The Love and Fear of Asking Questions: Writing Contest


Ned Pamphilon
Activist Post

I sent out New Year’s 2012 hand-made NPP greeting cards with text on the inside insert:

2012? Yeah! Mayan prophesies aside, let there be an out-pouring of world love & peace; a BBC properly serving the public; clean food & water production; public awareness of Codex Alimentarius & Agenda 21; the reintroduction of raw milk into regular retail outlets; awareness that calorie concept is merely a marketing tool since burning food is not an accurate reflection of the human digestive system; increased whole grain food consumption over refined grain consumption; a free Gary McKinnon; Ron Paul as US President; realisation that temperature may drive CO2, not the other way round; reform of the fractional banking system; a realisation that left-right politics are facades of a centralised one party system; the release of Nikola Tesla technology; a cessation of my country’s seemingly eternal policy of violent international interventionism; a widening of philosophical parameters beyond Creationism & Darwinian Evolution; and silverware for Arsene Wenger. Otherwise, rock easy!

Trends forecaster Gerald Celente says rock easy! I use his mantra: unencumbered by political dogma and conventional wisdom, and a Turkish Ottoman saying later used by Ataturk: Yurtta Baris, Dunyada Baris – Peace at Home, Peace in the World. I tend to avoid referencing David Icke because people’s predisposed positions are often alerted before well-disposed evaluation.

As a boy I fantasised playing for English football team Arsenal. BBC1 flagship sports programme Grandstand featured Football Focus presented by Saint and Greavsie; more fun and even ‘dangerous’ in the 1980s than mainstream friendly, Grandstand stand-in host Mr. ‘Nice’ David Icke. David was the regular TV presenter for increasingly popular sport, snooker, and almost annoyingly inoffensive compared to the ‘dangerous’ players Alex ‘Hurricane’ Higgins and Jimmy ‘Whirlwind’ White.

Despite a degree in architecture, in 1988 I was working as a DJ at The Marquee Club in Soho London and singing with a band. Music was compartmentalised into taste categories while I pushed boundaries playing Rolf Harris followed by Niggers With Attitude, Zeppelin, Terminal Cheesecake and whatever my audience might tolerate. While Guns N’ Roses played The Marquee, I visited Turkey for the first time at the end of a tour of Mediterranean USAF bases entertaining troops with 3 other band members confined to a Ford Transit van. The same year I drove through Lockerbie with a best friend en route to Edinburgh, stopping to look at the massive scar left upon the earth by the recent plane crash.

In 1991 I saw David go ‘nuts’ in his tracksuit on The Wogan Show. Cuddly Irish TV chat show host Terry Wogan belittled Icke for going ‘nuts’. It was uncomfortable viewing and I empathised with Icke. Later I considered buying a book, drawn to differing photos on the back cover of David; portrayals before and after his ‘transformation’. I decided to leave it; Icke was a passing interest, not a must buy.

I took up painting and went from Riyadh Saudi to Midland Texas to Kuala Lumpur Malaysia, landing and staying in Istanbul for ten years plus. I tried persuading Turkish authorities to implement my Bosphorus Rainbow Bridge project: painting the 7 colours of peace upon the 7 underside grey panels of the Bosphorus Bridge. The Prime Minister’s office denied the project citing concern about creating a terrorist target, foreign parties painting their Turkish bridge and the San Francisco rainbow ‘gay’ imagery. I’d naively seen the rainbow as a peace symbol all religions and cultures could embrace. My portraits of Turkey’s secular founder Ataturk may have helped to deter the Islamic leaning AKP government. Ataturk, like Churchill, is a hero for many about whom some questions are taboo.

The massive vibrations of a deadly earthquake shook me awake in 1999. In 2001, on 9/10, my Istanbul studio windows shook to the vibration of a suicide bomber in Taksim Square. The next day I watched 9/11 unfold live on cable TV and a reporter in Pennsylvania described a 30ft x 40ft hole with ‘nothing in it’. Compared to the scar at Lockerbie, it was unlikely a plane crash. The Pentagon attack did not infer a jet airliner, and a third building fell in free-fall time just like the first two; just like the controlled explosions of unwanted structures by that chap on BBC1’s children’s programme Blue Peter.

