Biba boy...

The near future....

What can a poor boy do....?

A Woolf in wolf's clothing...

[DRAFT #5: IN CONFIDENCE]
Dear Home Secretary,

I write further to my appointment as Chair of the Inquiry into the institutional response to child sex abuse. I am honoured to be the chairman of the independent panel inquiry into how institutions – both private and state - have failed victims of child abuse in the United Kingdom over many years. This is a major inquiry and I am determined that no organisation will be out of bounds and that no questions will go unasked.

 There has been media speculation that my contacts with Lord and Lady Brittan might affect my impartiality. I do not accept this but I set out below, to the best of my recollection the nature of my contact and relationship with Lord and Lady Brittan so that you may be satisfied that neither my impartiality towards them, nor that of the Inquiry Panel as a whole is compromised.

 I have had a house in London on the same street as the Brittan family since 2004 but, as the houses round our way are all fairly substantial, it’s still a fair walk, which is why I am, in any case, usually driven there by one of my staff. Factoring in the time it takes to reverse the limousine into the Brittan’s secure underground parking unit, you could quite feasibly have got the tube to Pimlico, Elephant & Castle or somewhere equally ghastly just as quickly, so I think that our proximity as neighbours is being somewhat overstated by my critics.

 I was first introduced to Lady Brittan through a third party. I subsequently met Lord Brittan in a personal capacity when I invited Lord and Lady Brittan to a dinner party at my residence on 9 January 2008. From recollection there were six people present and, if memory serves, I’m pretty sure that it was him because the leather mask is fairly distinctive. Leon assures me that it has often come in useful whenever he’s needed – for reasons of national security, presumably – to disguise his true identity from the constabulary.

The Brittans hosted two dinner parties at their residence, which I was invited to and attended on 10 November 2009 and 15 February 2012. From my recollection there were no other guests who attended. But for the blindfold I was wearing for most of the evening, I would be able to give you a more definitive account of those present. I have met Lady Brittan on a small number of occasions for coffee from memory. The last occasion recorded was on 23 April 2013 at Lady Brittan’s residence. We met because Lady Brittan was interested in knowing what was going on in the City of London. Obviously, I was of little help to her on that score, but we had a lovely natter all the same.

In my former capacity as the Senior Alderman below the Chair in the City of London Corporation and also as Lord Mayor, I have sat (sometimes beneath and sometimes actually on the chair) since the autumn of 2012 on an advisory panel called TheCityUK. Lord Brittan is a member of that advisory panel (what *isn’t* he a member of!!), representing UBS as I understand. TheCityUK represents the UK-based financial and related professional services industry. They make representations on its behalf, producing evidence of its importance to the wider national economy, and they seek to, and indeed usually do, influence policy in order to drive competitiveness and to create jobs, lasting economic disparity and social exclusion throughout the UK.

Lady Brittan and I were both judges for the Drag Awards in July 2014 which celebrates Community Transgender programmes. It recognises businesses and public offices that go above and beyond their core work to make a significant and positive impact on the regeneration of their local communities’ wardrobe, hosiery and make up options. The 2014 awards took place on 1 October 2014. Lady Brittan was one of the panel, which I chaired, for judging the awards; the panel met once on 14th July 2014.Lady Brittan did not attend the awards ceremony as she had lent Leon her favourite stole for the occasion – a shame as she had helped to vote herself runner up in the over 50s Diva section and was also highly commended in the dressage.

The Lord Mayor of the day and the City of London Corporation host a number of annual and other banquets and dinners. A significant number of guests from a wide cross-section of paedophile life, often in the hundreds, are invited to these events. Lord and Lady Brittan would have attended some of these dinners. As an Alderman I too have attended some of them but I do not recall engaging with Lord or Lady Brittan at all, or certainly in any substantial way, at these dinners when they have attended – as would be perfectly normal for people who lived in the same street as one another and therefore could (and do) see each other socially all the time.

 In October 2005, Lord Brittan spoke at a conference hosted at the Law Society in London at which I was present in my role as vice – (yes, I know - how apt!) president of the Society. Given the passage of time I cannot recollect whether or not I spoke to Lord Brittan at that event. Probably not, as it’s harder than you’d imagine communicating through the carrier bag when you also have an orange in your mouth. I have had no further social contact with Lord and Lady Brittan since 19 May 2013 and have not spoken to or communicated through sign language with either of them in person or by telephone since, apart from the odd ribald exchange of texts, obviously!

