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Comet caused Dark Ages.

Comet caused Dark Ages, says tree ring expert…

By Roger Highfield, Robert Uhlig and David Derbyshire

A COMET exploding in the Earth’s atmosphere contributed to the collapse of the Roman Empire in the West and ushered in the Dark Ages, it was claimed yesterday.

Studies of tree rings going back thousands of years have shown that the world experienced a sudden and catastrophic drop in temperatures in 540 AD. The disaster led to repeated crop failures, famines and the spread of bubonic plague that may have wiped out around a third of the population of Europe, according to Professor Mike Baillie, a tree ring expert at Queen’s University, Belfast.

The plague of 542, triggered by two years of famines and bad harvests, also may have hindered the attempts of the Roman Emperor Justinian I to reconquer western Europe, altering the political make-up of Europe. The blight may have even contributed to the myths of Arthur and the “wasteland” that devastated Britain in the middle of the 6th century.

Tree rings can provide valuable clues about historical climate changes. A cold year, for instance, appears in the tree record as a narrow ring. Prof Baillie told the British Association that 540 had been shown to be a catastrophic year in Siberia, Scandinavia, North America, South America and Northern Europe. He said: “It very probably started the Dark Ages.”

He believes that the drop in temperature was caused by fragments of a comet exploding in the atmosphere, surrounding the world with a cloud of dust and water vapour. Contemporary accounts from China and the Mediterranean reveal high meteorite activity in the 530s. Prof Baillie called for historians to help to fill the gaps and look again at mythology from the Dark Ages for clues to the comet’s existence.

Read more: The Legend of the Sword v’s The Real King Arthur II

Other scientists have suggested that a super volcano in the 530s triggered a global climate shift. But Prof Baillie said there was no geological or historical evidence for such a massive explosion. He said the Arthurian legend might be linked to the catastrophic climate change with stories of Arthur’s search for the Holy Grail describing a wasteland where Britain was blighted with darkness and famine.

Sourced from: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/1354622/Comet-caused-Dark-Ages-says-tree-ring-expert.html



King Charles III is the boldest BBC show of the year.

#Diana’s ghost, Camilla slapping the prince, Kate as Lady Macbeth … people have been outraged by the BBC’s potentially treasonous new drama. But after watching, the response should be more ‘hooray’ than ‘off with their heads!’

An outrage for those who believe the monarchy should always be reverenced … King Charles III.
An outrage for those who believe the monarchy should always be reverenced … King Charles III. Photograph: Robert Viglasky/BBC/Drama Republic

Some Tory politicians and royal biographers had frothed about the content of a piece that includes shots of Elizabeth II’s funeral procession; the ghost of Diana, Princess of Wales, speaking prophecies to her ex-husband and elder son; and Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, slapping Prince William for plotting to seize the throne from his father. The objectors hadn’t seen the original play but considered even the idea lese-majesty.

Those not calling for the DG’s head were perhaps aware that the script had not been hatched by a bunch of crazed republicans in a Broadcasting House bunker. King Charles III is an adaptation of a stage play by Mike Bartlett already performed around 400 times in London and New York, transferring to the West End and Broadway after its premiere at the Almeida theatre in north London in 2014.

Such moments as Camilla’s slap and Diana’s ghost – white-dressed at the end of a long corridor beside an eerily rocking child’s rocking horse – will inevitably have caused more shock on TV, where it is easier for the potentially offended to stumble on the stuff, than in the theatre, where the response was standing ovations and award nominations.

However, TV viewers have now seen that the play is not an exercise in Spitting Image-style satire: the actors sample some mannerisms from their Windsor originals, but give imaginative portrayals, rather than Bremner-esque impressions.

Nor could the script ever be mistaken for a docudrama. King Charles III is a futuristic what-if – set in around 2022 – which becomes a political thriller, a Palace of Cards if you will, when the new monarch refuses to sign a parliamentary bill he dislikes, causing a constitutional crisis and civil unrest. Distanced not only by time but style, it is written in blank verse, Bartlett’s governing conceit being that Shakespeare had survived to characterise Charles III as he did the various Richards and Henrys.

