Bamber Book Club

I do love a good read and write session, you know. That’s why I made a blog after all. Can’t beat a good book.

So it got me thinking: What if Jeremiah Bamberoonie (Jeremy Bamber to you and I) wrote himself a book about the adventures, thrills and spills of the last 30-or-so years? What form might it take?

After all, that whole suffering the devastating loss of your whole family with absolutely no victim support, being accused of killing them with absolutely no evidence whatsoever and then imprisoned for life for it – despite that imprisonment being totally illegal in itself….  Yes, I’m sure that’s a real squeal of a tale and would give 50 Shades a run for its money in terms of sauce!

Seriously,  Jeremy will be free soon enough, that’s for sure, and if he ever feels like penning his story then it will definitely shame a lot of people. For now, we can only speculate. It could look like this, for instance:

GOOD BOOK?

Sort of like an Alcatraz-cum-Shawshank excitement feel to it, don’t you think? I like the idea that it’s all about to change and that for the clutch of weirdos who happily made this happen to him there will be no way back. So yes, I suspect it might be something like that.

If that’s the ‘good eggs’, what about the ‘bad eggs’? Any idea what their book would look like?

Well, funny you should ask – cos I’ve managed to snare me a copy. I did enquire originally if I could be sent a copy but was told that they had all been destroyed/could not be traced, and yet low and behold, I found it! Bit of a recurring theme.

Anyway, here it is:

BAD BOOK!

The ‘explains-all’ textbook on how to imprison Jeremy Bamber. Would go very nicely with the Cooking with Jeremy tutorial, from a past blog.

Just as well it’s an idiot’s guide, eh?

Bamber, Tea Monster

BAMBER HATES TEA CHIMP.... (Apparently)

Ooooh I tell you, that Bamber - he's really gone and done it now! Flipping heck! I'm livid, fuming, angry, furious and hopping mad!

Why such commotion, you ask? Well, Jeremy's latest blog of course. Haven't you read it? Of course you haven't read it, you'd be marching outside Full Sutton with flimsy banners proclaiming "BAMBER'S A BEAST!" if you'd read it.

Let me fill you in. Jeremy Bamber prefers coffee and for the life of him cannot stand to drink tea. Can you believe that?? Leaves a fur on the tongue, he says. The sheer cheek of the man. I know, I know - your blood must be boiling!

Think of those poor PG Tips monkeys, for instance. They'll be out of a job after this. Those fellas from Tetley? No chance - out on the street; homeless and penniless, and it'll be all Jeremy's fault.

He's done some things in his time (apparently taking the lives of his entire family without leaving a single trace of evidence or being spotted by a single witness, for instance - what a feat of apparent majesty that was...) but this takes the biscuit - the tea and biscuit, that is!

Of course, in reality, I should wind my neck in and stop making such a song and dance out of everything Jeremy has to say. I guess it's just what I'm used to. He said he was innocent, how they shouted... He said he feared his sister, mentally ill, may have been behind the killings - how they lambasted him. He said he would fight until one day he was free... My, how they said it was HOBNOB.

In reality of course, much of what Jeremy says is true and isn't at all sensational. Especially the bit about one day being free - thankfully we can all count on that one being virtually gospel. As for his latest blog? He's starting a 29th year in prison as an innocent man. Now that'd be worth getting angry about, wouldn't it? 

As ever, the clock ticks and the tide turns. Slowly? Yes, but it turns...

What's Under That Corgi?

Much like Jeremy being a killer, this seems a touch unlikely...

We’re told in fantasy land that Jeremy Bamber is a bad sort who spends his days biting the heads off baby chicks and spitting out the beaks, or whatever it is that bad sorts do…

Anyway, full from chick heads and after implausibly and miraculously managing to murder his entire family without anyone having any evidence whatsoever and there being no witnesses, he also managed to fool the world into thinking his sister, Sheila, had actually committed the murders in a psychotic episode.

Yes he fooled them all – including one fellow by the name of Prof. Peter Vanezis who was the case pathologist. You see – obviously blinded by Bad Bamber’s brilliance rather than the actual truth – Vanezis ruled that indeed, it was a case of four murders and one suicide; that the “two gunshot wound” issue was no screaming anomaly to him and that, indeed, he had seen the same thing a number of times prior. He added Sheila would even have been able to move and walk for a short time after administering a first shot to herself.

