James Delingpole
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Erudite but accessible; warm and witty; definitely not woke
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"Hey, Hey We're The Beatles". Or - Why 'Paul Is Dead' Is Not A Conspiracy Theory Too Far

Was Paul McCartney killed in car crash in 1966 - perhaps even ritually murdered with a silver hammer - and replaced with a doppelganger?

Well it’s an interesting theory. But not one to which five or ten years ago I would have given much credence. It would have required me to believe in something which at the time I would have considered impossible: that the world was run by a Predator Class so powerful, controlling and malign that they were capable of micromanaging every last detail of popular culture for their nefarious ends.

Heaven knows what I would have thought of this essay by Patrick O'Carroll (see link at base of article) - https://jamesperloff.net/hey-hey-were-the-beatles/ - which makes the case that the Beatles - like the Stones - were never about innocent entertainment but were in fact as manufactured and inauthentic as The Monkees, a psyop designed to promote anti-family-values (drugs, sex, alienation) and engender societal fragmentation by deepening the generational divide.

I cannot vouch for any of the claims made. Most of them derive from the deep-dive research done by Mike Williams - aka Sage of Quay, who has dedicated his life to exposing the inconsistencies in the official Beatles narrative: everything from the changing physiognomy of Paul McCartney to numerological symbolism to the band’s implausibly prolific (and varied) output.

As I often say about so-called conspiracy theories, there is rarely a single killer fact that suddenly turns unbelievers into believers by sheer weight of its stunning logic. Different people find different ways in, depending on their predilections. For example, with the ‘moon landings’ what finally convinced me to be a sceptic was not the flag shadows (or any of the other photographic evidence), nor the technical/scientific detail about fuel loads and the Van Allen belt, but simply listening to the testimony of the ‘astronauts’ talking about their experiences. Wherever these shifty, evasive men had been, it clearly wasn’t the moon’s surface.

It’s the same with the Beatles. Some people - women especially I find - claim to be able to see clear differences between the face of young Paul McCartney and that of the man who allegedly replaced him. Some people are even into the gematria stuff, which I find incomprehensible. Personally, what raises my suspicions is not just the unfeasible vastness of their catalogue but more puzzingly its lack of a distinctive idiom. Led Zeppelin always sound like Led Zeppelin; Pink Floyd always like Pink Floyd; Oasis always like the Beatles. But I do not believe, even if we are to accept the notion that two young men from Liverpool were more preternaturally talented than any songwriters who have ever lived, that Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, Eleanor Rigby, Penny Lane, When I’m Sixty-Four, Yesterday, A Day In The Life, and Strawberry Fields were all composed by the same duo. If you disagree, I suggest first you ask yourself: Is this what my gut tells me or is it this just what I’ve been programmed to think via the cunning ruse of having heard all these songs packaged on albums bearing the Beatles brand?’

Even among groups who consider themselves to be Awake, I notice there’s a lot more resistance to ‘conspiracy theories’ about the Beatles than there is to ones about, say, 9/11 or the moon landings. The argument often made is that even if some of it is true, it’s too niche, too trivial to merit wasting our time on when there are so many more important battles out there for us to fight.

But there’s some flawed logic there. Suppose the Beatles/Tavistock Institution theory is correct then it’s a far, far bigger deal than either the faked moon landings or 9/11. It makes almost everyone who was a teenager from the 1960s onwards the potential victim of an MK-Ultra-style experiment on a global scale to mess with their heads, turn them on to casual sex and wanton drug use, alienate them from their parents, and embrace the New Age. It means the Conspiracy is bigger, much bigger - and more insidious, more personal - than we might ever have dreamed in our worst nightmares.

I think that’s one reason why ‘Paul is dead’ etc get such pushback, even from avowed conspiracy theorists. The Beatles are so inextricably bound with our lives (and designedly so, I’d argue) that to have them taken away from us is like losing a piece of ourselves. One of the first songs I remember loving, for example, was Octopus’s Garden. Abbey Road had just come out, my Dad used to play it on his Eight-track in the Jensen, and I, being four years old, just couldn’t get enough of that catchy song about horticultural cephalopods. The line about ‘oh what joy for every girl and boy,’ made me feel as if the whole song had been written me for personally.

