Before detailing my recent experience of Jewish Chronicle (JC) editor Stephen Pollard’s refusal to grant my Subject Access Request (SAR), I would briefly like to return to last June and the day of my sentencing at Westminster Magistrates Court.
When I was called once more to the dock, I immediately recognised solicitor Mark Lewis, seated next to both my accusers from Campaign Against Antisemitism. I was able to quickly alert my barrister, Adrian Davies, that Lewis had sent me several death threats on Twitter, a fact which Mr Davies revealed during mitigation that same day.
During my second visit with the Probation Service in August, I produced screenshots of Lewis’ tweets along with several other examples of abuse sent to me on Twitter, abuse that is still ongoing today despite the obvious fact that I am unable to respond directly owing to my 12-month ban from social media. Shortly after my meeting with probation, Lewis’ prosecution by the Solicitors Regulatory Authority was quietly announced by the media.
According to the British Sentencing Council’s definitive guidelines on the imposition of custodial sentences:
• A custodial sentence must not be imposed unless the offence or the combination of the offence and one or more offences associated with it was so serious that neither a fine alone nor a community sentence can be justified for the offence.
Furthermore, the Criminal Justice Act 2003, part 12, chapter 3, para. 9 (5), states:
Before making a suspended sentence order imposing two or more different requirements falling within subsection (1) [mine has no less that five], the court must consider whether, in the circumstances of the case, the requirements are compatible with each other.
And again quoting from the above guidelines:
• A suspended sentence MUST NOT be imposed as a more severe form of community order. A suspended sentence is a custodial sentence. Sentencers should be clear that they would impose an immediate custodial sentence if the power to suspend were not available. If not, a non-custodial sentence should be imposed.
At my conviction last May, District Judge John Zani was fairly precise in his indication that my offences were serious enough to warrant custody. My musical malice had “on the face of it”, passed the custody threshold and therefore I was facing a spell behind bars or – as it turned out – a custodial punishment in the form of a Suspended Sentence Order including slave labour plus four other requirements.
Are these requirements compatible? Not really. Forced labour plus a 12-month social media ban plus a fine prevent me from earning a crust. The strangest part of my order is the 20-day “Rehabilitation Requirement Activity” (RAR). Let me explain.
For the fifth time in 12 months, I walked free from court again yesterday – this time in a breach trial brought against me by the National Probation Service (NPS) for refusing to comply with the slave labour part of my Suspended Sentence Order.
First off, a brief explanation is necessary regards the difference between a Community Order (CO) and a Suspended Sentence Order (SSO). As one District Judge commented in a research paper published in 2008:
‘Well, prison is an ever-present part of one isn’t it [the SSO], but not of the other, and that’s the difference in a nutshell. There’s a real threat. As I see it, a Community Order is – look, we’re trying to help you – and anything to do with imprisonment is – look, we’re trying to threaten you.’
During the years I spent teaching in Swiss secondary schools, in-training days were often orientated towards how to motivate a class of musically mixed-ability teenagers to sing together tunefully and with conviction. One of these training days I remember in particular, given by a male colleague who, during a football World Cup championship, had filmed all the participating teams singing their respective national anthems. The lesson was clear: more often than not, teams who sang with passion and heartfelt conviction went on to gain satisfactory results.
International sporting events have long been one of the subtle ways by which Globalists have been able to implement their agenda of mass non-white immigration into European countries. Most noticeable in football, cricket and athletics, multiracial “national” teams have in recent decades become increasingly present on track, field and pitch. Can a cricketer, for example of Pakistani origin born in England, truly harbour the same patriotism for his adoptive country than an Englishman born and bred in England whose northern European genetic makeup is an integral part of his origin and identity?
Sporting professionals who happen to be British citizens born of foreign parents have the choice whether they compete for Britain or for the country from which their parents originated. Is this fair? Does this not raise questions of possible conspiracy? Would this be one reason why English national teams in so many disciplines tend to produce disappointing results?