Even when told by those clever coppers wot rumbled Bamber’s evil scheme that it was actually he who’d done it, he stated the theory was “almost too incredible to believe” and that for it to occur in this way; she would have to be under the influence of drugs (she was not) and that Jeremy would have to be a "nutter" (he is not).

So then I was thinkin’ to myself. He’s got it wrong – he must  have – everyone says Jeremy did it and why would they lie? It’s not like they anyone had motive or anything *cough*.

Then it clicked. It’s not the first time this man Vanezis has got a biggun’ wrong. He was called in to help investigate the death of Princess Diana and, here in fantasy land, that one’s not all it seems either. Some tabloids say the Queen did it, with a pistol smothered under a Corgi, others say it was the SAS and some argue she isn’t even dead!

So yes, I reasoned to myself. That’s it – if Jeremy Bamber was the murderer then Princess Diana is sat here next to me in fantasy land, the pair of us rocking brand new pink shorts from Primark and soaking up the rays. (I assume that’s what she’d do).

In reality of course (hello real world)… Peter Vanezis didn’t get either case wrong – that’s probably cos he’s good at his job, has done leading work for the Home Office and was named an OBE! Hardly an amateur.

Diana, sadly, is no longer with us and, for once, silly season should come and go without the tabloids hounding her from beyond her grave. Tragically, Sheila, Daniel, Nicholas, Nevill and June are all no longer with us, either – and Jeremy had about as much to do with their death as the Queen’s Corgi did with Diana’s.

So let’s stop the Bamber bashing HOBNOB, let’s allow Jeremy to finally grieve fully, as an innocent man…

Flat Planet's Guilty Myth

Where the other half presumably live...

Hello blog lovers.

It's funny, isn't it; how the world changes as the years go by and how our beliefs and fascinations change - we learn the awkward truth about the festive fatty (sorry, still bitter I didn't get that set of pink fluffy handcuffs that one time), the tooth fairy and the like. It's been the same all through time - lest we forget at one stage we all believed the earth was flat and that we'd all fall off if we travelled far enough. I could name thousands!

Our man Bamber's case is a bit like that you know, except over time some of us have become a lot better at growing out of certain myths than others. For instance:

- You know that dragonflies don't sew your lips shut - they don't have any needles, silly.
- You know you won't really become a zombie if you don't hold your breath when you pass a cemetery (seriously).
- You know your face won't stick that way if you pull a funny face as the wind changes (though I know of a lady's that has and she ain't never comin round to change my bedsheets...)

It's all just stuff people want you to keep believing. So why is that the silly sausages of the guilty brigade still try and shove decades' old horse crap into our faces?

You see, we didn't always know for a fact that Nevill, Jeremy's father, called the Police. But then the facts of the matter arrived and we discovered that he did.  It was new information, so we learned from it and it strengthened us. We didn't always know just exactly how and why Police got around things like silencers, super glue and paperweights, but now we do - cos we've learned.

But those who tell you our Bamber's a naughty egg are telling you the same stuff now as they did nigh-on thirty years ago. There's a good reason for that: like all those wives-tales and child-beliefs, it's all a load of HOBNOB, if you know what I mean? Do love a Hobnob, good with a brew.

They can't change the record - it's like the Zutons or local radio, they've got no new stuff! They'll tell you Jeremy hid the phone (he didn't), he wore a wet-suit (he didn't), he climbed through a window (he didn't), there was Sheila's blood in the moderator (there wasn't), he talked about killing them all (he didn't) and was found sat in the corner of a darkened room feasting on stale bread and cold mashed potato..... okay, so perhaps they don't tell you that, but they tell you the rest!

It's as pie in the sky as the world being flat - which it isn't... though a small, merry band of those who made all this happen will soon wish they could fall off and disappear....

Knight Rider Nicked!

Michael Knight: Presumably gave Bamber a lift....

So then, Bloggeroos. In previous chats we have discovered many things. We have discovered, many will tell you, that Mr Jeremy Bamber is a bad man, a killer, a breakfast lover and a magician. How marvellous.

