There’s a lot of weird shit going on in the world today and one man who seems to know quite a bit about it is David Icke. He’s the man shining a light on the international conspiracy. His work shows the connections between nearly every government, corporation, major organization in known history, and the “reality matrix” in which we live. Having just returned from our triumphant tour of Europe, we decided to head down to the Isle of Wight and seek out the man himself to speak to him first hand about what is going on with the world these days and just what there is we can do to change it.

To do this, we had to cross the stretch of water known as the Solent, which separates mainland U.K from the Isle of Wight . It is only a few miles in distance, but it remains one of the world’s most expensive stretches of water to cross. Apparently, this is due to the fact that the crossing operators have to subsidise other less profitable ferry crossings in remote parts of Scotland . Despite the short distance, it proved to be quite a challenge to get across this water in good timing. Having arrived in Portsmouth earlier in the day, we proceeded to spend a good three hours trying to find somewhere to park the car. That sounds funny, right? After about our fourth parking war, we finally settled on a spot that allowed us to park up for the day for the ridiculous cost of 10 pounds. I wonder just how much money the English motorist is robbed in parking fees throughout the year? It certainly seems like it adds up to a hell of a lot more than the road tax fee.

Anyhow, we got across to the isle and made our way down the pier to the town of Ryde , where we began our search at the office address given for David Icke. After climbing a San Francisco-esque hill, we reached the address on High Street above the Klick photo shop. Nobody was there, or at least there was nobody answering, so we headed to the Holland and Barrat health food store across the street. I needed some oat tincture to try and curb my addiction to smoking. I heard it works well, and to be fair, it definitely does something to you. Even if it hasn’t cured my addiction, it did help me sleep at night. Anyway, we asked Heather, the sales assistant, if she knew of David and she said “Oh yes, David comes in here all the time.” She didn’t tell us much more than that, but mentioned which street she thought he used to live on. So we walked a few doors down and asked the newsagent in S.E.E Greenham’s for directions to the specified street, and also what he thought of David Icke, to which he replied “I don’t deliver newspapers to him. I see him around town, though. He’s a fruitcake, you know? (author’s note: we heard this term a lot from locals that appeared not to like David Icke) Just because you get on the telly, it doesn’t mean you’re right. I’ll have a debate with him any day.” Indeed you would, Mr Greenham, and I should like to be a fly on the wall for that one!

We followed his directions and ended up asking a guy carrying a fence panel if he knew the whereabouts of David Icke. He was a well spoken man, the public school type. He told us that he often sees David around supermarkets such as Tesco and Somerfield, and that his son is friends with Gareth Icke, David’s son. He offered us further directions which led us to a really quiet street where we thought all hope would be lost, until we asked another passer by if he knew where David lived. “Why, yes… he lives next door to me” he answered quite openly before entering a door into his home! …And so it was that we now knew which house Mr. Icke called home.

Yes, we had the correct building, but we didn’t know which apartment number was his. We had four options to choose from and Caitlin correctly predicted the right number, but we did not get an answer. We decided to try the door anyway, and to our surprise it was open, so we ended up in the lobby of the building. We received confirmation that David Icke did indeed live here because we noticed envelopes addressed to him piled up in his pigeon hole. I suggested we steal them, but Caitlin quite correctly told me off for thinking of such a foul deed.

One of his neighbour’s friends came to the front door as we were deciding what to do next, and it wasn’t long before this neighbour emerged from his door in the downstairs lobby. Immediately, he gave us a strange vibe. Behind this guy’s long, dangly earring on the left side, and cotton hooded tribal looking sweater, you could make out his condescending, bandito eyes. He sure didn’t seem too pleased that we had just turned up un-announced. “You could be the CIA or anyone. You should have made an appointment. Can’t you send him an email? You can’t just show up at his door like this.” His friend just shook her head and said back handedly, “Yeah, it is a bit dodgy just showing up, isn’t it? He’s got a website, you know.”

Who made up this unwritten code of conduct? And why should we feel threatened or concerned or bashful or sorry merely because our actions didn’t fit in with someone else’s belief pattern? We weren’t any kind of danger. Oh, the silly fears and customs of our societies. This was a prime example of fear.

And, we do understand David Icke is a busy man, but so are we. He perhaps receives five hundred emails a day, from no names to big names alike, and the simple fact that we don’t have the right “credentials” tells me that if we want answers from the horse’s mouth, well then we have to do something out of the ordinary and against the norm to get them!! If that means turning up un-announced at somebody’s door, then so be it. We have confronted this riddle before, and have realized that it may be the single line of attack for any free, independent journalist. David Icke is constantly telling us that we need to break from the norm, and we agree. It was just a shame his neighbour couldn’t comprehend!

        After we made our position perfectly clear to this man, he agreed to hand a letter to David Icke personally for us. While we were writing out our note, he proceeded to tell us what he thought of David. “He’s a recluse, he’s like two different people, and all this pressure’s getting to him, you know. By the way, you don’t honestly believe all that Lizard crap, do you?” We let him know that we fully support Icke on his one world government and mental warfare theories and that we did not simply brush away “all that Lizard crap.” We informed him that we had dropped out of society in order to do what we could to fight against them, to which he scoffed. I wandered how this cretin might scoff at David Icke when talking to him in the hall way? Or on the other hand, how brown his nose might actually get should he cross paths with him? Anyway, this fool didn’t offer us much more information, but promised to hand a note to David personally.

Well, we are still awaiting a reply from Mr Icke, so who knows if this hypocritically imaged “new age hippy” type fellow living down stairs ever handed that note in for us!

Our final stop on our way back to the mainland was to Flash Harry’s chip shop. Flash Harry knows David, too, and informed us that David’s son is on the books of Manchester United Football Club. He also told us about a good friend of David’s named Mick Lambert, who runs the Shen clinic, where they practice some extremely interesting treatment methods such as Vega testing and Photon Resonance therapy. Apparently, he shares many of the same views as David Icke. We were intrigued and have since tried to contact Mick Lambert to talk more about his work, but we still await a reply from him, too.

        It turns out David Icke was away in Japan when we called in on him, so our mission turned out to be a fruitless one, but not entirely fruitless. We did learn some things, but I guess the fruit just wasn’t ripe enough for picking.  

        We have had no response from the note we left for David, but who knows if he even got it. Maybe the Troll from downstairs tossed it in the trash as soon as we left, or maybe he wiped his arse with it, who knows? On the other hand, maybe David Icke is just too busy to drop us a line, and that’s fine. One thing we did learn, though, is that David Icke is just a normal bloke like everybody else, well like everybody else is capable of being. He shops in the same stores as everyone else, he drives a car like everyone else, he lives in a fairly normal house, he likes to go for a beer now and again, and he has got an idiot for a neighbour. Simple findings I guess, but important ones none the less. If David Icke can think about things the way he does, then why can’t you? He is just an ordinary bloke, after all. He goes down to Tesco’s, too, you know!