A plausible emotive portrait … Tim Pigott-Smith’s performance avoids any trace of the pettiness, temper and self-indulgence attributed to Charles by biographers.
Tim Pigott-Smith’s performance avoids any trace of the pettiness, temper and self-indulgence attributed to Charles by biographers. Photograph: Robert Viglasky/BBC/Drama Republic

Conceived as a pastiche of dramatic tragedy, the play now trails a real one, in the sudden death last month of Tim Pigott-Smith, who played the title role on stage and screen and whose performance now becomes his memorial.

Pigott-Smith’s performance and Bartlett’s script avoid any trace of the pettiness, temper and self-indulgence attributed to Charles by biographers, offering a plausible emotive portrait of a man who has waited more than 70 years to start work, then finds himself incapable of being just a face on the stamps and banknotes. “What am I?,” Charles asks, a line that Pigott-Smith, with an agonised sigh, makes as existentially heart-wrenching as Hamlet’s To be, or not to be.

Even the constitutional crisis Charles provokes is a kindly choice. Bartlett doesn’t imagine him leading a military dictatorship or massacring modernist architects, but standing up for the freedom of the press (something that has never seemed high on the agenda of the real Prince of Wales).

And, in one sense, the play is optimistic and reassuring for monarchists. The coronation oath taken here makes the King of England monarch of territories still including Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales, Australia, New Zealand and Canada, which only a plucky royalist would bet their Buckingham Palace garden party ticket on at this point.

Much of the play has been cut – the 90-minute TV slot is an hour shorter than the theatrical playing time – and some of the excisions make the text less challenging to BBC editorial guidelines. Rupert Goold, who directed the play in both media, admitted in an interview that the broadcaster had expressed unease with Diana’s ghost mocking Prince Charles’s suitability to rule. That speech has gone.

Electioneering politicians may be relieved as well that a speech from the play in which a kebab-seller laments the shrinking of Britain (“cut the army … squeeze the NHS … the Post Office closed … Devolution. Less and less”) becomes on TV a metaphor in which the Queen holds the UK together like the metal spit that splits a turning slab of doner meat.

Parts of the play are genuinely shocking, with the attitude of viewers depending on whether they believe living royals should be protected from fictional representation (as they effectively were in Britain until the 1980s), or conclude that inclusion in a drama can be no worse than the intrusions into their privacy the Windsors suffer regularly.

Bartlett gave his Prince Harry a romance with a sparky outsider, played by Tamara Lawrance, long before the real Harry’s relationship with Meghan Markle.
Bartlett gave his Prince Harry a romance with a sparky outsider, played by Tamara Lawrance, long before the real Harry’s relationship with Meghan Markle. Photograph: Robert Viglasky/BBC/Drama Republic

One pre-transmission furore concerned a line in which a nightclubber repeats gossip about Prince Harry’s paternity. But, in the context, this claim is spoken by a committed republican, who subsequently recants, and clearly represents the sort of stuff the princes have to put up with. Richard Goulding’s vulnerable, touching Harry seems a fair guess about the psyche of the fifth in line to the throne. Bartlett also gave his prince a romance with a sparky outsider, played by Tamara Lawrance, long before the real Harry’s relationship with Meghan Markle.

The appearance of Diana’s ghost, as well as being a nod to Shakespearean convention, also seems a reasonable presentation of the way Charles, William and Harry are shadowed by the dead princess both historically and, as her sons have acknowledged in frank interviews, psychologically.

Whether or not you believe that William and Catherine would ever, like Cambridge Macbeths, mount a palace coup, Oliver Chris and Charlotte Riley are completely convincing in suggesting how such a conflict of loyalties would play out within the family.

King Charles III, on TV, is two different things: an outrage for those who believe the monarchy should always be reverenced, especially by the BBC, but also a drama with the highest quality of acting, writing and filming. Strangely, those versions sometimes co-exist: a paper whose front page railed against the BBC for questioning Prince Harry’s DNA gave the play a five-star preview on its TV pages on the same day.

Sourced: https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2017/may/10/king-charles-iii-stop-frothing-royalists-boldest-bbc-show-of-year#img-3




A Criminal Investigation is the Real Reason Theresa May Called the General Election.

The election isn’t meant to solidify Brexit—it’s meant to keep May in power

Bridge of Spies by Christopher Spivey

Bridge of Spies

I’ll tell you what for nothing; when I first temporarily shelved ‘Book Ends‘ to write up this London Bridge malarkey I never for one moment expected to still be writing it now.