Except it is not marvellous – it’s a load of old toffee! It’s been good humour enough to sustain the Police and countless others over the last three decades or so. They do love a good tale about our man Bamber. I’ve got another one for you – did you hear about the time the coppers caught and arrested Michael Knight?

You know the fella. The Hoff! Smashing hair, the one off of that telly programme Knight Rider. Yeah they got him good. Or at least that’s how it sounds, anyway. Back in 1985 they stood outside White House Farm, home to the family of Jeremy Bamber while, inside, Mr Bamber’s entire family tragically lay dead. It appears as though – while waiting the four or five hours they saw fit to fanny around before eventually deciding to storm the place, call ambulances and the like – they spent time chatting to The Hoff who, for some reason, was over in the UK and randomly passing by sleepy corner of Essex in the dark of the night.

I say this cos the Police maintain that there was a fella stood about, chatting on about how he was about to spend £70,000 or so buying a brand new Porsche. How the other half live, eh? All very well if you can afford it and the Hoff off Knight Rider obviously can.

There is one curiosity – the Police did say that this man was not in fact the Hoff, but was instead Jeremy Bamber himself. I’m sure they must have mixed up the two (they both have decent hair after all) but they say not. They say Bamber was there mouthing off about the fact that once all this business was taken care of, he was gonna get a brand-new Porsche. Bamber ended up in jail because of it no less! The greedy so and so.

Ok, ok. I’m being a silly sausage now... But that’s the sort of stuff they come out with! “M’Lord, Bamber said he was going to buy a new Porsche once all this killin’ bizzniss was sorted, so send him to jail and throw away the key!”

Seriously? How about the truth – Bamber, so torn by what was going on inside the house, repeatedly broke down in front of officers who, keen to stop him turning to hysterics, distracted him by talking about more trivial matters. Jeremy would tell them of a summer car project he was working on – involving purchasing a Porsche kit car [No, not THAT type of “Kit” car you silly bean!]  This would have been at a cost of about £1-2,000. i.e. more than enough for you or I to afford just by saving up our dinner money for a few months. Not the sort of amount that’d drive a man to wipe out his family.

Tis all part of the prosecution game of getting you to believe Jeremy Bamber is a monster. One slight spin on one innocent conversation, and you have a generation of people assuming that a man serving life in prison is in the right place – when in fact he isn’t.

How about we stop all of this and start being told the truth, eh? You know – the TRUTH. The truth being that Jeremy Bamber having killed his family is as likely as Michael sodding Knight driving him to the Farm to do it!

Pass the Toast, Jezza!

Killin' makes ya hungry, apparently...

Hello my beauties!

Here’s a question for ya – how do you spot a murderer? Someone who has killed. Murder weapon? Forensics? Confession? Dead body (or bodies, but let’s not start that again!)?

No – none of those things. How one really spots a killer is the mighty epic that is the beloved full English breakfast. It is renowned, it is plentiful and lordy lord it is deadly. You’ve gotta be a bad man to get involved with that sort of thing.

You may ask how I know this... You may suggest that you sat down at your nan’s kitchen table the other day and scoffed one yet the only thing you’ve ever managed to kill was that spider wot crawled up your inside leg when you was in the shower that one morning. But it don’t make you a murderer, you protest.

Well, how I know this is the case of Mr Jeremy Bamber. The Guilty Warriors (happy chaps they are, too) tell us that bad man Bamber sat down and revelled in a full cooked breakfast in the company of police offers after murdering his entire family.

They tell us that Bamber sat down at his own kitchen table, thrashed around the red sauce and baked beans and chomped on sausage and egg whilst chatting away to the noble officers from our finest police force – cursing the minor inconvenience earlier in the day of having to take up valuable eating time with the death of his loved ones. They tell us he wore a cheesy grin through bites of grilled tomato and belly-laughed at the whole affair.

So there you go – the full English is the killer’s breakfast.

Which is fine, all except for the fact that it’s all a load of old bollocks. For one point, the fact that you might eat a full English after learning of the death of your whole family hardly makes you responsible for killing them. We all deal with grief in different ways, after all. I don’t think I’d eat after bad news, but some might.