Most of us, I’m sure, have similar stories. Even if you ‘never liked the Beatles’ (as lots of people like to boast), you won’t possibly have been able to escape their cultural influence, be it the yoga, sitars and meditation they imported from their stint in India with the Maharishi, or Jane Asher’s cakes - early precursor to Bake Off - or the young female fans screaming to the point where they wet themselves or your sheer irritation at how annoying Imagine is or how inept the lyrics to Live and Let Die are. The Beatles were like a virus, inserted into our software, which has been playing havoc with our system ever since.

But rather than admit this possibility, many of us go into denial mode. The “why are you bothering me with this trivia when there are so many more important issues to consider?” is one of the standard defensive responses. Another is to make a big deal about the elements of Sage of Quay’s research you find least compelling - “Well he looks like the same person to me!” “I don’t buy into all that numerology bollocks” “Yes they could have written that many songs in that short a period.” - and ignore the accumulated weight of evidence that forms the whole picture.

“I don’t buy into conspiracy theories where I can’t see all the receipts” someone boasted on my Telegram channel, as if this statement alone consigned ‘Paul is dead’ to oblivion. But in a conspiracy, almost by definition, the evidence is hidden behind layers of deception. So, of course, you’re not going to find videos of Paul’s replacement confessing: “I admit I’m a fake.” About the best you’re going to get, which is more or less what we’ve got, is very rare instances, caught on camera, where people who would have known the original Paul - like George Harrison’s widow - address the imposter as ‘Billy’ (as in Billy Shears or William Shepherd).

Individually, the pieces of ‘proof’ that the Beatles were a Tavistock Institute psyop seem quite flimsy. (Though I do love the outtake where The Snowman composer Howard Goodall asks George Martin some informed questions about the degree to which he wrote the Beatles songs for them and Martin gives him the Masonic signal that means ‘shut up this instant!’). But when added up, they form a case too compelling to be easily dismissed.

Yet dismiss it, still, a significant proportion of Awake people do. And they do so with the kind of vehemence, indignation and righteous anger we’ve come to expect from Normies whenever they have their paradigm challenged, but which seems quite surprising when expressed by the sort of Awake types normally quite comfortable with the notion that the world is a massive deception.

I understand the strength of that emotional response: for reasons I’ve outlined above. What I don’t get is the logical capitulation. It’s like this: you accept that the world is run by a Cabal evil and skilled enough to fake the moon landings, assassinate a president in broad daylight, murder nearly 3,000 Americans in central New York in order to launch a ‘War on Terror’ which will kill many hundreds of thousands more innocents while enriching their mates in the arms and oil industries, and invent and promote two world wars which killed still millions more; and yet you maintain that this same Cabal would draw the line at creating a number of fake popular music ensembles in order to reshape popular culture?

What I’d like to ask to these Beatles-conspiracy-deniers is: what kind of Normie-tastic, self-delusional planet are you living on? It’s not as though - thanks to Dave McGowan’s superb research in Weird Scenes Inside the Canyon; research, mark you that probably cost him his life - we don’t have chapter and verse on a very similar, US-based project to destroy American Christian family values and counter the anti-war movement by weaponising the West Coast sound and flooding the market with LSD and hippie values.

We KNOW that the Doors, the Byrds, Frank Zappa, Crosby, Stills and Nash, the Mamas and the Papas et al were mostly from intelligence or military backgrounds, mostly couldn’t play their instruments, had most of their records made by session musicians (‘The Wrecking Crew’), were so useless live that the only way they got away with it was because their audiences were too high to notice, that the whole operation was orchestrated by the three-letter agencies and seasoned with a grotesque infusion of Satanic ritual (the Manson family et al) and paedophilia.

If They could pull off this trick with the (alleged) creators of Eight Miles High, Monday Monday, and Come On Baby Light My Fire, it hardly seems beyond the bounds of credibility that They might have done something similar with The Beatles and The Stones.

I’m not saying for absolute certain that They did. What I am saying is that the case has sufficient merit not to be dismissed as “one of those discredited, crazy theories put out to discredit the Awake community.” Those who stridently make such an assertion really need to pause for a moment and remember the days when they were similarly dismissive about the 9/11 ‘conspiracy theory’, the Kennedy ‘conspiracy theory’ and the fake moon landings ‘conspiracy theory.’ You were wrong, then, about those. What makes you so sure you aren’t wrong now about ‘Paul is dead’?

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James and Dick’s CHRISTMAS Special 2025

Featuring Dick. And James. And Unregistered Chicken. And possibly some other special guests.

