I arrived at the court building to be greeted by a staff entirely of women; the only male employee in sight was one of a pair of private security guards. Meanwhile, of course, 97% of the prison population is male so, just like in the local Employment Service offices where women are employed to administer Unemployment Benefit to men, here women are employed to imprison them.

Standing by a noticeboard looking for my name and courtroom I am approached by two men. They say they are here to represent me; I should have received a letter. There’s been a change and the head of the criminal department who was dealing with my case is now a subordinate in another, actually a firm that let me down very badly before. I say “I’ve never seen you before in my life, for all I know you could be the prosecution.” They go off and arrange an interview room, to which I am shortly summoned.

The younger of the two is a barrister. “You’re a politician, right?” he starts.”No, not really.” I reply. “That’s the easy bit.” he says, “I talk and you listen.” He then goes into a spiel about how as a barrister he has a duty to do his best for his client but as an officer of the court... He reaches for a book – the one they all have, beaks, lawyers and all – the book which says I’m to get 12 months if found guilty, less a bit if I play their game or more a bit if I wind them up (I wonder if it’s published by Weidenfeld & Nicholson?). I know exactly what’s coming, and suppress my instinct to tell him where to stick it; I am, after all, in a tight corner. “The way I understand it is that you’re here to represent me” I say, and go on about the Oath of Allegiance to the Crown which, as a barrister, he must have taken. This stymies him for a few seconds, but shortly I get another “I talk and you listen” and this time I get up. “I’m not going to be spoken to like that, I’m dismissing you, I’ll represent myself” I said and walked out.

A few minutes later another woman – a real Big Sister-type this one – calls me into the courtroom. At least I don’t have to sit in the dock this time. I apologise to Deputy Stipendary Magistrate N. Watson that I unexpectedly find myself unrepresented, having been confronted with a lawyer I’ve never met before and an overbearing barrister. I ask for his understanding, as I’ve never represented myself before. In a flurry I’m provided with copies of documents and the proceedings get underway.

The man from the CPS goes into a long speech, quoting from my tape-recorded interview and the witness statements. Much of what I said during my police interview is repeated, such as the total Jewish control of the media and even the fraudster during the Guinness trial (all five defendants were Jews, apparently) miraculously recovering from Alzheimer’s Disease as soon as the trial was over. I’ve learnt subsequently that Armand Hammer surpassed even that performance. Among the sixteen or so witness statements is one from a queer who objects to the renaming of the Queen’s on the leaflet to “Queer Pub.” This was nothing but jest, with no basis in truth whatever. The man from the CPS says that perhaps he won’t be relying on this piece of evidence, but I think I may have a bit of fun with it nonetheless, later on. While he talks I’m making notes, to follow him point by point.

He sits down and immediately I stand up, not waiting to be prompted. I explain that the leaflet was meant as a gimmick, and was rather ‘tongue in cheek,’ according to the fine British tradition of being able to joke about anything. Specifically, regarding the assertion that the law of treason has been repealed, it was written according to my knowledge at the time, and I was wrong. The law of treason has not been repealed.

I go on to talk of “hatred,” that all I hate is injustice; that I may like tigers, and feel protective towards them as an endangered species, but that doesn’t mean that I want them walking down my street, because their introduction disturbs the natural ecology. I say that my knowledge of the British Constitution is at present imperfect, but this deficiency will be remedied if it becomes necessary, and I mention several Charters and Declarations to which Britain is signatory which all state in effect: Freedom of speech which is confined to only making innocuous statements is not worth having. I add that the leaflet invited votes for a legitimate political party, and that many people made complimentary remarks about it, finding it both amusing and pertinent. I tell the court that I have lived in places which have become precisely as the leaflet parodies. Referring to “The only jobs available will be minding the half-Negro children of working single mothers” I tell the court that this is exactly what happens: that all the women go with Negroes, and that all that’s left for the men is the “White man’s suicide spot.”

“There is frequent reference to the feelings of minority groups” I say “but what about my feelings?” Alluding to my psychological studies I share my conclusion that the true male instinct on the sight of a woman of one’s own race with a male of another is to kill. That the nature of the ethos of ‘protecting minority groups’ is insatiable, and will continue even when whites are a minority. I think I repeated the bit about white women going with Negroes, only the second time I said that I believed that this was the origin of spree and serial killers, such as Dunblane – and that a man may not kill his original target but himself. The magistrate here interjected something about staying to the topic.

I said that usurpers were using the law to stifle political opposition, and the inability to question political policy – whether immigration policy or any other – made democracy a sham. That politicians were ‘Member Petitioners,’ who are our servants, elected to administer our affairs, and to make us subject to them was to make us servants of our servants. Then I read from some notes I had prepared only that morning:

‘The duty of the Crown is to maintain the law and customs of the British people. Furthermore, it is the duty of the Crown to protect the subject’s liberties and freedoms despite parliament. The law which the Crown Prosecution Service seeks to apply has been made by non-British people and is contrary to the customs of the British people.’

Turning to the representative of the Crown Prosecution Service I said:

‘I accuse you of:

Perjury of the Oath of Allegiance;

I accuse you of Treason Felony, seeking to divest the Queen of her dominion, since you are seeking to impose laws made by foreigners within her dominion;

and I accuse you of Treason Proper or High Treason, adhering to the Queen’s enemies within or without the Realm.’

Finally I pointed to the Crown Arms high above the courtroom, and read out Dieu et mon Droit – God and my right. “That right is my birthright, which is to be able to say what I think.” With that I sat down.

I’d already been told by my lawyer that I had no chance whatever of winning at this stage, but I replied that if so it demonstrated that the process was a sham. The magistrate said something about not being convinced by the constitutional arguments and I, now seated, said something like “Unconstitutional is illegal, the two are synonymous” and the magistrate snapped “You’ve had your say.” Even I know that this is their stock response to speaking out of turn, but this time it really was snappy – I’d rattled him, because they really don’t like any intimation that what they’re doing is illegal. He gave his verdict that it go forward to the Crown Court. There were some directions and I think the CPS man was taken aback to be treated with such suspicion by me.

I looked around the court, half expecting to see a few supporters from the NF. A couple of men are sitting on a bench behind. “Where are you from” I ask. “Queen’s Gardens” one replied but I didn’t understand. “Police” says the other and I finally recognise them – I’ve always had a terrible memory for faces – they are the officers who interviewed me at the police HQ in Queen’s Gardens. I wonder what they would think about being taken for NF members?! I see K. at the back – at last a friendly face! – and we went together to pick up the post and to one of the cafes featured on the ‘Grease is the Word’ page. There he is personally introduced to ‘Belly Buster’ and ‘Breakfast in a Bun.’

Then to see C. for some stationery supplies which K. needs. C. is raging because someone backed into his car and drove off. So he reported it to the police, and the interviewing officer, sensing an easy conviction to add to his score, tried to arrest him on the grounds that a business advertisement was displayed on his car so he should have goods vehicle insurance not private. Three hours and 26 pieces of paper later, C. manages to get away. That’s the game: any easy conviction to boost their score. Criminal psychopaths, compulsive liars, drug-dealers and the like – of whom I have been a victim several times – who are cunning enough to be just too much work for the police can do practically as they please.

My next appearance is to be at the “Crown” Court, I believe for ‘Pleas and Directions,’ on 7th April.

Simon Sheppard
26th February 2000