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The Cockney Translater!




A monstrous good morning to you all, let’s start gentle, here...

Relaxez-vous to your civil dissobedience. lol



Now we are all wearing our masks,

We can begin, you see the best way to camouflage an effect is to swamp it with fool’s gold.


The best way to hide any treasure is not hide it at all.


I had a friend in the eighties that ran slot machines all over North London.

He was gettin’ on, but still ran his business himself; he had absolutely no need to as he had a lot of kids of which lots were boys.

He was catholic so had a gaggle of kids.


But, he still went and got the money himself.

All those pounds and fifty coins, they don’t arf add up son...


Now about this time armed robbers were getting caught in droves, the security on bank transfers and any bulk cash movement was getting American.

So they were gettin’ fingered regularly.

Because by American I didn’t mean guns and the Sheriff riding tall, nope.

The American preoccupation with criminal intelligence was paying of big-time, the two words rang in their ears a bit, because it turned out criminals of a certain stature were intelligent, very.

They had networking screwed down.


The agencies employed many tactics gained.

Grabbing someone and interrogating them, this has many effects.

When you grab someone its blatant it say very clearly "I don’t give a fuck"

That shakes the ego.

It makes affiliates wobble.

Your grasp is questioned.

Then of course it could be a family member or an integral fuse in your circuit board.

This scares the rest of the crew internally.


So earthquake.


The intelligence agencies adopted that.

They also introduced a facet of their own making.

The supergrass.


The supergrass is someone that is so integral you don’t want them removed, even if they are committing crimes.


That’s where it all went bad.


The crims didn’t do that.

Snitches get stitches on the mountain.

In the valley it’s hard to be righteous.


So dogs will eat dogs.

But up on the mountain, no.


We all know nowadays, the hows, the whens, some whos and eventually why.


No means discussed.


The rot started deep.


It was not started by men and women of action.


It started in the idle space.


Moving pound coins about would make you a massive target in the hood.

This old dude as I said went and picked it all up himself.

No matter how feared your crew or who you knew, that was starting to wane, kids that didn’t care about themselves were getting into the mix, the new edge.

That would rob anyone, usually found dead weeks later, but that didn’t stop it happening again.


So, the big firms that had slots did the big security..

They had to; there was the big bingo hall, Mecca owned and run, turning the wheel of old dears’ purses and the hapless gamblers forever running down hill.

Their money filled Mecca’s coffers, while the old dears and general inhabitants told the relatives they were going bingo.

All very excusable.

A little flutter to make the heart mutter, no harm in that...is ....there.


Out came the cash, into the van with everyone looking.

So consequently they got rolled regular.


This made the old bill look silly so they clamped down.

The corporate bingo hall and casinos hired bigger trucks and made a point of getting the culprits caught.


During all of this my mate drove around gettin’ his nuggets in complete safety, in some of the worst neighbourhoods in the country.


It wasn’t cos he was a serious individual to piss about wiv (which he seriously was) nope.

So how the fuck did he do it?




He rode around in old clothes, not dirty, just worn, you know, the clothes you use to do the house work.

He was gettin’ on.

Bit round.

He had a massive house cars etc.

He drove a pickup, not too old to be shit and break down, five six years old.

Dents were left if not illegal.

It wasn’t washed.

But it had a turbocharged engine.

A good suspension set up.

Some well placed aluminium bracing.


It looked shit.

But had great tires.


Funny how you don’t notice all that shit, until it’s pointed out.


He rode round, drank tea upon arrival.

Then picked up the money (not in bags, in rubbish buckets), left it open in the back of the pickup.


He drove round sometimes with thousands of pounds every day.


No one even knew he owned the place.


They all thought he was just "A MICK" that picked up the "rubbish"

He would even have a go on the odd machine calmly while his money sat in Dalston High Street.

Never got touched, for years.


So when you see a Brinksmatt lorry steaming down the road to the electronic fanfare....


Think again..

What’s in it is foolish, innit.




The money’s in a dustbin lorry.

Another day.


Plain site isn’t so plain.


Words won’t hide the deed forever.

But physical actions can.


They are stealing, using you to do it from yourselves.


You’re helping.


We all are.


Some would like to jump from the plane.

They even have parachutes.

But they are scared for their kids.


You need them, we all need each other.


The mask that is used is to swamp.

The internet is not what it seems.


You were going to become more as time went on.


Because we are so good at watching everyone now the time was seen to arise.

As we spiral thru the universe we encounter many different tides.

These tides effect the sun...

As you know the solar system moves through the universe on a trajectory taking us with it.

Magnetic fields affect grass fields.

We just exhibit the changes faster because we are more complicated, in short.

