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A Judge must be dispassionate, separated from the emotion of the both the offender and the abused. He, she or they, are there to pass judgement based upon the law, but not to engage themselves with the drama and emotion of the court case. In fact, the worst judges are those who do wrap themselves in the emotion of the case before them and then pass judgements based, not on facts of evidence, but upon the temperature of their own emotions.

The worst kind of judge mixes their personal opinions together with their legal judgements and often make outrageous and inflammatory remarks in the process. The judge should not be required to give a personal reason for his judgements unless a higher court demands them. Judges who bend or break these rules are not fit to be judges and some mechanism of the higher courts ought to exist to remove them from their office if they do so.

It is the job of the advocate to translate the human feelings of the accused and victim into language that both the jury and the judge can understand within the context of their own frames of reference.

It is the job of society to demand laws and the job of politicians and judges to test if those laws are useful, practical, legal, desirable and necessary.

The left wing, with their deluded persona as champion of the victims, hate that judges are dispassionate. They want judges to be like them; dripping with emotional fury and raving against those who they selectively see as victimisers.

I used to go on TV and radio and into the press as a spokesman for male victims of abuse.

I had suffered that abuse and its aftermath. I know what it is like to be abused for hours at a time and randomly, behind closed doors, by someone who is not in control of their violence, hate and rage. I know about the cunning disguises of female abusers and how they can appear as victims within moments of the police knocking on the door. Sobbing pathetically, just minutes after raging and roaring like psychopathic beasts at their victims. [link]

I wanted to alert the world. Very few people were speaking up for male victims and I decided to try and do what I could to help them. I toured the TV and radio studios, I gave interviews to the press and talked at seminars. I was an amateur. I had no press training and I quickly learned that the press do not often help amateurs and they expect you to know how to handle yourself. I also learned that if the media do not want to think about what you are saying, they will use the fact that you are an amateur against you by manipulating you and trying to get you to tell their lies, instead of your truth.

One day I was asked to speak on the, "This Morning" show with Philip Schofield and Fern Britain. It was to prove to be a turning point in my life.

Part of the consequences of my abuse is that I have something called, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is a horrible and debilitating injury to the brain and mind.

Without warning, a whirlwind of extraordinarily powerful emotion can descend upon you; fogging up your thinking; paralysing it, while flooding your head with vivid moving images of the events and sounds you were witness to that caused the trauma.

When this typhoon hits you, you have no idea how you will react. You may freeze. You may rant uncontrollably. You may cry like a child or you may become silent and unable to hear or interact with people around you. You are trapped in a vivid internal movie in your head you cannot escape from until it stops. Often, waves of fury will strike you after the visions have gone and you have to battle these intense feelings while you are weak and shattered by the images you have just experienced.

Such a thing happened on that morning on live TV in front of millions.

I was nervous, of course, before I went in front of the cameras. I knew that I was going to say things most people prefer to ignore. I knew the show's, "Agony Aunt" was going to be there and I knew from watching the show before, that she was a typical lefty thinker and was not interested in truth, just her own narrow version of it. However, I believed the message was too important to be left to people like her and I was ready to fight the corner of the male abused if it became necessary, as it had so many times before in similar situations.

I was shown into the studio after what seemed like hours of waiting in the green room. I was 'miked' up and the camera swung onto me as I was introduced. To my right was Fern and Phil. To my left, the agony aunt.

Two women who might both be hostile, sitting so close we were touching. That was the trigger for the flashback that ripped into my mind and sent me to the cinema from hell in my head.

Even before the interview got properly under way I could feel the tension building within me. I began to shake and sweat. My mental focus wandered off and the images in my mind began to spark and stutter into life. I breathed deeply and fought to control what was happening. Sometimes that worked. On that day, it did not.

The voices of the people around me and the quite hustle of those behind the cameras and on the floor of the studio began to fade from view. I turned to look at Fern. She was speaking to me and looking at my arms. I could barely hear her voice. Her face swam in and out of focus as my mental vision filled with images of my abusers standing over me and screaming into my face. Their spittle spraying me. Their faces contorted by hate. Their fists clenched and their knuckles white under the hate within them.

I tried as hard as I knew how to hold onto what was going on in the studio. Another deep breath and with all the mental strength I had in me I forced myself to listen to Ferns words. She was asking me about my experiences but staring at my arms. I looked down at them and saw the scars there from the numerous suicide attempts after my abuse was finally over and the P.T.S.D first hit me and I thought I was going crazy.

I heard Fern say something about them and then she touched the scars on my right arm. At the moment of her touch I heard the 'Agony Aunt' (a revolting phrase) say, "He's gone into victim mode." She felt the need to prove she was an 'expert.'

