The Third One

So sadly there had been an unfortunate, violent, breakage, from this brilliant individual, Undergraduate Ron, whose idea for a fire alarm was copied by the Heriot-Watt University lecturer……who was to then have a nervous breakdown on being asked about reverse-wave propagation, & why, all of a sudden, it wasn’t being taught when it had been taught routinely every previous year….The MI5 functionary moving into the bedsitting room between Ron and myself was rather destructive…..which I couldn’t believe and he……well…..I spoke to the functionary accidentally on the phone, Ron said he was then very unpleasant to Ron and Ron never wanted to see me again. 

And I therefore acquired another very big bedsit, in the Stockbridge area of Edinburgh. 

< I’m aware of possibly repeating myself a little……girlfriend jumbled these paragraphs up, giving me some extra work, an accident only The Age Of The Flash Drive could be responsible for >

Possibly meeting Colin Gajewski, former MI5 agent, left The Company (as MI5 is sometimes sardonically referred to) some time in 1984, so the newspaper mentions of odd deaths of Marconi scientists were yet to be part of his 1980s memories…..as he exited the offices of MI5, he decided to live in Germany for a while, specifically West Berlín, there for maybe six years.

He was a stocky, muscular guy serving vegan food in Edinburgh’s tiny Seeds restaurant for a few years from early 1993 on, he would finish serving food around 2200hours, and on my nights off we’d head for a nearby bar called The Southsider….we never got too drunk, by the way, we both liked Grölsch. There was a fad for 5% being the perfect amount of 🍸 alcohol in those years in social drinking, there were newspaper articles about it……as per Grölsch, I remember consciously absolutely making sure I only drank 5% drinks, if Grölsch wasn’t around. So in the autumn of 1993 we became accidental drinking partners, though I was amazed at what he said had been his work….5 minutes after the Argentine navy’s light cruiser, the ARA Belgrano, was sunk by two torpedoes shot at it by the UK submarine called HMS Conqueror……during the Falkland Islands war in 1982….Colin Gajewski was the first person Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher shouted at, she yelled “Get the telex boy, get the telex boy!!!” to send messages about it.
Eventually we talked about brain screens, though by then, it was three years after meeting Edward Bailey, former BBC TV cameraman……
“……who had embezzled and embezzled throughout his life and always got out of jail 💀 in a few days…..”, his daughter had said to me, talking to me in Seeds, the watering hole of my crowd…..so occasionally all of us will have been served by Colin. 

He & I, in 1993, were sitting drinking our Grölsches…..in 1982, £500 after all deductions came into his bank per week…..in 2021, £1,722 would have to come into your bank per week to feel as well off. Regarding my high-school period girlfriend’s “brain screen” of 1972, the CIA’s gobbledygook tendency had mutated “brain screen” into “remote neural monitoring”, so one day we were discussing the phenomenon of eavesdropping on distant people’s thoughts. 

“Something you can do, if it’s bothering you, is acquire around 30 to 40 feet of copper wire, it’s best with metal bedsprings, coz you attach one end to a metal bedspring, the other end to another metal bedspring…..obviously slashing through the cloth…..you might find they don’t like that. If they’re watching you.”
I did think ‘they’ were: in short, I bought that wire. 
Possibly the BBC brain screen personnel watched me setting this up, curious themselves, exploiting the brain screen information gathering method. With the copper wire all linked in, I then lay on the bed in Edinburgh….
……and TV technicians in London…..

…..think of a Jew’s Harp, have you heard what is called a Jew’s Harp, dear reader? Or if you have heard your kids muck about with combs with paper wrapped round them, put that to their lips or teeth and say stuff through it……?


As if spoken through a Jew’s Harp……I lay down on the bed, there was a sudden explosion of expletives inside my mind, in London accents….except the vowels lengthened out, stretched out……a bouncy, springey, sort of nasal nyoinyoinyoinyoinyoi quality came into those London males yelling fuuuuuck, wot the fuck izee fuyuyuyuckin’ dooyooyooyooin’……fuu-yu-yu-yu-yu-yuck…..all the vowels of all those words sort of stretched out in the air, it would be an image of several wires elasticating into twenty times their original lengths……..
…..buuuut……the BBC brain 🧠 screen crew twiddled their dials in London and turned the wire length into the opposite……suddenly my entire body was peppered with stings…..have you ever grasped an old transistor radio by its antenna, which is 🔭 telescoped out……then music you’re wanting to hear becomes louder…..? 
So in Edinburgh, i heard a guy swearing 🤬 in a London office, through two-way mind-link, a guy losing his temper in London sounded in my mind in Edinburgh. 

Is the reader beginning to get the picture of what technological development this is about, is it very confusing?

Did my fans in the BBC enjoy an Edinburgh performance of Ligeti’s Horn Trio with me last night?


I will have experimented with the copper wire sometime in the year 1994, the year of one of the more bizarre of MI5’s obvious exterminations, announced by the UK media as dying through a silly masturbatory sex game, tying wire round his neck a la Michael Hutchence, having fun, as you do.
Steven Milligan was found lying dead, naked across his kitchen table, wearing socks, a black bin liner wrapped round his head, & a piece of 🍊 orange in his mouth…..
Another MI5 functionary had said to me many years earlier, “We work out really weird sounding deaths so that the public will believe what the papers said it was, and when we say we killed him to people who we want to control, they’ll believe that…..there’s a particular area about which we want to cause absolute terror, if they show the slightest impression they might blab….”
And soon after THAT (the 1994 Milligan incident) TV newscasters like John Humphries & Moira Stuart were given £150,000 each to never ever talk about their jobs again….at the time BBC personnel in the public eye were ordered to shut up, by means of the “£150,000”, some excusive rubbish was cited about British security, by way of affairs in Afghanistan 🇦🇫……I can’t say I remember that security excuse in detail, I just know that I thought at the time…..security is not about leaks on Afghanistan, it’s about the bank of brain screens in certain secret rooms in BBC buildings……but basically, the bottom line is…..five BBC employees complained of the unpleasantness of the bosses who verbally addressed them, two of them famous newscasters in the UK…..& they tried to disguise the fact these bosses were trying to hide that from the public…..despite it being reported……they live in hope.

And I have two secret room stories involving the BBC……