Not included in ticket price but available so you don’t starve/die of thirst: nice pizzas out of wood-fired ovens; street food.

VIP Tickets - £120 including bell-ringing lesson, walk with James, front row seats, church tour

Location is: My neck of the woods. Northants. Nearest stations, Banbury/Long Buckby. Junction 11 of M40.

Friday, 28th November 2025. Starts at 5pm

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Shop/?section=events#events

00:02:47
Big Birthday Bash

James Delingpole’s Big Birthday Bash August 1st. Starring Bob Moran, Dick Delingpole and Friends. Tickets £40. VIP Tickets (limited to 20) £120

Venue: tbc Central England/East Midlands - off M40 and M1 in middle of beautiful countryside with lots of b n bs etc.

Buy Tickets / More Info:
https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Live/bob-moran.html

If you have any questions regarding the event - please contact us via our website:
https://jamesdelingpole.co.uk/#Contact

00:04:15
Nick Kraljevic

If you had to escape to another country which would it be? James runs through some of the options with Aussie cybersecurity guy and entrepreneur Nick Kraljevic. Nick - a Delingpod addict since Australia’s crazy lockdowns - talks about how to claim dual citizenship (handy if your family originates from somewhere like Croatia, as Nick’s does) and which countries are currently the most welcoming. His two top choices may come as a surprise. Nick is the founder of Societates Civis - www.soc-civ.com - which can help you make the move.

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How environmentalists are killing the planet, destroying the economy and stealing your children's future.

In Watermelons, an updated edition of his ground-breaking 2011 book, JD tells the shocking true story of how a handful of political activists, green campaigners, voodoo scientists and psychopathic billionaires teamed up to invent a fake crisis called ‘global warming’.

This updated edition includes two new chapters which, like a geo-engineered flood, pour ...

01:24:01

Posted by Tom Woods this morning. I concur! Breakfast is for farmers.

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James's Big Birthday Bash - August 1st. Be There!

Because I love you all and want you to be happy, I’d like few things more than if you were ALL able to join me at my James Delingpole Birthday Bash on August 1st.

Unfortunately, numbers are strictly limited. So please don’t be one of those people - I’m the procrastinating type myself, so I know whereof I speak - who sends me a pleading message a few days before the event saying: “Can you squeeze me in?” Because tragically I might not be able to help.

Here’s why I think you’ll enjoy it. The main event is me doing a live Delingpod with Bob Moran and the conversation is going to be great. You know it is. Apart from my brother Dick - who’ll also be appearing, obvs. - there’s probably no one with whom I have a greater rapport than Bob. And, gosh, do we have a lot to talk about: chemtrails, death jabs, dinosaurs, Satanists, the New World Order etc. All the stuff, basically, that you can’t discuss with your Normie friends, but which here we’ll cover freely and frankly because, hey, you’ll be ...

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Christianity 1 New Age 0

If you haven’t already - I’m a bit behind the curve here - I urge you to watch this car crash encounter between Christian apologist and scholar Wes Huff and ‘ancient civilisation’ researcher Billy Carson.

It’s an excruciating experience - probably best to watch it on double speed - for a couple of reasons. First, the hapless podcast host/debate moderator Mark Minard is somewhat out of his depth and is also clearly embarrassed at having one of his guests (Carson, sitting right next to him) eviscerated in front of him by his other guest. This causes him to interrupt the debate at intervals and expound well-meaningly but not very interestingly on his own half-baked views on the mysteries of the universe. You feel a bit sorry for him but you do rather wish he’d shut up.

Second, and mainly, it’s painful to watch Carson being outclassed and outgunned by someone who knows and understands his purported field of expertise so much better than he does. Carson was reportedly so upset by the encounter that he ...

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I Wish I Weren't a Christian

No, not really, obviously. I’m just venting my frustration on how incredibly hard it is sometimes.

For example, if you read your scripture regularly you will notice that time and again Jesus enjoins us to forgive our enemies. This is emphasised in Matthew where He tells us that there’s only one prayer we really need and that’s the Lord’s Prayer.

In the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus leaves us in no doubt that for followers of the way forgiveness is not an optional extra.

Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.

There’s an implicit contract here. If you want to be worthy of God’s forgiveness then you must do likewise.

