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The Jew Church Ladies
Sheppard’s account of his last (hopefully) time in jail
Part 1: The Fate of Heretics
Published in Heritage and Destiny magazine, issue 97, July-Aug. 2020
Being imprisoned during the torrid summer of 2018, I wrote notes with a view to sharing the lessons learned. There were many interesting events and not a few revelations. The account will also give an insight into life at the sharp end of Britain’s anarcho-tyranny.
I found myself in jail at the same time as Jez Turner, organiser of the London Forum. He got twelve months and I, nine. Certainly, nationalists are a prime target of the Establishment but there are plenty of other men being unduly persecuted. Actually while I was in jail a proposal was made that custodial sentences for women be practically abolished, while now the police and courts seem intent on incarcerating as many men as they possibly can. Many are saying that due to progressive changes in evidence requirements and so forth, there are record numbers of innocent men in prison. The proportion is perforce difficult to quantify, but the CPS (Crown Prosecution Service) is boasting an 83% conviction rate, which must surely be unprecedented.
While there will be hundreds of innocent men in jail, there are countless more who have surely not done enough to warrant imprisonment. Sometimes the only transgression was offending female sensibilities. The pursuit of “historical sex crimes” is, in effect, applying retroactive law, and men can be convicted on the flimsiest of evidence. The old rule, “Rather ten guilty men go free than one innocent man be imprisoned” is a distant memory.
Not surprisingly, in prison one tends to hear tall tales but some of the claims of innocence I heard were credible and three in particular were. I shared a cell for a few days with Arthur, a genial businessman, nightclub owner and sailor whom the police had turned against and put into the position of having to prove his innocence. This is not how it is supposed to work. Due to the absence of financial records from over a decade previously, scattered around several countries, he got a three-year sentence for fraud.
Another was Spike, who kept a collection of knives in a display case. His story was that he went out to his car one day to find it surrounded by armed police and himself under arrest. His new girlfriend had bundled the knives into a carrier bag, put the bag under the passenger seat and tipped-off the police. This resulted in an 18-month sentence for carrying the knives around. The most notable feature of his case was that, despite the circumstances, the prosecution had asked for each of the seven knives to be treated as a separate offence, amounting to an eight-year sentence. Fortunately this attempt failed, but it illustrates the immoderate vehemence of the CPS, which was repeated in my own experience.
Then there was ‘John the Evangelist’ who was likeable enough but became notorious as a bore on the prison yard. John was eighty-odd and a proper Bible-thumping evangelical lay-preacher. The precise circumstances were never explored but blackmail was the offence. The salient detail was that his accuser had relented and tried to withdraw his testimony, but with the permission of the judge the prosecution had carried on regardless, hence John ended up in jail with me. John was interesting for the underlying theme to emerge from my experiences, the religious state of mind, and religious mania in particular.
John was incapable of looking at the world except through the lens of his religious fundamentalism. Attempts to discuss matters logically with him were quite exhausting, because he would invariably revert to some aspect of his faith. Seemingly his capacity for rational thought was discarded as soon as he was reminded of some Bible verse or religious ideal. Then reason and even common sense was put aside. Yet he denied being religious, saying that his “personal relationship with Jesus” was not such.
Also worthy of mention is a bunch of lads from Chester, ordinary young men with jobs and no previous record, who received stiff sentences for defending themselves on being charged by a mob of York football supporters. One, Tom, got two years for throwing a single punch.
Something I pondered about in my cell was the issue of temptation, and how much responsibility for modern crime lies with the State. I remember seeing, at a Candour book table at a London Forum meeting once, £30 or so in notes and change left on the table while Colin Todd was away. I have seen similar sights at church activities. I mentioned it to Colin when he returned and said that no matter how much he felt he could trust the meeting attendees, it’s wrong to tempt people. One could say that life has enough temptations without adding to the burden. Incidentally, Colin has “done time” himself and this vignette illustrates what a criminal he is!
To elaborate on this briefly, to prevent any misunderstanding: honest people project their nature onto others, and assume they are also honest. So by being so trusting, in actuality Colin was demonstrating his honesty.
