ward used to ’read’ poetry to him, in utter silence.
PRK: This is for real?
Sverre: Yes, believe it. Thought transfer. The other pilots told me what they had been reading and talking about, he used to tell them via morse, later. Er, where were we... Ah! Johnny Jones often visited Ward when he was up in London, he came to the theatre with me, people there vaguelly recalling him from his days as an impressario, he admitted his mistakes, his drunkeness, his love for the theatre.
PRK: How much did he lose?
Sverre: Can’t recall, but he had inherited a small fortune. Blew it on a woman he loved, she screwed him all the way to the bank and when the money was spent she left him...to ruin another guy, then dissappear into the stripclubs and obsurity. Serve her right. They told him he was a stupid sod, using his own money to run a theatre, nobody else was so stupid! I liked Haywood Jones, he deserved a better life.
PRK: Ok, what do we have... I see this: Bowie, though talented, isn’t THAT talented, certainly not enough to be as big as he is, he has been very carefully helped along his way, all his life, by a secret organisation who has clandestinely helped him in his career, steered him to meet ’the right people’, some of whom must be part of this organisation, who have seen to it he got ’the breaks’ he needed, was in the right place at the right time, have pushed his case for him, making him into a star. You have also seen, and mentioned here, several clues -admittedly vague, almost non-existent- that your background knowledge has revealed to you, things others would never spot. But, even assuming this is true: WHY, and what are they up to?
Sverre: Not easy to answer. I don’t know it all. Obviously, they suss-out what talents the various ’boys’ have, nurture them, help them up in their career, but only on the vague premise of ever being able to use them for something. But they are in place. As reserves in a football team, in case their own sons die or something. Many of them serve in the Forces etc., and occasionally are in the risk zone, only getting into safer office-work in Daddy’s company or a Ministery after their career is over, their medals earned. Note how many of the elite sons do military service. It’s to toughen them up, to continue the (sexual) bond between them, to teach them to kill without thought when needed, to be bloody-minded, to be loyal to ’the cause’. If something comes up and the team is short of numbers the ’reserves’ are there, hundreds of them, thousands, just as I was with Steven Ward when he needed me to help his friends, just as I was in place when the Chaet’s needed me, just as I was in place when the people controlling his espionage activities needed me. The only difference being that Ward didn’t have any children, but had found and befriended me, me coincidently being ’suitable’ anyway. The answer must be in Bowie’s talent, his music, his persona. These people have been at it for generations, but the system changes, is never static. In bygone days the pen was mighty, then came the theatre, radio and film, then TV. Who is it that is seen with Royalty, Presidents, Prime Ministers, and Bankers, getting prime-time on the best channels anytime they want, getting entire chatshows to themselves, and rarely singing a note? Pop-stars. Nowerdays, the most fated people are pop-stars. Celebrities.
PRK: You aren’t suggesting Geldorf, Sting, Bono and their ilk are all Boys from Brazil?
Sverre: No, I don’t know that. I hope not. But the possiblity is there. I envy Sting to distraction, I see in him myself if I’d had a few breaks and enough musical-talent to hack it, he is what I would like to be. Mix in some of an extraordinarily talented man, Anthony Newly, and I would be perfection!
PRK: Sounds great, sounds as though the world missed something there! Why?
Sverre: Short and sharp: Profumo. The shit hit the fan. I had moved abroad with my family by the time it really got going in the press, and trials were being bandied about. This is what I don’t want to get into.
PRK: Interesting stuff, though. How does Profumo come into this?
Sverre: I suspect he was merely a smokescreen, and used to expose an otherwise hidden Steven Ward. He probably wasn’t lying to Parliament about him and Keeler, but lied to cover-up an ongoing intelligence operation. He must have known of it, been part of it. They got onto us, though I’m not sure they knew we were investigating them, it was something else that alerted them. Because they knew we had evidence they couldn’t kill us outright-
PRK: Who are ’they’, can you tell me?
Sverre: The people holding The Grail, the Abrahams: The Royals.
PRK: The Royals are Jewish!?
Sverre: Yes. That’s why they don’t allow Jews in their family, they would soon see that the Royals are still into various Jewish things and become suspicious.
PRK: What alerted them?
Sverre: No comment. Other than I was involved.
PRK: Ok, why couldn’t they kill you?
Sverre: We had documented evidence of something. Dusty Springfield was keeping it in a bank in the USA. No further comment.
