He looks comfortable and relaxed, just as George Bush and Mr Sanctimonious Blair and our other much-loved historic leaders must feel comfortable being driven around in an open car. [ Previous Radical’s Diary ] February 22, 2010 (Monday) Windsor (England) THE LAST hour or two, I had a long, pleasant dream during which at one time B. sat next to me with other people, on my left, chatting like old times at The Cadogan, looking as beautiful as ever, her hair blonde and “spooffy” as she called it.

I wish I could do more to help her. She went out to buy a kettle on Saturday, as she told me in a text, which was better news in a small way. 12:26 p.m Andrea C. emails.

“Hello, I’m sorry for this odd request because it might get to you too urgent but it’s because of the situation of things right now, i’m stuck in London UK right now, i came down here on vacation, i was robbed, worse of it is that bags, cash, cards and my cell phone was stolen at GUN POINT, it’s such a crazy experience for me, i need help flying back home, the authorities are not being 100% supportive but the good thing is i still have my passport but dont have enough money to get my flight

ticket back home, please i need you to loan me some money, will refund you as soon as i’m back home, i give you my word. Andrea C. Her name is familiar, but it strikes me at first as a typical scam. It still may be, but Nigerian scammers don’t usually use real contact names and their real e-mail addresses. I find that she attended my 2008 Washington DC meeting. Resisting the initial impulse to trash it, I reply: “I am not in London, Andrea, but at Windsor. How come you saved your passport?”

The first suspicions are already forming. She replies 12:48 p.m: “My passport was not collected when I got mugged, please can you wire me some money?” Wire? I ask where she is actually located. There is a pause, then: “112 Kentish Town Road, Camden, London UK.” What about her local friends, then? I reply I do not have the kind of money she is talking about, which is of course true. She asks hopefully; “400GBP?” and I say out of the question.

It is now obvious it is a scam – but how are the scammers intercepting my replies to her authentic address? At day’s end, Don P. contacts me by email from Las Vegas: Mr Irving: Jack K., one of my colleagues in the anti-immigrant movement in Yuma Arizona has been robbed at gunpoint in London. You are an experienced traveler and perhaps you can give him some advice on what to do. He has only his email address for communication at the present.

Another of my London correspondents is trying to contact [name omitted] for him and he has been told about the U.S. Embassy. He encloses the email that “Jack K.” has sent him. It sounds familiar.

It reads, “Hello, I’m sorry for this odd request because it might get to you too urgent but it’s because of the situation of things right now, i’m stuck in London with family right now,we came down here on vacation ,we were robbed, worse of it was that our bags, cash , credit cards and cell phone were stolen of us at GUN POINT, it’s such a crazy experience for us, we need help flying back home, the authorities are not being 100% supportive but the good thing is that we still have our passport

but dont have enough money to get our flight ticket back home, please i need you to loan me some money, i will refund you as soon as i’m back home, i promise. – Jack K—- In fact that sounds very familiar — bad grammar and spelling errors and all! I warn Don at once: The message is in fact a well-known scam that first appeared in the junk mails about six months ago. I received a nearly identical message apparently from Andrea C. this morning. What shall we do?

I am wondering if somebody has stolen their identities? Normally a US consulate will provide funds for repatriation, which is what she (they) are asking. At very least I would expect a number I could phone. Right away, at 7:32 p.m I post a “phishing” warning on my newsletter’s front page. February 23, 2010 (Tuesday) Windsor (England) WAKENED at 7:15 am by loud and physical thumps, like a cannonball rolling down the stairs.

Reminds me of those Math lectures at the Royal College of Science in 1957. I deduce it is the first floor heating which has come on, against orders. Downstairs however I find a heavy but terrified pigeon has let itself into my study, coming down the chimney like Father Christmas. It flutters madly around knocking over vases, books, and lamps until I can usher it out to freedom through the front door. Jaenelle writes me from Indianapolis about the scamming: Sounds phony.

Even if all your stuff was stolen, airfares are all e-tickets now. If you already paid for it, they just look you up by name. I reply: “That is a very good point, which I overlooked, Snowdrop, Well done.” I have spent all day productively, doing the picture sections of The War Between the Generals . From Australia, Robert F. has ordered the HESS book; I reply, “Sorry Robert, I did not recognize the name. Was your address earlier Toongabbie 2146?

If so, please let me thank you once again for your very great assistance during those difficult times, and believe me they have grown no easier in the years since the Lipstadt Trial. But as you see, I have not been stopped, and will carry on until the lights finally turn to red – long may that be down the turnpike ahead too.

Talking of which, turnpikes, I never forget incidentally my final visit to New South Wales in about 1990, running into a monster speed-trap on the highway north through Queensland, putting on my plummiest Imperial English accent as the half dozen cowboy-hatted cops strolled toward me, and one of them turning