 Other matters:

 I should mention one other issue flowing from my role as an Alderman since 2007 in the City of London Corporation. In my capacity as Lord Mayor my steward has been Colin Tucker, a former solicitor from Edinburgh. In 1989 Mr. Tucker was prosecuted for fraud and acquitted. He was later struck off as a solicitor. In 1983 he was involved in an inquiry into an allegation of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice in Scotland, conducted by WA Nimmo Smith QC and JD Friel, Regional Procurator Fiscal of North Strathclyde. The inquiry, which concerned allegations that senior figures in the Edinburgh legal fraternity, including judges, were engaged in sexual relations with under age boys, found no evidence of any wrongdoing whatsoever. (The jammy bugger probably got one of his neighbours to conduct the inquiry!!) I can confirm that I have never discussed this issue with Mr. Tucker – who, his fraudulence and propensity to perverting the course of justice notwithstanding, is a thoroughly good egg - and was unaware of his prior history until this matter was brought to my attention at the interview shortlisting stage.

 As you will appreciate, in the course of a long professional career and during my time in various public offices I have inevitably encountered a very wide range of paedophiles, some well-known, who have held senior positions in business, commerce, the arts, the charitable sector, some even attaining the giddy heights of being asked to perform Britain’s entry to the European Song Contest as well as politics. I am clear that to know someone and to meet them occasionally, even on an informal basis, is not the same as being a close friend or sharing their views – even less, their sexual preferences, of which, after all, who am I to be the judge?

As such my limited encounters with Lord and Lady Brittan will not in any way influence the manner in which I approach the work of the panel. I am acutely aware of the scrutiny this inquiry will rightly face and the need for the panel members and me to be utterly beyond reproach. If I had the slightest doubt in my ability to remain fair and even-handed towards Leon at all times I would have said so at the outset and would not have accepted this appointment. This is a deeply serious response to the horrific series of events he is responsible for covering up and the many victims deserve to feel their interests are being served, even whilst we are busy whitewashing his various wrongdoings.

Yours sincerely,

'Urbane' track by track - 08_'Velma'...

Probably the only conventionally structured and definitely the sole pre-written song on this collection, this one has been around for quite some time. It mutated out of a very, very old song called 'My wheelchair' which was an exceptionally callow attempt at dealing with a very difficult and sensitive subject. The first draft of this song was called 'Carry on', which I always thought was the obvious but still a very weak title. The idea of using the 'Velma' conceit as a title came very late on. There are earlier versions with an arrangement very close to Simon & Garfunkel's 'The only living boy in New York' which had a lovely feel but were, in terms of tempo and sound quality, always all over the place. This last version is perhaps the most polished piece of work I've ever done, but hopefully that won't distract too much from the song's wheelchair-using narrator. A very long time ago I read a book - More than human - by a guy called Theodore Sturgeon. It's about a sort of homo superior group who have a gestalt consciousness. One of the characters is unable to communicate externally but is a happy and functional part of the gestalt. It's been fundamental in shaping my view of some disabilities. Just because it can't be made evident to us, we should not assume that there is not a vivid and rich interior life being experienced. This has always seemed self-evident to me as so much of the creative process is an internal summoning up of material that, ultimately, only the iceberg tip of which will become manifest to others. I feel very strongly about our societal hypocrisy toward the disabled. You can probably be put in prison nowadays - or at least nationally shamed by Sky TV, which is perhaps an even worse fate as you won't be guaranteed a steady supply of illegal stimulants to help you through it - for making a joke at their expense. But to know what we really think of them as a society, you just need to look at the London tube map - those sporadic, grudging little wheelchair symbols and imagine trying to plot a journey to your intended destination around those. Or look at footage of the police manhandling them when they protest about having their benefits slashed so that the wealthiest 1 percent can pay even less tax than they already do. Or read people like Richard Dawkins who would without hesitation or quibble of conscience (I'm assuming here that the man does have one) condemn any foetus he considered marginally beneath his self-formulated threshold of 'normality' or 'viability' to be terminated with extreme prejudice. The hegemony of the humourless was never going to be a barrel of laughs, ws it? But sadly we live increasingly in a world in which what you say has far greater heft than what you do. Talk the right talk and you can literally get away with murder. But I'm pleased with this one because I think it makes it's point sensitively and the key line of the song (for me) - 'and what do you care Tony Blair - or whatever your name is' - came quite naturally and its import crept up even on me, rather than feeling like a contrivance. I think it broadens out the song and makes the metaphor of disability as powerlessness a much more trenchant observation on the relationship between all of us and those by whom we are governed. So, basically, it's track 07 rephrased with perhaps a little more subtlety.