The environment the government has created has made drug abuse and crime inevitable. Place one thousand unskilled young men in a situation where due to feminism and mass immigration they cannot find honest jobs, while largely due to that influx from overseas there is ready availability of heroin and other potent drugs, it is inevitable that some of the thousand will succumb. There was this thought-provoking encounter while I was briefly at HMP Hull.
Richard was an elderly prisoner who was obviously having difficulty coping with life in jail, and indeed life in general. Standing in a medicine queue one day he threw himself against a wall, sobbing “I can’t cope with it” or something like. Although we were friendly and had several talks, one time I told him that there were many who were worse off than he and that he should grow a spine. We were chatting on the landing one day and he said almost under his breath that he wished there was a pill he could take to end it all.
I fell to wondering: what if there were a dispenser on the landing, where anyone who was feeling depressed and who had had enough could just help themselves to a pill, to swallow it and drift painlessly off into oblivion? After six months’ ready access to the dispenser, what proportion of prisoners would have taken the easy way out? It’s usual to experience waves of despondency in prison, and I suspect the proportion would be quite high.
If the dispenser contained heroin, the proportion would be higher still. Go out on a high! The point is, if you put temptation in front of a lot of people, some are bound to succumb.
Then there is no small matter of social ethos. Much of the crime would not take place if young men had a sense of purpose, pride in themselves and a perception that society was equitable, perhaps not always, but generally. That our leaders were honest and genuinely working for the good of our nation. As it is, I suspect that much of the drug use is a kind of self-medication, to assuage the psychological onslaughts which men in particular constantly endure.
There are other factors of course. Nowadays men are under the greatest burden to control their instincts, exacerbated by an environment where women are granted extraordinary licence. In Victorian times, children had to sit and keep completely quiet, a difficult task for a child but one which instilled self-discipline. Standing in a meal queue one day I discussed the difficulties of self-control with another prisoner and he admitted “That’s why I’m here.” I could say the same. Everything, but everything, in contemporary society acts to increase the burden on males. Indeed, my conclusion was that the female strategy is to shift all her burdens onto the shoulders of males.
A proportion of the inmates in our prisons are mentally ill. Mental illness in the form of religious mania became the over-arching feature of my whole experience.
Some prisoners had obsessive-compulsive disorders (OCD) of one sort or another. A common one was a phobia about dirt, which involved obsessive cleaning. A reusable cleaning cloth, capable of being washed and re-used many times, would be thrown away after a single use. Similarly plasticware and sheets were often unnecessarily discarded. I thought of the place as a waste factory. If I recall, the figure concerning HMP Armley was that the jail produced twelve tons of rubbish each week. Prison is a waste of time, a waste of human energy, a complete waste of everything.
One night I was on an induction wing, in a single cell, and I dreamt that I was on a top bunk in a shared cell and that my cell-mate was standing beside the bunk giving me a really hard time. I delivered several downward blows to him before waking up to discover that I had been hitting a plastic chair. This is relevant to the case of Brian Thomas, who in 2009 strangled his wife while they were sleeping in a holiday caravan, and was eventually acquitted of murder. Expert testimony was called to attest that he could have strangled his wife in his sleep. Perhaps a relocation to an unfamiliar environment makes this more likely to occur. I talked to another prisoner about this and he told me that he sometimes attacked his pillow in his sleep, and on at least one occasion his wife had woken up with bruises.
A psychological mystery was solved by my conversations with Craig, an ordinary man who operated mechanical diggers by trade. I noticed that his fingernails were badly bitten, which seemed incongruous with a construction worker of beefy proportions. I have bitten my fingernails all my life, so with few other academic distractions I set out to find some feature common to both of us to identify its origin. It turned out that Craig had an argumentative mother who loved to pick fights and have rows. The only common factor between us was that we had both witnessed arguments between our parents up to the age of three. This, apparently, is enough to engender a life-long legacy of nail-biting.
Another condition is maladjustment, but this is more general and I made no discovery of a specific origin, if indeed there is one. A well-adjusted person likes himself, is “happy in his own skin” and tends to remember the good times and forget the bad. Hence people think of the “good old times” and have a rose-tinted view of the past. (I shall pass over the fact that the past really was better in many ways.) In maladjustment however, this is reversed: happy events are forgotten while unpleasant memories dominate. This can result in a sort of psychological self-injurious behaviour, as painful memories are constantly replayed.