PRK: Dusty? You knew her too?
Sverre: I’m ’The Son of a Preacherman’.
PRK: Really!? But you’d left England by the time that was a hit, how do you know?
Sverre: It’s my name. I met her at Alma Cogan’s, it was she who invited me to Gateways, but she had a last minute engagement and couldn’t come, me meeting Alma there instead. It made no difference, they were good friends and Dusty knew Alma needed help, not minding me trying. Alma was severely gang-raped as a teen, just after the war, ok? She wasn’t lesbian, but was frightened by men and had no choice but to use girls instead. Then something we hadn’t reckoned on happened and the shit hit the fan at full rpm. No further comment.
PRK: Ok, you seem adamant not to get into that area, I must respect that. To get onto something else: I recall you mentioned in one of your emails that Hitler was also a ’Boy from Brazil’, or thought to be so. My reaction to this is that means he was -as rumours admittedly say- part Jew. But the Holocaust? Why would a Jew kill a Jew?
Sverre: You’re not thinking, Peter, THEY ARE ALL JEWS! They have been killing each other for 2,000 years, why stop now! They were probably getting rid of unnesseccary baggage, a family they didn’t want to rise and threaten them! Shall I explain to you why the Great War 1914-18 took place? It was the usual way for the established families -who owned all the material and weapons factories that would reap huge profits from war-orders- to extorting lots of lovely money from stupid masses by appealing to patriotism rather than openly tax them, something that would raise howls of rage. Remember, it was never the elite who got killed -usually- so it was an ideal way to do it. But this time it was more than that, this time it got nasty. I have to explain something: Through my father I knew the Kings of Norway and Denmark, Ollie and Fred. They used to come and visit us in London. Ok, not so much Fred, I met him only a few times. Nice bloke, he liked NSU’s too. They told me that the Royals in England can’t be procecuted, some treaty from 1775, Charles the Second, it was a demand he had to come back and rule us again. Why did they do that? We could have had a working, democratic Republic instead! They are above British Law. But what they haven’t told us is that they are accountable to a ’Council of Kings’, all the Royal Houses in Europe. This council has been called 4 times, the last time to try Kaiser Bill.
PRK: Ah... Is this why he signed an armistice?
Sverre: Yes. It was that or his and his families lives. It helped not to flee, they would be hunted down and executed on the spot. Neither could they refuse to sit in judgement, an automatic death-sentence would be put in force. Mark that this council did not sit until the Americans were in the War and it obvious it was only a matter of time before Germany fell, mark that the Russian Revolution was under way, mark that they ledgers I’ve mentioned were kept secure in St. Peterburg and they probably wanted to turn troops on Russia to secure those ledgers before the masses got their dirty little hands on the truth, but didn’t make it. There’s a reason for the communist aggression, they’ve read the ledgers, they know the score, they know the prize, they want it. It’s also why they could recruit agents from our upperclasses, they are the ones in the ledgers! The Kaiser wasn’t found guilty of waging war on Britain, but involving innocent Europe in the conflict. He apparently had a genuine case against Britain. In case you didn’t know, Queen Victoria hated her son, George (?) he was an idiot who refused to educate himself, ’as he was to be King, and didn’t need it’. He also barely spoke English, only speaking German -it was the official language of The Royals until after the war- and he despised England and the English! Kaiser Bill not only loved England and the English, and the way of life there, he also spoke fluent English without a German accent. He and Victoria liked each other a lot, she wishing he was her son, not that other twit, and it was said she gave him the British Throne on her deathbed. He was there, beside her, her son wasn’t, he was out hunting or something important. There may have been a contract drawn-up. But George and his cronies found out and put a stop to it, their livelihoods were at stake, after all. That it cost 15 million lives become them not one jot, it wasn’t their lives, after all, only mere workers? Only this time, like Crecy, they got their arses kicked very badly. Crecy was one thing, only one nation’s elite really suffered, but WWI almost decimated them completely. They must have been forced to use all the ’Boys from Brazil’ at their command after WWI, those that survived, that is. This is possibly why we workers managed to gain some democracy, to actually demand and get enough wages to actually live on, we found a gap to pour though, a gap they didn’t have the manpower to block. This must have shocked them rigid, they were losing control!
PRK: And the guys who owned the industries made a killing, so to speak. A bonus. But Wilhelm was just as guilty.