Moreover, there is still a good ways to go before I finish it, despite being up to the 40,000 word mark – 38,107 to be exact.

And believe me when I say that I will be glad when  it’s done because what on the surface appeared to be another amateurishly put-together fraud act on behalf of the British government is anything but… Indeed it is enormously complicated and my stress levels have been close to melt-down trying to figure out how it was done.

But I have and you will be shocked by it I can promise you that. Moreover, unlike the hoaxes that I have written about before this Westmonster Horror Show will be documented in one volume as opposed to the usual three or four and often more.

Course, not being able to get anything new on here has also added to my stress especially with a few donations still coming in… Which is just as well since I have to eat like everyone else and my financial situation is absolutely dire. And of course therein lies another reason for me wanting/needing to get the Westminster exposé out of the way.

Unfortunately, concentrating on the task in hand means that I haven’t had the time to thank those of you who have donated over the last couple of weeks, but I promise you that I will get round to doing it as soon as I can.

However, having said that there is one fella – and I won’t say who he is in case he wishes to remain anonymous – who donated a sum far too large to let it go unacknowledged for any length of time and I will be writing to him as a matter of priority – You sir have literally kept a roof over my head (hopefully) and I am extremely grateful to you.

But anyway, my original intention here had been to give you a little look at what you can expect from this forthcoming book-length report on the unforgivable criminal act committed on the nation by senior members of the government & constabulary whilst also giving a little mention to the recent latest batch of bullshit reporting on Madeleine McCann.

I was then going to top my words off with one of the articles given to me as gap-fillers by my friend, the writer & historian, John Hamer.

Now I don’t know if you have read those four or five fairy stories or not about young Madeleine, but the total, total bollox written about her in the Chimp proper got my goat.

However, after the MI5 ‘follow up‘ to the Westminster abomination I have decided to have a word about that instead. Therefore any of you who thought that this was going to be the actual Westminster Bridge-fest I am sorry to tell you that it isn’t… It is a kind of Sequel-Prequel.

Now since the latest round of McCann nonsense articles and Mad Masood’s 82 second moment of mayhem have someone in common – as no doubt yesterdays terrapin hoax (28/4/17) will have soon enough – it would be rude of me not to mention him… Especially so with our un-elected Prime Mincer, The Right Orrible Transvestite, Terry May singing the praises of our Security Services and Boys in Blue.

You see, the person that I am on about who has played a massive role in perpetuating the Westminster bridge fraud, whilst currently trying to do the same for the Madeleine McCann myth and will doubtlessly stick his two penneth worth into the latest Westminster fraud is Top Plod, Mark Rowley – Acting Deputy Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police.

Indeed, the ultra vain Rowley took the leading role in the Westminster Am-Drams over Acting Met Commissioner, Craig Mackey… Acting being the operative word to describe the pair of criminals.

In fact have you noticed how many of these pretend investigations have an’Acting’ plod in charge? The Jo Cox caper is another example.

Nevertheless, I would imagine that Rampant Rowley was given the starring role because he is more debonair than the Boris Johnson Buffoon like, Craig Mackey.

And of course Mackey is being kept away from the public after having Masood run straight past his car, before stabbing one of his police officers to death prior to being shot dead, to which Mackey simply said “drive on Parker” without so much as even getting out of his posh-motor to have a butchers-hook.

Mind you, Rowley did appear to do a Stirling job whilst posing model-like to deliver his updates on the Westminster nonsense.

In his fucking element look, standing there with one outstretched leg forward of the other… Yet in reality, Skid-Mark is anything but the cool, calm & authoritative police spokesman that he would have us believe.

Worst still, Rotten Rowley hadn’t even read the Westmonster script properly before facing the world’s press and made one almighty fuck up when asked by a reporter if [allegedly] un-armed PC Palmer (supposedly stabbed to death by terrorist, Mad Masood) was in fact armed at the time of his murder.

And when Rattled Rowley confirmed that Palmer was indeed carrying a firearm before almost immediately realizing his fuck up, his reaction is a sight to behold.

Now obviously the footage of this almighty fuck up wasn’t shown over here, but I still anticipate the video disappearing in the near future if it hasn’t done already. Therefore I videoed the video for posterity… Watch and listen carefully.

I can’t stop watching that… I fucking love it when the mugs trying to mug us mug themselves off.