We can fit this into an evolutionary scenario, to understand how our social norms evolved. Suppose, in our pre-history, a troubled and troublesome individual drew the attention of the village elders who, searching for an origin, examined his background. The social ill was identified and a solution implemented, to reduce the occurrence of similar disturbed individuals in the future. However, the equivalent of the village elders today are social workers and probation officers, predominantly women, all of whom are locked into the official doctrine of “equality” and so, divorced from reality, incapable of solving anything.
During a meal time at Hull once I got into trouble when another prisoner, working behind the servery counter, asked me “Are you a racist?” and I answered tactlessly. To his great credit he confronted me about it shortly afterward and the issue was resolved. A few days later, standing in a movement queue, a prisoner who had obviously heard of the earlier incident asked me the question again. I told him “I’m ethnocentric.” “What’s that?” he said. “I think that Whites should stick up for Whites.” This is the long-sought, proper response to this question. In any event, everyone around was keenly listening, and apparently the answer was deemed acceptable. Of course there’s no sin in being ethnocentric, it’s the natural and normal state.
In our daily lives there are countless graces and small considerations which only British people understand, but which we take for granted. The following encounter reminded me of Kipling’s poem, ‘The Stranger.’ Passing through Hull another time I was banged up with a young “chav” who had some Spice, the new drug that’s going the rounds and causing havoc (it’s highly addictive and definitely to be avoided). When you express a scientific curiosity, and have no interest in taking it yourself, other prisoners can be very forthcoming and he showed it to me, enabling me to see it in its native form for the first time. A few minutes later I said “I don’t particularly want to be kept up all night with you rambling on while on that stuff.” Thus we reached a mutual agreement that it would be best if we got ourselves into separate cells, preferably singles. This is difficult to achieve, with the level of overcrowding that exists. “Leave it to me” he said.
He rang the cell bell and when the officer appeared he was practically assailed with a story about how he couldn’t stand to stay in this cell with me another minute and if he does he’s going to become violent. I can’t remember the whole script but it was a fine performance and shortly we were relocated. The next day he came up to me to stress that of course he didn’t mean the things he’d said, don’t think I did. I assured him that of course I bore no ill-will towards him, that “You did good.” Note that this consideration, that he did not wish to sour relations between us, is by a criminal in prison. I am sure it is not indigenous to many countries, or not to anything like the same degree. Social cohesion is a fragile thing, and one of the first to be affected when non-whites are added to the mix.
Although the jails I was in were about 95% White, the influence of the non-white minority was disproportionate, noticeably by the noise they made and attention they demanded. The capacity of the wing I spent most of my time on was 80, and while five or less inmates would have required halal meals, such meals made up a fifth of the available food. It has apparently become normal practice for prison chaplains to stand-in for each other, with the result than an imam in full garb would open my cell door offering me chaplaincy services on behalf of the Church of England. It was insane. Some of the people now in our country regard Whites as prey, and White girls in particular as if they are meat to be devoured. Visiting a friend’s cell one day I saw this attitude starkly in a Brazilian prisoner, who revealed that he was the lightest-skinned of his family. Generally the darker the skin, the earlier they reach sexual maturity.
I told more than one fellow inmate, “We’re just the low-hanging fruit. The real criminals are in government.” Most were holocaust believers of course but to a few I could explain the situation in a very apt context. Imagine, I would say, that it is the 1940s, Britain was losing the war and Russia is invading from the north. All the prisons in Scotland are being evacuated southward and this prison, intended for 1,000 prisoners, now contains 5,000, with massive overcrowding. The prisoners from the north are bringing lice and typhus with them, and on top of that, the Russians have control of the air and are gunning and bombing everything that moves. It is impossible to get food and medical supplies to the prison.
As the war came to its close, Germany was a complete mess. Everything broke down. The vast majority of those who died in the camps died from typhus and starvation at the end of the war.
Belief in the “Six Million” was apparently the precursor of the equality religion, and it has displaced Christianity. The parallels between Christianity and Holocaustianity are almost perfect: Hitler is the Devil, Auschwitz is Calvary and Jews are the wholly innocent, Sacrificial Lamb. Cathedrals are appearing all over the Western world, only now they are called Holocaust museums.