So we bend in the breeze first.

Some knew this was coming long ago.

Some discovered it from there instruments.

As the understanding grew, one thing was agreed by the hundred monkeys.


Shhhhhhhhhhh!


Fear.


Now the whole world and its sister know summink’s up.


But if you were an observer trying to keep the unstable peace through the mayhem of growth...

You would know that this was never a variable option you could science the shit out of, this is planetary baby.


Universal shit is indifferent to indifference.


So, you gonna need a story...


To cover the upscale, even if it’s just a breeze at the moment.

It will be a wind soon, then a storm....


What explanation on earth could distract from that.

Well they tickled ya fancy to see.


Aliens.

God.

War.


All very expensive.

Tested.

Useful.

So used.


But it ain’t working on the big one.


As with all things clever, someone that wasn’t exposed to the academic mindfuck, so thought inside the box and appreciated the silence, sat in that quiet of ignorance but natural ability...


And the internet was born.


If you want to cover a global phenomenon... you need a global phenomenon.


If you need to cover awareness, you need a reason everyone is becoming aware.


Metadata.

The algorithms answer to your rhythm...

The plastic version of your connection...


And now you’re hooked.


There’s more.





I got attended by the police on some trumped up shit, straight after I started to go after the underlings...


Then went I went after the underlings to get some evidence which I knew existed; they policed me again after doing a run around cover up...


I keep it simple.

They did, and are doing to me a set of moves.


Because it’s me, the moves changed.


I have people around me, but it’s getting bigger.


And I know I’m just the bog roll it's written on.


Even if you think I’m a cunt.

Or you’re weird or jealous, this concerns you.


If you sympathise with what I’m saying, but you are a thoughtful type and have responsibilities to your family, this concerns you.


They're just crims.


But I’m just me.


They are going to come for me soon.


On all sorts of made up shit.

The reason.

Too much evidence, on video.


I have been put in the system, so I have broken it.


Now I’m shouting at the animal as it eats me.


I could do with you keeping an eye on this, so it’s not a waste of time.


We left the gurus and the idiots behind in their safety dream long ago.

You all know that it’s a game.

You know that anyone that talks about politics with any more validity than a soap opera or wrestling wwf-style is part of it, by choice or misadventure.


The pundits argue over who is first...

First to what, give you the shit news you already knew?


Tell you something they surmised from something someone else surmised.


First doesn’t matter, understanding does.


Adulation is a honey trap for the weak minded.


Those that feed on the cult of celebrity are due there deserts.


Cenk and Alex are the same animal, as you dam well know.

They survive at the trough, everything does...

They will get theirs, anyone on the side of the machine will, eventually, it’s happening now, just slowly.






On a much more funny note (and geeez did I need a laugh) we went to look at the charlatans n gurus.


Right now the gurus are reinventing themselves.

Have you noticed how I've burnt that word too, like super soldier, even they use these tired phrases in derogatory terms, now lol.


The irony they are dividing, as I said.

Some of you were there and saw what I did.


Word for word, as I said what I would do.


So now they divide, and the two ships of fools sidle up for there insignificant battle, for the wits of the poor.


Funny to watch a liar lie about other liars being bigger liars than him or her to get there new lies on top of the old lies.

Some are just head down at the trough.


Some are not.



On a personal note.

Some told me Bill Ryan is standing up as a paragon!

Really!

Well here’s a quote:

Mr Bill Ryan is a liar.

He has fabricated slanderous lies about myself and innocent parties around me.

If he comes to my neck of the woods, I will be taking him to court for slander, bearing false witness.

This led to actual criminal assault.

He knows this.

He knows I have total unequivocal proof.

He knows there are certain females that he has avoided that want words.

He has left a trail of destruction behind him, I speak of human destruction, That’s real not imagined (corey/wilcox style). That’s real answerable shit.


So Bill, whenever ya ready you slanderous, lying fucktard.

Here I am.


Gimme a call, I’m sure everyone would like that convo...

Eh?

Mr 767

In fact that’s to any of you fucking twats..

Let’s go.


Only thing.

YOUR NAME

So no hiding....


Should be worth a laugh, I’d like to see one of these fuckin wankers stand up to my kinda questioning......


I’m not going to call them names of body parts, cos those parts are useful.


This lot are as useful as a chocolate ashtray on a fuckin motorbike.


Oh one thing...

Mr Dolan, the UFO man.

I don’t fuckin’ care how long you known him...you’re gonna go down the pan with him and loose what you had.


Please call me and I will furnish you with the truth.

I will also show you evidence, not whimsy.

I say and do this ONLY because you are just looking, you have seemed to me to be an honest man...

CALL ME, HE IS A LIAR.