In 2002 I undertook a commission to portray Colonel Gadhafi for a Turkish construction company commemorating a 30-year working relationship with Libya. I only met Libyan diplomatic representatives who supplied official photographs from which to work. I was told the UK was viewing Gadhafi in friendly terms so my portrait would not be an issue. My windows shook again in 2003 as terrorists hit the Istanbul British Consulate. I held an art exhibition in the newly built consulate in 2005 before attending my exhibition in seaside resort Bodrum. A friend lent me Icke’s The Biggest Secret and I sat by a swimming pool captivated by a different and fascinating perspective to the world I’d grown up in.

Back in Istanbul painting and listening to BBC Radio 4 via the Internet, Tory politician Edwina Curry suggested BNP leader Nick Griffin and historian David Irving should not be permitted to debate at the Oxford Union. Griffin is best left to speak freely and create his own demise, but I put down my paint to google Irving; WWII concentration camps; typhus epidemics; the practicalities of gassing and disposing of numerous bodies; how corpses were piled up by liberating forces to be photographed. A few years later I read The Story of a Polish Exile by my new friend Witold Kasicki, a Pole who survived 5 concentration camps because he volunteered to man the typhus block. In my last letter to him I wondered why his book, although including horrendous and unfathomable detail of cruelty, had not mentioned gas chambers. He died last year a day after calling me to postpone our arranged lunch. My impression is he was so affected by the mass culling, the methods were almost immaterial.

I saw David Icke at Brixton Academy in 2008. During his introduction he referred to his arthritic hands; that the word cripple was just a word and to get over it. I had used the rudest and most offensive English words to create my abstract Rude Word Painting in Istanbul, inspired by the Turkish PM complaining of insulting journalism and cartoons. The rudest Turkish words to me were merely inoffensive audio-visual vibration. I used words that may prevent this article being acceptable for a writing competition: cunt, fuck, nigger, paki. As I type my thoughts turn to Dr. Masaru Emoto’s work with word vibration and water crystals. In 2009 at a shopping centre in Bury St. Edmunds, where The Charter of Liberties was signed 1214, I displayed the painting at 9am and by 3pm had to remove it because of complaints.

The only person informed of my going to see David Icke was a barrister friend in his final weeks battling cancer. He called me during the last coffee break of the show and I had to leave before David’s final hour; the hour where he lifts the atmosphere after the gloom. I really wanted that optimistic last hour.

I have painted portrayals of Common Sense author, Thomas Paine, born of my nursery school town Thetford. The theory making most common sense to me with regards to being a human being is David’s: infinite conscious having an experience; high frequency love and lower frequency fear. Adhering to this daily is difficult as I frequently lose my rag.

I have attended too many cancer-related funerals. I have shared information about the health industry to friends and family, yet conventional wisdoms prevail. The BBC rattle on oblivious to the ever-increasing numbers accessing alternative sources of information. I came to realise copyright and patents are crucial in curbing the sharing of information. I now supply NPP images for free and my greeting card inserts state: Copyright is a debilitating & redundant concept.

Recently my hairdresser talked of ADHD syndrome and medication diagnosed to her 6-year-old son. I mentioned Health Ranger Mike Adams. During my next appointment an Internet connected mobile was thrust under my nose showing as she declared, “All mums should know this stuff!”

My hairdresser only phones to confirm appointments. Then one day I returned a message, nothing to do with hair. She simply said, “Why didn’t you tell me about the Illuminati and the New World Order?”

Today, even Ron Paul apparently accepts the official 9/11 story, yet the mainstream label him ‘dangerous’. David Icke is perceived by some as being on another planet altogether. The choice of love over fear is the crux of life. I urge you to use the Net while possible and enable love to reign over the fear of asking questions.

Ned Pamphilon
English artist, musician, Gooner, BA Arch (Hons)

This submission has been entered into a contest to win 2 premium tickets + $500 for travel to see David Icke at Wembley Arena, London — October 27, 2012.  If you like this article, please share it far and wide, as the winner will be determined by the total number of pageviews acquired before the end of the contest on June 15th.  For additional details about submissions, please visit our Contest Page.

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