I started to keep a journal in January, 1973, when I was 17 years old ~ and compiled it as if it was written for a future grandchild.
Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Wednesday September 20, 1978
One day when a National Front dictatorship rules over these islands led by a short, enfeebled geezer with a Charlie Chaplin moustache, I only hope I am a tax exile in Zurich, or somewhere. I simply don't like the idea. I do suppose it's up to people like me to put a stop to this growth of fascism before it gets out of hand because looking at the Germany of the 1920s the masses didn't see the danger in Mr Hitler. Pete Lazenby is now a leading activist in the Anti-Nazi League, and he is busy recruiting all the time, but I fear that his legions are made up of blood~red communists, who'd like nothing better than to see the likes of the Hon Mrs Angus Ogilvy, and her more important relatives, hanging by their necks from the turrets of Tower Bridge. It's always from one extreme to the other, don't you think?
Retired to bed with Adolf Hitler and these gloomy thoughts at 10:30.