I say the Lord’s Prayer every day, from the moment I wake till the moment I’m about to go to sleep - and lots of times in between.

The first parts are easy. What’s not to like about hallowing the Lord’s name and celebrating his eternal kingdom and being assured of all that daily bread He provides?

But the forgiving trespasses part can be a bit of a stumbling block because it seems so onerous - and unfair.

Surely if someone wrongs you, especially when unprovoked, the proper and proportionate response ought to be to smite them sevenfold? At the very least.

How can it not be right to retaliate when you’ve got right on your side?

How can it especially not be right when you happen to have been blessed by God with a mind that can produce the kind of next-level invective, weapons-grade cattiness and implacable, Daisy-cutter bomb logic that utterly obliterates anyone foolish enough to cross you?

Not only would the revenge be just - but fun too!

I’ve tried these arguments, over the years, on my morning walk with the dog, which is one of the occasions where I go through the Psalms and commune with God. But I can never quite get my point past the goalkeeper.

I’ll say stuff like: “C’mon, God. Give me a break. I’m not St Francis of Assisi. Can’t you just give me a bit of leeway, just this once, to satisfy my baser urges? I’ll be good afterwards, promise.”

Or: “But taking out wrong ‘uns in an amusing way is my brand. It’s how I make my living. You surely don’t want me to starve, do you?”

Resisting the temptation to deploy my powers is tough. It’s like being blessed with a huge penis only to discover “No sorry. The Lord has decided that your path is to become a monk. So I’m afraid that magnificent appendage is for peeing, only.

Why, God? Why?

The problem is that the Bible doesn’t really offer many get-out clauses. It’s not just the Lord’s Prayer that enjoins forgiveness. There’s that possibly even more annoying bit where Jesus tells us - say what? Really?? - that we should ‘Turn the other cheek.’

And then there are all the Psalms - which Jesus quoted more than almost any other book, so they must be on point - urging us to be patient and to let God take care of all the smiting.

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Podcasts/Archive/show.php?slug=2025-08-13-psalm-37-pooyan-mehrshahi

For example, there’s Psalm 37:

Leave off from wrath; and let go displeasure. Fret not thyself else thou shalt be moved to do evil.

Time and again you find the psalmist - usually David - asking, in so many words, “How much longer am I going to put up with this injustice? It’s so unfair!”

And God’s reply is always: “Fret not. I’ve got this!”

In Psalm 73, another of my favourites, the psalmist gets so frustrated he wonders why there’s any point being good when behaving badly seems so much more profitable.

Yea, and I had almost said even as they. [ie the Ungodly] But lo, then I should have condemned the generation of thy children.

But then he goes into the sanctuary of God and learns the fate of the ungodly.

Namely how thou dost set them in the slippery places and castest them down and destroyest them.

O how suddenly do they consume, perish and come to a fearful end.

Yea, even like as a dream when one awaketh, so shalt thou make their image to vanish out of the city.

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Podcasts/Archive/show.php?slug=2025-12-09-james-is-joined-by-preacher-stephen-white-to-unpack-the-beauty-and-depth-of-psalm-73

The language and imagery of the Psalms is so magnificent that I could spend all day reciting them. But if you’re reciting them merely for the great poetry then you’re surely guilty of the kind of vainglorious burbling Jesus warned us against in Matthew 6. You need to imbibe the meaning also - and accept that if Jesus took this stuff seriously then you probably should too.

Not, by the way, that I am remotely wasting any time fantasising about my enemies consuming, perishing and coming to a fearful end. On the contrary, I feel sorry for them because choosing the wrong path, away from God, is punishment in itself.

I prefer to take my example from one of the extraordinary monks featured in Archimandrite Tikhon’s Everyday Saints. [Unfortunately I can’t look up his name because I gave my copy to ortho bro Dick].

This monk was sent to the Gulag by the Soviets - but not before being cruelly tortured by a sadistic NKVD man who broke all his fingers. Many years later, the monk was reunited with his torturer, now so thoroughly ashamed he became an ardent Christian.

Please don’t think for a moment that I am comparing my feeble attempts at forbearance to that of this saintly monk. I’m sure I will fail to meet the exacting standards of saintliness on many, many occasions in the future, which will be my loss and your gain. After all, I’m sure my articles are SO much more fun when I’m putting the boot in rather than when I’m turning that other cheek.

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James and Dick's Christmas Special - Don't Miss Out!