But it’s hogwash for a big reason – the closest Jeremy Bamber got to a ‘full cooked breakfast’ on the  morning in question was about as close as he got to killing them – i.e. not very! Study the FACTS (cos we’re fact fans at this ‘ere blog) and speak to the officers themselves and they’ll begrudgingly tell you that, back at his home and in the company of police, Bamber was offered old, past-its-best whisky which duly made him sick.

To stop him heaving his guts up, they suggested he might well eat something. Jeremy then went into his kitchen and cooked in the microwave the only thing he could find – two pieces of bacon. Prompted, he then put this between two pieces of bread to form what many of us call a sandwich. Yes, that’s right – a sandwich of microwaved bacon. He barely even managed to finish that, under their watchful eye and in virtual silence.

So what do you think? Shall we listen again to the propaganda and just stick with what seems to fit what many people will have us believe about Jeremy? Or shall we believe that, oddly, after knowing his entire family had just been gunned down, he actually didn’t feel like doing much at all – especially eating.

The full English might well be the breakfast of killers – it might just be why Jeremy went without one!

"The One with the Waggly Tail"

Yes! How much IS that rifle in the window?

That's right - I say rifle, not doggy - on account of the fact that this particular entry concerns the murder weapon in the case of Jeremy Bamber rather than fluffy petfolk.

Anyway - I ask how much is that rifle in the window, cos it was clearly hot property and in demand - everyone wanted to hold it, though no one would own up to it of course!

Allow me to do some explaining for you.

The truth: Jeremy Bamber's sister, Sheila, after killing her entire family, took her own life. She shot herself once, in the soft tissue of her neck, but was not killed outright and the case pathologist stated she would have been able to stand and walk. While found unconscious by the Police in the kitchen, she fled while the Police were searching the rest of the huge farmhouse and went upstairs where she would later fire a second shot which killed her instantly. Fully aware that she had killed herself, but also knowing that there was no way it could get out that they mistook her for dead in the kitchen when she was in fact still alive, Police re-staged the scene so it reflected suicide. A small manipulation of the truth in of itself - the suicide still stood - and from here the Police were fine. They photographed her and decided that  it might be nice to get in some Police training and drafted in many more unidentified individuals and officers to practise how an officer might remove a gun from a dead body. All shockingly disrespectful to the dead relative of Jeremy Bamber.

What they'll have you believe: Jeremy Bamber killed each member of his family, Sheila included. Sheila was never found in the kitchen at any stage and was only found in the bedroom (either on the floor or on the bed depending on which log/notebook you read - dead bodies move in the crazy, wacky Police world, you see). It was Jeremy who re-staged the scene to make it look as if Sheila had killed herself so he could get away with murder. Neither her body nor the murder weapon were moved at any time.

How we know version one is "the truth."

The murder weapon, they say, was never off the body of Sheila.

Kay then. What's it doing by this window, then?

 Oh no wait - mere frames earlier in the Police film (seconds or minutes in real time - photos would have been taken at a mass rate for a family murder-suicide), this photo shows it's actually not by the window. We must have imagined it was ever then shown to be by the window. It was on the body the whole time, yes.

In some strange way I almost wish I was making this stuff up - I wish it was me inventing this information and just telling you about it - but these are Police photos - it is the Police logs that record Sheila was found downstairs and it is the Police who maintain neither she nor the gun were moved once they were inside. 

You don't have to take my word for it - the evidence is there. Jeremy Bamber is innocent, and the Police know it.

The Mind v The Media

“...unless you know me, I’m the sum of my media profile and, as you’ll soon find out, that’s very much only a caricature of me – even after all this time in jail.”

Those were among the first words Jeremy Bamber ever told me – and I think it is only really today that I actually understood the meaning behind what he was getting at.

Delusions, Crackpots and Lie Detection

Jeremy Bamber emphatically passed a lie detector test in 2007

Campaigning on behalf of Jeremy Bamber comes with certain territory.

To surmise it; you’re essentially a crackpot filled with fanciful delusions who has been duped by a master criminal and making a fool out of yourself. That’s fine, really. Never had a problem with it – after all, Jeremy has had no choice but to turn his cheek to much worse over 27 years, so a bit of name calling should barely even register.