David Abrahams – Serial liar

David Abrahams, alias David Martin was unknown to me at the beginning of this week, and yet it appears that he has been a busy little bee indeed. At least where deception is concerned. A bee of lies.

It turns out that when David Abrahams was trying to become Labour MP for Richmond in 1992, he made a point of introducing the selection committee to his wife and son.

A divorcee, Anthea Bailey, told a local newspaper she and her 11-year old son had posed as Mr Abrahams’ family. This was done, she said, as a “business arrangement” so he could create “the right impression”.

A press statement was apparently also issued at the time of his selection, reportedly stating how he lived with his wife and son – but he had never been married.

That business arrangement involved Mr Abrahams paying off Mrs Bailey’s overdraft, and paying her son’s private school fees. He also failed to mention that he was going through the courts at the time, under the name David Martin, though he was eventually found innocent of the charge of illegally evicting a tenant.

He even seems to be lying about how old he is. He claims to have been born in 1954, but records suggest that he was in fact born in 1944.

His duplicitous behaviour seems to be contagious. It is remarkable how many Labour politicians seem to have no idea who he is, as if he came down in the last shower. A shower… of money.

Stephen Pollard in the Spectator remarks:From 1992-95 I worked for the Fabian Society. Our meetings were attended by a variety of people: students and academics, hacks and Labour Party members, politicos and wannabe politicos. The presence of someone such as Gordon Brown at one of these meetings was not in the least bit unusual, nor that of any other senior party figure. As an affiliated part of the Labour Party, our job in opposition was to provoke thought about the party’s policies.

One of the regular – indeed, one of the most assiduous – attendees at those meetings was David Abrahams. He would mix, as would everyone in that milieu, with backbenchers, front benchers, NEC members and Shadow Cabinet members.

Many of those people are now ministers. Others are Cabinet members, some very senior. It is possible – just – that when they say they have no idea who David Abrahams is, or cannot recall ever meeting him, they are telling the truth. It is, after all, possible that there are people in the country who have never heard of, say, Gordon Brown. Possible, yes; but very, very unlikely.

The obvious question is WHY? Why did Mr Abrahams go to such lengths to conceal his identity?
What was he trying to gain? Forgiveness for another run at Parliament, perhaps, or an honour, or maybe he is one of those people who likes to believe that he has influence with important people. Maybe some sort of property dodge, or lenient planning oversight? I doubt he did it just to get a plum seat at Blair’s leaving speech. Whatever the reason, it is clear that his insidious roots have spread throughout the upper echelons of the Labour party, and it’s going to take some digging to shift them.

It’s coming out tonight that some of the people, in whose name Mr Abrahams donated money, had no idea that this was being done. Janet Dunn, a lifelong Tory, had £25,000 sent in her name. She is the wife of Anthony Dunn, who has done land consultancy for Mr Abrahams in the past, and knew absolutely nothing about the matter until this week. She is not best pleased, calling the situation “disgusting”.

The Crown Prosecution Service seems to be taking an interest.

David Abrahams admits to knowingly breaking the law.

Labour general secretary Peter Watt has resigned following the revelation that a property developer made donations to the party via two colleagues.
David Abrahams, who gave more than £400,000 through associates, said Mr Watt’s resignation was “sad”.

Mr Watt told a meeting of officers of Labour’s National Executive Committee he had known about the arrangement.

Under the law, those making donations on behalf of others must give details of who is providing the money.

Mr Abrahams and Mr Watt thought it was perfectly legal to channel donation through third partys. How utterly naive can you get? If that was allowed, then any foreign power that felt like it could buy our whole political system.

Then later he said this:

Mr Abrahams insisted that Mr Ruddick and Mrs Kidd were fully aware of the destination of the cheques they signed. He said he objected to the requirements for major donors’ identities to be made public, introduced by Tony Blair in 2000 as part of his campaign to “clean up politics”.

“If you make donations to a political party, you are hounded in a way that you are not if you make them to other worthwhile causes.”

Oh, you object to THAT law. Why didn’t you say so? It’s quite alright to break the law if you object to it.

I, for instance, object to the law that prevents me from throwing you out of this window.

So you chose to break the law, because you objected to a requirement brought in by the person you were giving the money to. You knowingly committed a serious crime. Not liking the law is not a very good defense, as thousands of cannabis smokers find out every year, but then again, you’re probably a whole lot richer than they are.

Send him to the Tower.

Poor Barney.

Harpo asked in comments:

What is your avatar supposed to be? I can make out some ears!

Barney

It’s Barney! George W Bush’s long-suffering Scottish Terrier. Hate the dog-owner, love the dog.

Karl Rove once stated that “Barney is a lump”. Applying usual method of deciphering anything Rove says, we can assume that Barney is in fact a lovable ball of energy. And five times better a human-being than Rove or his master will ever be.

The Adventures of Mathias Brandt. Part 2.

For those who missed it, the insanity began here. If anyone else was subjected to the same sort of bizarre children’s stories I was (I’m looking at you, Enid Blyton!), they’ll know what I’m shooting for here.

Part 2. The plot thickens.

His wicked sitting ways were not restricted to chairs of course. He had wide-ranging tastes, and no snoozing small animal or childs toy left upon a couch was safe from being sat upon. He quickly became despised by the cats of Jollyton, who would hiss at him, from what they judged a safe distance, when he passed. Fortunately he was built for sitting, not speed.

The cooling of his social opportunities were not at all unexpected by the Professor. This was not the first, second, nor even twelvth town which he had visited, and he was sure he would have plenty more good sits in Jollyton before it’s exceptionaly forgiving denizens finally stopped letting him into their homes at all. But all was not well. He took great pride in his sitting, and was concerned that without regular practise of his skills he might become rusty, and so he resolved to visit the shop of Mr Knot the carpenter to buy some emergency chairs.
Continue reading The Adventures of Mathias Brandt. Part 2.

Black Rhinos murdered by morons.

This fills me with cold fury. From the BBC:

Efforts to save the black rhino from extinction have been dealt a blow by the killing of three adults who were part of a breeding programme in Zimbabwe.

For the past 20 years the family has been rearing the animals and returning them to the wild, but last week, in the dead of night, armed men in camouflage gear burst onto the site and shot dead all three adult females.

Not surprisingly, the shootings have caused deep alarm among conservation groups, not least because there have been a number of similar attacks in Zimbabwe this year.

One of them was just days away from giving birth. Her unborn calf died as well.

Black rhinos are sometimes shot by poachers, who sell their horns as dagger-handles or for use in Chinese medicine, but the Imire rhinos had recently been de-horned as a precaution, so they didn’t have any value to hunters.

They had no horns. They were worthless to poachers. How could anyone do such a horrible thing? They say it has to do with Zimbabwe’s land crisis, but Zimbabwe makes a great deal of what foreign money it does get from tourists who want to see the big African animals in the wild.

If this bothers you as much as it has bothered me, you can adopt a Black Rhino over at the WWF.
Would make a great christmas present for an animal-loving child, if you’re stuck for ideas.
Black Rhino

Trying out a new theme

I’m trying out a new theme. It has a lot more features than Tarski, and has an extra column, which is quite handy. I’m not sure if it doesn’t seem a little cluttered though.

What do you think? If this one doesn’t work out I can go back to the old one.

FKN News Headlines, 29th November 2007

Usual caveats apply. Extremely adult humour, and industrial strength opinions.