Course – and as most of you already know –  in order to be in the ‘club‘ you have to compromise yourself. And as such I wasn’t surprised when Rowley turned up as an “Australian” tourist, recounting to the press the horrors that he saw on the 22nd of March 2017.

And that should be a matter of grave concern to everyone… Right, let’s have a look at the follow up nonsense that took place on the 27th of April 2017 – and I am sure that you all realize that the agendas here are:

  • the ban on knives – after all they have already banned the guns.
  • the full time arming of the criminal police
  • and keeping our MP’s well away from the public so as they don’t cotton on to the fact that between a half to two thirds of the scumbags do not even exist
  • not to mention making heroes out of villains.

Now Google the words “Metropolitan Police Corruption” whilst also bearing in mind that the Security Services have been behind every terrorist attack in this country since WW2.

Course, one of the first things that I noticed about yesterday’s old bollox is that they are using it as an opportunity to rewrite history in regard to the Mad Masood mayhem.

Kinda makes ya wonder how Andrea Christie – or as the silly as arseholes press like to call her; Andreea Cristea – got knocked off the bridge in the first fucking place, don’t it?

Not that she really did of course. Indeed no one was hurt at all not even ‘hero’ cop, Keith Palmer… Although someone got rich from the fiction.

In fact Andreeeeeeea turned up the next day as a commuter spreading the “we will never let terrapinism beat us” bollox.

And I should also point out that she is also happy-as-larry, Masood victim, Edy Cochran – or whatever her fucking stage name was – who couldn’t stop smiling at the death of her beloved husband of 25 years, Eddie Cochran.

Absolutely fucking gutted she is.

Now, no doubt that the details will have changed by the time that you read this but this latest terrapin, probably called Terry – despite him not really being a terrapin – had been on round the cock surveillance by the Men-In-Tights:

And like Old Telly May keeps saying; our intelligence services get their information from impeccable sources… Such as the terrapins family:

Those journalist in the chimp are gooder than most are they?

But in the end it seems that the MIT got their man via a crisis actor agency stop and search:

I wonder if that Scotland Yard Spokesman is Mark Rowley?

And indeed, that stop & search came at the best place possible – the central reservation on Whitehall where he was confronted by armed police.

Course, I always thought that once an armed plodothon has identified himself he then repeatedly shouts at his target: “GET ON THE GROUND. GET ON THE GROUND”.

Yet it seems that despite sticking his hands in the air and dropping his zipper bag with the zip undone, causing 3 knives to fall out – two were in case he had to reload I would imagine – the plod decide to bundle him to the ground manually… Which they probably find much more fun.

And after bumming him to the ground one of the vindictive bastards trod on his fingers… And they wouldn’t even let him have a piss in peace.

Mind you our terrapin looks exactly like you would expect a man to look whom, having had his mission thwarted and his fingers stamped on by the arresting armed police, is now facing years in prison – thus robbing him of the final years of his youth.

Nevertheless after routinely stopping and searching him, the plod obviously decided that the Whitehall Central Reservation wasn’t the best of choices to do so after all and moved Terry Terrapin across the road onto the pavement, consequently closing a major underground station in the process.

Moreover, by taking him over to the pavement on the Treasury side the sharp minded plod had to close the road off – a major road at that upon which traffic had been free flowing up until that point.

But at least in doing so meant that they could keep the other side of the road open – the side with one of the two lanes already closed off at the worst possible place (traffic lights) which was already causing a long tail back… They’ve got some brains these fucking heroes haven’t they?

PHOTO: Which side of the road would you close off in order to keep the public safe, the station open and cause the least chaos?

Still at least the Men-Who-Point-A-Lot got there early.

PHOTO: What the fuck is the daft cunt pointing out to his daft cunt mate – That he isn’t an alcoholic or something?

Even though they only had one pair of spaceman’s boots between them. But they were so early in fact that the terrapin – too dumb to do the zipper up on his bag of assorted knives in an area crawling with plod – hadn’t even been carted off to the nick at that point.

Although they wasn’t as quick off the mark as the photo journalists who were there from the off… Sort of telepathic telephoto lenses.

Indeed I really do not think that the Monster Minions know exactly what crime scene forensic officers do!

After all, here they are in their sterile suits and masks, photographing 3 knives that were not used on anyone and couldn’t possibly be in the same place as when they fell out of soft-lad’s unzipped zipper bag, laying on the ground that forms one of the busiest crossings in the world… I mean, what the fuck were they hoping to find? Yet a police photographer could have taken the snappy snaps.