Sverre: Oh yes, but he wasn’t to know the effect of the new machineguns and barbed-wire. Nobody knew that. I wonder what would have happened if he did, would he have gone on regardless, or tried to find another way? We’ll never know. Once commited he couldn’t back down. There were always secret discussions as to getting Britain to back down, but they refused.
PRK: You said there were other times the council sat, what were these?
Sverre: Can’t recall, not sure they told me, but I do recall it was always the Royal House of Windsor causing the problems. And we are talking real problems here, very serious stuff, stuff that threatened all the Royal Houses.
PRK: The Royals were the only ones causing major trouble? What else were they up to, was Elizabeth ever called to account?
Sverre: No, not as such, not called to trial, is my guess, but the Council might have rapped her knuckles over the Profumo Scandal.
PRK: She was involved in that?
Sverre: Oops...let that one slip! Just look at all Europe’s Royal Houses at this time and you see they had no power anymore, Britain had grown too strong. They are, in principle, unassailable now, accountable to nobody. Ollie and Fred may have brought it up sometime, though, they weren’t frightened by the Royals. Wary, yes, but they were honest and brave men of integrity. Let’s leave it at that?
PRK: You said a while back that Ward was working for somebody, running a spy-team for them, that he was working for 2 masters, the other the Chaets. Can you say whom?
Sverre: Ok, Can’t see why not. Roger Hollis, the M.I.5 boss (later on in the 60’s) and Lord Marks, the guy who owned the store? He turned out to be the Head of British Intelligence during the war, the guy who sent over all those agents for your Gestapo to torture.
PRK: I love your British humour. You met them?
Sverre: It was Marks who vetted me. Possibly late winter of ’60, Christine wasn’t living there. He’d never run an agent so young before, so he needed to see what it was Ward saw in me. But he saw it was long-term and I could be trained during that time, Ward was probably thinking far ahead, as to the day he retired. He was nearly a millionaire when he died -he and Peter Rachman had a competition going between them as to who would be a millionaire first, and Rachman won! Ward was planning on moving to the States to paint and race cars. He already had his Green Card, so going to jail for a year ment nothing to him. No need to kill himself.
PRK: He was murdered.
Sverre: Either that or it was the price for my life. I’d sooner he didn’t pay it, I could have sought protection with my mercenary mates in Brussels.
PRK: Ok, where are we. Bowie is being set up for something. What?
Sverre: Ah, fantacy at it’s wildest coming up, pure madness! Open your mind, let it plunge into space, let it begin ’The Odessey’! Sorry, getting worked-up there. I don’t know the answer, as said previously it might be that he can never be used for anything, but he’s in place, that’s the important thing, and in the public eye. If he is involved in the manner I’ve indicated it could be something like this: David Bowie has a fantastic reputation and persona, people look up to him, listen to him. A major catastrophy, a time where sanity must prevail, great changes made, tough decisions, the usual dithering by incompetant politicians wallowing in the mud of despair...a major play by the Royals personally, Charles himself, to take charge or something... What would you do if these pop-stars and celebrities were to make a plea, come up with apparently viable answers. Who would you follow?
PRK: I have no answer.
Sverre: It’s a long-shot, I admit, but these people work that way, they’ve all to gain and nothing to lose by it. It matters not that it’s their own people who bite the dust -Charles etc.- what matters is that it’s one of their own who slides into place. To us mortals it looks like a cleansweep and somebody new, somebody vibrant, has taken the reins, bearing the promise of a glowing new dawn along with them, but in reality...
PRK: Same shit.
Sverre: We talk same talk, Peter. What worries me is this; global warming and overpopulation. These are the two main problems.
Sverre: Not a problem if the population was suddenly cut by half. Our time is running out, however you look at it. Something is going to happen sooner rather than later, as, if nothing else, our Earth cannot support our current population for too long, too many of our resources are finite and are being rapidly used up. ’They’ must be getting very nervous, hence Irak, hence other ’signs’.
PRK: ’Hence Irak’?
Sverre: It’s not the oil, as many say, but the risk of somebody hitting ’them’ with WMD. They are trying to lessen the risk of being hit by WMD themselves, the day they start to ’cull’ the Earth’s population. And that day must be close. What we see is only the start, in my opinion, they will carry-on this ’war against terrorism’ for some time, but only against countries having, or is suspected of having, WMD, slowly reducing the ’fall-out’ they would have to accept. Israel must be making them nervous, the Jewish lobby in the States is hugely powerful and they don’t control Israel. I suspect ’somebody’ is engineering another ’6-day war’...with other victors, this time.
