IN early-May 2001, as my beloved Crystal Palace recovered from financial administration and needed to win its final two games at Portsmouth and Stockport in order to avoid slipping out of the second tier of English football for the first time since 1977, my late son and I arrived at London’s Waterloo Station in our red and blue paraphernalia for the two-hour journey down to Fratton Park on the south coast.
In order to reach the correct portion of the train, we had to walk through something like eight carriages and were in such a rush that neither of us took much notice of the other passengers. As we finally sat down in one of the emptier compartments and I began to recover my bearings, I realised that the solitary figure sitting to our left was none other than former Coventry City goalkeeper, nationwide sports presenter and infamous ‘conspiracy-theorist,’ David Icke. I do happen to believe in Fate, so was not too surprised that out of hundreds of commuters the gods had seen fit to deposit us beside one of the country’s leading critics of the global establishment.
Naturally, I introduced myself to our unlikely companion and he kindly invited us to fill the vacant seats that lay directly opposite. David was travelling down to catch the ferry across to the Isle of Wight, which he had made his home several years previously, so for the next two hours he and I discussed everything from Portsmouth Football Club, where his son was training at the academy, to the perils of the banking industry. David – who, ten years earlier, had misguidedly declared himself to be ‘the son of God’ on the country’s leading chat show – had just published his new book, Children of the Matrix, and was busy fending off sarcastic claims that his off-the-wall ideas about the upper echelons of the British aristocracy being comprised of a ruthless coterie of shape-shifting lizards was another good reason to have him committed to a lunatic asylum.
Personally, I have always taken David’s thoughts on that particular issue with a pinch of salt, and felt that he was unable to satisfy some of the counter-arguments that I put to him during the journey, but when I began discussing the fact that some people have tried to insinuate that he is using these reptilian ideas as a convenient smokescreen for what is essentially a world that labours under the domination of Jewish supremacism, he insisted that the ethnicity of these people means very little. As you might expect, I strongly disagreed with this analysis but was utterly convinced that David does not have a single ‘anti-Jewish’ bone in his body and that his main concern is for the people who find themselves on the receiving end of international finance itself.
As I bid farewell to my new friend, I was left with the impression that David is a very warm and sincere individual. In 2017 he was ferociously attacked by the Campaign Against Antisemitism (CAA), simply for continuing to expose the “Zionist Rothschilds”. Despite David’s noble intentions, the fact that this family of parasites and leeches is Jewish is enough for his detractors to call for his prosecution under British law. Incidentally, the CAA is part of the wider Zionist lobby and spends much of its time vilifying various pro-Palestinian activists in much the same way. All with the backing of the British State.
Regardless what you make of David Icke’s ideas, it is indisputable that we share many of same enemies and he needs our support. Oh, and by the way, Palace won both games and managed to stay up on the final day of the season. Now let’s make sure that David survives in the same way.