After that, I heard no more except the sound of my abusers voices as they screamed their vile fury at me, day after day and month after month, for six and half years. I saw nothing but the amazingly real images in my mind of them leaning over me. Their punches. Slaps. The objects they hit me with and the knife I was stabbed with. Their spitting in my face and the endless tirade of insults and put downs that had finally broken me under the influence, I am told, of the constant adrenalin that ate away, like acid, at the nerve endings in my brain under the abuse.

I was in a state of full blown post traumatic stress and I was powerless to stop it.

When I came back to myself I was sobbing like a child, shaking like a leaf and being led from the studio. I had no memory of anything else and I felt a huge burden of shame for falling apart on live TV.

"What kind of a man are you?" I asked myself. "You have just blown it for thousands of male victims because you wimped out."

It was harsh, of course, but it was how I felt. Worse, I knew it was how all the men watching that show would be judging me. I was distraught.

The studio sent a female 'carer' to me in a display of ignorance and insensitivity that was mind blowing and she did a thoroughly professional job of pretending to give a damn, while hustling me out of the television studio to the waiting car.

As I thought about that incident for months afterward, certain realisations came to me and I refused to do any more such work. I was not afraid to speak out, I just understood that it was the wrong way to do things.

What victims of any kind need are dispassionate expert listeners who, like good judges, will hear their stories without becoming involved in their stories. It is then up to those listeners to move the wheels of government and bring about the legal and social help and support those victims need.

I didn't want others to "share my pain." I knew what it felt like and did not want to "share" that with anyone. I am not that cruel. I did not need "empathisers" full of "sympathy" and "concern." I wanted people to hear and then act, to prevent others having to go through what I had and without recourse to the law or social support. I was not interested in playing the victim game. I wanted to play the justice game.

This country, like most of the western world has wrapped itself in victim hood in the most disgusting and claustrophobic ways and its political and social leaders think they are showing compassion by doing it. They are not, what they are really doing is breeding it. They are turning people into slavering Pavlov-like monsters all slavering at the sound of the victim bell.

Though this is primarily a left wing error, it is now becoming part of the right wing political agenda too. Much, band-wagon hopping is going on.

The victim hood mentality breeds injustice, hate, a mob rule mindset and encourages every kind of sick human behaviour and hypocrisy it is possible to imagine. It is fuelled by people like those at "Women's Aid," the gay rights movement, feminism and so on, who while pretending to have compassion, are really all about sick revenge and trying to humiliate others.

When victims lead the agenda the agenda ceases to be one of calm, dispassionate reason and becomes, instead, a swampy minefield of crazy, half thought out, often hysterical policies and "social justice" initiatives. Initiatives that are neither social or representative of justice and all are based on "feelings." A society led by the heart instead of a calm mind is a society that will descend into chaos. If Hitler taught us anything good, surely that is it!

I understood that it is not good to have victims leading the agenda. Victims are not fit to lead by virtue of their experiences and prejudices. I did not want to lead anyone as a victim either.

Look at the domestic abuse industry, with its lies, exaggerations, false statistics and fake studies. Its deliberate misinformation, power grabbing, manipulations and refusal to see that excluding males from the justice system on this issue, is about as hypocritical and savage as it is possible to be. Yet all the time masquerading under the banner of, "caring for victims." This industry, led by the victims of abuse, is a sodden morass of unintelligible thought, staggeringly ill thought out political and social responses and thoroughly soaked in every kind of mob hatred mentality. It has ceased to be about the victims of abuse and become a battle ground for the disturbed to advocate and drive the most extraordinary legal and social misuse of power ever seen. Off of its back we have the paedophile hysteria, the rape hysteria, the drug rape hysteria, the stalker hysteria and every other kind of mushy, woolly and distorted viewpoint it is possible to carry in our heads. All views screaming for revenge and fuelled, not by reason, but by the hatred driving the thinking of the victims. Our country, under this influence has become like Dodge! Every day we witness another shoot out at the Not OK Corral. Every kind of loony in the country is queuing up to be a professional victim and write a book, go on TV or in the press and all they really want is revenge. They call it justice, they mean, revenge.

I suddenly realised that because I was not seeking revenge, I was truly seeking justice, no one wanted to listen. It was not sanity they all wanted to hear, because insanity has become the new cool.

I wanted no part of it. I just wanted it to stop. Personally, I like sanity. Having been driven close to losing my own I realised just how precious it is. I also realised how easily it can be stolen.

Can we all just stop being nutters…, please?

George Rolph.

Radié à vie une quatrième fois