PRK: You’re making me nervous, Sverre.
Sverre: Join the queue. Remember Tianamine Square in China? There was a lot of play on the security cameras around the square, ’spying’ on an oppressed people. People were insensed, muttering things about George Orwells 1884. Today, London has the most CCTV’s per square mile than any other city in the world, you cannot hide anywhere. And nobody has ever reacted. First came CCTV’s for companies ’security’, then came the ’fight on crime’. Add the TV intervuing people on the streets, carefully showing mainly people who are positive about it, ditto the papers, and nobody is reacting. Look at crime today, it’s at catastrophic levels, despite all the ’exhaustive’ work the police have been doing. Drugs are rife, drink is rife, violence is rife, and they legalise ’soft-drugs’ and are talking of 24 hour-drinking! ’They’ are deliberately creating an atmosphere where the public will demand drastic action, and, when those drakonian laws and methods are in place nobody can complain about it, for they demanded it! The same things can be said for other places too, the drugs culture, for example, being secretly funded by governments who officially, and very publically, are supposed to be fighting it.
PRK: What’s the purpose of this?
Sverre: To put in place a system to control the people better, and in England, to pave the way to Royal Rule again, perhaps.
PRK: A dictatorship.
Sverre: Yes. Ready for the day the cull begins. Which means it must be near. In our lifetime. I know this sounds mad, but I can’t ignore the ’feeling’ that I’m right. All I ask of people is to keep an open mind, as well as their eyes. Who gave these people the right to do this, who gave them the right to chose who lives...and who becomes a slave? For those who survive will be slaves. I think all of ’them’ will suddenly pull-back to the U.S.A, as it’s an isolated continent with everything they need there, a complete industrial and farming eco-system, and systematically ’cull’ the world, to then use what common people who survive to repopulate and farm the Earth for them. In a controlled manner. I imagine they’ll be doing this in hope they’ve bought enough time to find a way to work the Grail, or make a new one they can work. So they’ll want to save as much of our industry as they can.
PRK: You paint a horrible picture. But could we make a new Grail?
Sverre: I’ve read that scientists are already discussing leaving ’solid-state’ electronics for ’fluid-state’ electronics. Heat is the limiting-factor today, fluid’s would cope better and theoretically be so fast it would take your breath away. To cut a long story short; it’s thought possible to make a computer, with the collective power of all the computers in the world put together, out of a cup of water.
Sverre: We are 98% pure water, ourselves, Peter, including our brains. It works, you might have noticed? And why not air as well? Recognise where we are? Earth, water, and air, the 3 elements, possibly the basis for the 3 Holy Grails? We’re at the Earth-stage just now, the Stone Age. The scientists think life arrived on Earth as space dust, neurons and stuff, met ice or fluid water, causing a chemical reaction, to begin life. But these neurons weren’t inanimate, they were alive...with knowledge.
Sverre: By being charged with ’knowledge from wherever they came from, an exploding planet, for example, if the seas or a lake there were a computer, the water would be vapourised during the explosion and the elements blown out into space. On their own, each neuron is nothing to worry about, merely electrically-charged, but sparked-off by water and joining with others they eventually formed our seas, to then create life out of the ’soup’, out of themselves. I would add, and this is my opinion, not one I’ve heard voiced, this global neuron-network then created a method of intelligence that could explore the Earth unhindered, in order to experiment further: the 3 Grails. Man the result of that experimentation. Hence, the Grail is God. Ward, however, often talked of us arriving here as brains, floating about like jellyfish in a nutrious-fluid inside a spaceship. His doctor’s-mind told him this was the best way to survive millions of years in space, our bodies being the weak-link. We now know that bit as fact! Was it a good guess...or did he actually KNOW? It might not have been simple neutrons that splashed-down here and formed life on Earth but this initial formation might have occured on a ’lifeboat’, on the way. I think they are trying to make a new Grail, one they can talk to via a common computer. Bit like using the flag-system from the navy-days, but that worked quiet well, didn’t it?
PRK: It’s mindboggling. I have to admit I have trouble soaking this up. Real heavy stuff. It’s far more than I though this ’brainstorming’ would give. Makes David Bowie look very small and insignificant, doesn’t it.