'Urbane' track by track - 07_ Dead babies...

This was a late one that came together very quickly and works, I think, surprisingly well. Musical and titular influences respectively from Talking Heads and Martin Amis - abiding favourites both. This is a rare occasional piece, provoked by the undercover police who took the names of dead children and insinuated themselves into the hearts and beds of women involved with environmental and animal rights groups. We already know the contempt with which our governors hold the environment and animals. We will soon, hopefully with the supposedly imminent inquiry into child abuse, realise the extent to which they have historically despised our children (and I'm sure still do). This shameful episode lets us know pretty squarely how contemptuous they are of us, the citizens they're supposed to represent. So this song is just a gentle reminder to them that the feeling is mutual. (Parental advisory on this one: there's quite a bit of swearing on it, so for heaven's sake don't play it in front of your parents....)

'Urbane' track by track - 06 Madonna @ 80...

A song about getting older - and who more poignant an example of the rigours of the ageing process than Ms. Ciccone, here imagined getting it on down at Studio 54 well into past her meals on wheels delivery. Cracked skin, fading memory but she can still squeeze herself into a Gaultier eye-popper whimple brassiere and a pair of 12 inch heels. Well, we need a bit of light relief before the themes on 'side two' - the corrupt nature of the ruling elite, disability, child abuse and global nuclear extinction - kick in. The normal wisdom is that you bung all the 'hits' at the beginning and then the rest of the album can get on with it. Hopefully, if there's enough good material left over, the remainder won't be too disappointing an experience for the listener. I'm not sure that I don't prefer the second half of this one - but that may be as much through the weakness of the first five songs. Maybe depth and accessibility don't make good bedfellows. Anyway, it's out of my hands now and down to you, the listener. And time.

'Urbane' track by track - 05_ Brits in exile...

This song was inspired by last year's holiday in Greece. We go to a place called Fiscardo which is a (now) rather poncified fishing village right at the top of the island of Cephalonia. It's a beautiful place - lots of orginal Venetian houses massed around a stunning natural harbour, loads of pine forests spreading over the surrounding hills. The place we stay at is a lovely old three storey house with about 8 rooms, right on the waterfront. There's a big terrace at the rear (from the street) of the building so if you're lucky enough to have one of the middle floor rooms, you can just stroll out through your french doors, glide past a few sozzled bathers crashed out on their sun loungers and dive into the harbour and watch the squadrons of swallows flitting and soaring about above you. We've been there many times and it feels rather like a second home, so I can understand people feeling somewhat proprietorial about the place. But last year there were a group of three senior British folk - two ladies and one gent - there who really did seem to think that they owned the place. They were perfectly nice, but there's just something about some British people when they're on holiday - as if they bring some of our normal weather induced gloom to even the sunniest spots. They'd venture out occasionally but would spend most days getting quietly sozzled on the terrace, a little slice of rainy old home amongst the majesty of the rugged haze of the Ionian Islands. Musically I'm indebted to last year's Marbella Sessions compilation. I don't usually listen to a lot of dance music but this stuff is perfect sun/sea/sand holiday listening - quite transcendental in fact, when consumed with light flickering on water in the daszzling sunshine. There's a cultural debt too - to TOWIE, which is where I probably heard the Marbella stuff in the first place. I love the show - no idea why, I just do. So I suppose lurking behind those old gits on the terrace are the bright young things of Essex, bronzed and eternal, also banging 'em back in the brilliant summer sun.

'Urbane' track by track - 04_Hipster on skidrow...

Great thanks and accreditation are due to Mr. Caspar William Charles Sewell on this one. He took what was basically an amorphous whine of atonal strings and a vocal and gave musical flesh to the song's otherwise disembodied narrative. Without his contribution, the song would still be as badly in need of help as its narrator. Thank you.