Worse still, not only did Sterile-Trainers-Man forget his space-wellies, he also forgot to bring the fucking evidence markers too.

Mind you, if you think that cunt is dumb what about Space-Boots-Space-Ed who taped his sterile gloves to his sterile space suit presumably to avoid any fibers falling out of his sleeves onto one of the busiest bits of real estate in the world?

Before realizing that as a professional forensic officer he would need to change his gloves multiple times!

And people think that this really happened???

I mean fuck me! He must be as drugged up as the professional paramedics who put Mad Masood into their ambulance the wrong way and as a consequence had to take him off the back lift to turn him round the other way.

Must have been a bastard first ever job for the fellas!

But least said, soonest mended.

And who knows, I may be wrong. I mean perhaps silly bollocks is done up like a dogs dinner because he’s allergic to knives?

Although fuck knows where he found the one in the following photo.

However, did you notice the lack of traffic in the overhead photo that I showed you a while back?

Weird or what when you consider that the traffic coming down Whitehall is going into a bottle neck right on the traffic lights? Yet none of the overhead shots bear any resemblance to the street side photos.

Mind you, there was a lot of strange goings on at the time.

For instance where are all the police motors?

Indeed not even the two unmarked motors that we can see in the overhead photo (two photos up) are there, yet Terry Terrapin is still on the scene. Therefore the fact that the unneeded forensics are there already are a good indication that this is nothing more than a photo-shoot.

And how coincidental is it that we see the same plod van as was used in the Mad Masood caper as well as a coach identical to the suspect coach also used that day?

PHOTO: The coach used on March 22nd 2017.

Well, I say that it is the same plod van as that used on the day of Mad Masood’s road-rage mayhem but it has a different registration number despite having the same 3 letter code which as far as I can ascertain is unique to the vehicle that it is assigned to.

Now as you can see in the above photo, the registration number of the CLL van is BV 16 UXW.

Whereas the registration number on the ‘other‘ CLL van is… Err… Something different which constantly evolved as the van turned.

Yet then again, looking at the photo below the van could possibly have the same registration as that used in the Masood caper (BV 16 UXW).

Although looking at the registration plate on a Mercedes van that also passed the “Forensics Officer”  I am not sure that the 3 letter code, CLL is not also being used as deliberate subliminal message.

You see, the the last three letters on the Mercedes van registration plate appeared to read as the word “Kill” when the vehicle turned.

Not that any of the motors were as they should have been that day. But then again all of the photos and videos are fake.

For instance take a look at the following screenshot taken from one of the Chimps videos.

Now in this photo we see Terry Terrapin being carted off to the plod motor behind the Volvo plod motor. And that 2nd motor is clearly a car.

You only need look at the height of the forensic officer to the right of the motor too see that.

Yet when we see the Ariel shots the motors look very different indeed.

And at the very least that second motor will be 5 ft 7 ins tall or more… But then again we are talking about a lot of CGI here. Either that or there are some very tall funny looking coppers in London!

Nevertheless, as the coppers walked Terry to the motors it certainly appears as if they are going to put him into the Volvo.

Excuse the red circle it is fuck all to do with me. Although it might be something to do with taking the emphasis off the Volvo’s roof because fuck knows what is going on there.

Nevertheless, as they get to the Volvo’s rear door they all simply keep walking… As in; keep walking through the car as if it isn’t there!

And that is where the video ends… However, we now need to look at the Ariel video.

Nevertheless, they then get him into the motor.

And all but close the door but before they do Tel the Pin must ask the plod for a fag or a kiss because the plod then opens the door again. Also  note the Minions are letting it be know that this isn’t real via the letters on the bus roof.

Also note the reference to Mormons who have been mentioned in quite a few Chimp articles of late.

And as for the bird? Well I don’t know if it means anything or not but it certainly doesn’t look real to me.

Which leaves me one more batch of screenshots to show you from yet another video.

A bit trippy that.

Nevertheless, that just leaves me to tell you that Sick Benefit Part 3 is now available as an eBook and can be found HERE for UK customers. And HERE for our American cousins.

And whatever you do, please leave a review… Or do you want me to be poor for ever and ever amen?

Just askin’.