Sverre: Each of those original neurons was insignificant, Peter. Many flew past Earth, into deep space, lost forever, but those few who fell here and united...
PRK: I think we’ve come as far as we are going to get following this thread, vague though it is. But as you say, it will be vague unless we strike lucky and stubble on something ’in clear’. You must be the closest we’ve come to doing that, Sverre, I am indeed suprised they left you alive.
Sverre: They couldn’t have known how much I knew about this, it was all scattered about in my head anyway, I wasn’t thinking along these lines 43 years ago. As I’ve said, I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time -actually, I wasn’t, I’d do it again, unhesitatingly, but succeed this time- and threatened to expose them. But in another context, not this one. The more I think of it the more convinced that they never fully realised we were investigating them, or what that investigation was about, other than simple blackmail. For Ward was blackmailing people, including the Royals, I think. He possibly had photos that would crush them, even today.
PRK: But now they will know.
Sverre: It’s too late, I’ve left documents, remember? All over the world, too. No records kept, no obvious connections. You won’t have to wait until 2046 to find out the secrets of a ’common pimp’, Dr. Steven Ward.
Oh, that was pretty heavy! I recognise a lot of what the guy's saying but the problem is, the names he mentions would never in a million years admit to even meeting Bowie. He has that much status and influence, these people never know when they might need him, or meet him.
Before we left Edinburgh, I went to see a doctor and to keep Izzy informed and of how things work in Edinburgh, I asked her to come along and i had this little chat with this woman.
When I came out and I mentioned this to Izzy as soon as we got out the building, I was sure that I'd been hypnotised without me even being aware of it, so I think these things do happen.
Ah bit Rosie hen, that's cos ah micht be daft, bit ah'm no stupid!! Ah ken when people are uptae sumthin an' when ah've been in talkin' tae a doctor and ah wis awright, then ah comes oot and ah'm jist aboot fallin' asleep oan mah feet an' can hardly walk straight (waeoot ra bevvy, btw), then ah ken they've bin tryin' tae mess wae ma heid.
If you get tired reading it all, basically, Bowie could be a chosen child, linked to the grail line, who potentially could one day be called upon to rule the world, if he can work the Grail, which is a black snow globe.
My husband used to be into this sort of The Queen is a reptile/conspiracy-theory stuff. He said that the Chosen children were "Indigo children." Fortean Times magazine is a good, well-written and sceptical compendium of such ideas.
Considering the state the world is in these days, handing it over to Mr. Bowie, the Freemasons, the Illuminati or whoever doesn't sound half bad.
Were you around when the psycho looked at Mars and decided he'd discovered a UFO? It was hilarious... his 'UFO' was the same size as Mars, the same colour and in the same place - so the fruitbat declared this to be a UFO in a geostationary orbit in front of Mars. Amazing.
It wasn't long after that that he progressed to spending the child benefit on getting magazine ads tatooed onto his arm, enlisting known child sex perverts to act as his kid's godfather and - worse - allowing 'accidents' to happen around the kid.
LOL. Nibbler doesn't remember that one, but on the astronomic front Nibbler remembers him asserting that there was an invisible second moon half-way between Earth and the moon. Of course its existence was deliberately being kept a secret because we're all out to get him.
A good friend of mine who knows about these things but who does not have an active account here asked me to post that the author above has a serious mental illness and should seek help or if they have already they need to ensure they take their meds.
This is not being rude, sarcastic or 'funny' I am simply posting as requested so if you are still in communication with the above person please pass this on.
The gist of the article is that Bowie is evil, of the occult. Everything we've heard and seen of him has been dishonest, a fake, a facade. He is being helped by a powerful organization and given undue advantages.
Hell, even the Spiders From Mars were so shocked by Bowie's behavior, they turned to religion.
"A good friend of mine who knows about these things but who does not have an active account here asked me to post that the author above has a serious mental illness and should seek help or if they have already they need to ensure they take their meds."
You don't say? Nibbler would never have guessed that in a million milliseconds.
First thing that turned me off was the i that should be I
But looking it what a load of Dribble,we know that Bowie has done things,to
get where he is and of course he doesn't need to be remindered,the only
bad thing I've ever heard of a person who had be around Bowie, was that film
about early Teenage love story ,with Kylie Monogue and left them high and dry
during the filming,,he was a very bitter man owned a record shop in the
Mountains,I couldn't get out quick enough