I was about to start writing Part Two of my piece Most Journalists Don’t Realise They Are Working For Satan, when a thought occurred: “Hang on, James. Shouldn’t you be plugging your show?”

It’s this Saturday, on the off chance you are interested. I quite understand if you’re not: you’re probably busy, this miserable weather doesn’t make you feel like venturing away from home, and anyway, it’ll just be me and Dick on a stage talking rubbish as usual.

You’re right. Dick and I sitting on a stage talking rubbish is indeed what you’re going to get this Saturday evening. As usual we won’t be at all prepared. Well, Dick might but I won’t because I’m lazyI like to keep it real.

The only thing I will have to do in advance is wrap Dick’s present which I got him from Russia. He’s going to really love it because it is about as Dick a present as you could possibly imagine and I want to watch his little eyes light up as he tears off the wrapping.

But to be fair, I do have roughly in my mind some of the few things I want to talk about. One of them is ‘Who Really Runs The World?’, which obviously for us batshit-crazy tinfoil hat loons is one of those ongoing conversations which keeps changing the more we learn. Another is ‘Was Churchill more evil than Hitler?’ We’ve talked about this stuff before but my take on these issues in 2025 is going to be subtly different from the ones you heard in 2024 or 2023, let alone in say 2019 when I was about 90 per cent Normie. (I’m allowing myself 10 per cent off because I did at least know back then that climate change was bollocks).

Will we play the “Yes/No” game? I doubt it because the answer always “No” these days. But you never know. Perhaps Dick might surprise me. Or perhaps he might introduce a wild card game he has invented for the occasion.

There will be no Christmas decorations. Sorry but it’s too early.

Nor, likely, will I wear my Christmas jumper. Too hot.

But we will do the Lords Prayer at the beginning - inter alia, to ward off any demons and because it makes everyone feel amazingly uplifted - and Jerusalem at the end.

Also, you get to see Unregistered Chickens, who just get better and better. Or so I’m told by one of the band members. Dick and Andy the lead singer keep making bitchy remarks about the fact that even when they’re playing at my events I never come to see them. Or only for a few minutes. I try to explain, honestly, that this isn’t because I’m too grand or because I think they’re crap but because before you do a show the very last thing you want to be doing is hanging out with the audience because it drains all the energy you need for the show.

Still I think the thing you’ll enjoy most about the event is hanging out with like minded folk. You’ll be able to put faces to the names of some of the fellow Awake people you know from online. And you’ll be able to talk about all the things - Michelle Obama’s big swinging lunchpack; hybrid creatures bioengineered in the same Antartica DUMB where they breed the children for adrenochrome, were the Thunderbirds puppets actually devised as a result of remote viewing technology which enabled Gerry Anderson to see into the future from the 1960s and watch Konstantin Kisin and the other one presenting Triggerpod? etc - that you will probably avoid bringing up with family round the Christmas dinner table.

It’ll be fun. You’ll really, really enjoy it.

It will be no skin off my nose if you don’t. But I just think if you don’t come you’ll be missing out.

https://www.jamesdelingpole.co.uk/Shop/Events/james-and-dick-s-christmas-special-2025

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All They Want Is Your Soul

One of my unlikely podcast guests this week is Nick Griffin.

I say ‘unlikely’ because I’m always slightly wary of people who have been involved in mainstream politics - even if, like Griffin, it was only at the margins.

https://locals.com/jamesdelingpole/feed?post=7481845

Griffin - or Nick, as I suppose I should call him, now he’s my new mate - used to be the leader of the notorious British National Party (BNP). Like the party from which it splintered, the National Front, the BNP was and is one of those outfits which the mainstream media likes to brand as ‘fascist’ and ‘far right’ and ‘basically a bunch of Nazis.’

This would be why, in my days as an MSM journalist, Nick never crossed my radar. He wasn’t the sort of character of whom you could say to your editor “How about we hear what that Nick Griffin has to say for himself?” It would be tantamount to career suicide because, imagine, what if you quite liked him or he said something people agreed with? Far better not to take the risk - and to ignore him - as all self-respecting media folk did.

Anyway, now that very belatedly I’ve had chat with him I’ve discovered that, yes, I do quite like him. And also that he says lots of things I agree with. Many of the people who’ve listened to the podcast share my pleasant surprise. Here’s a typical comment:

“I was brought up believing the BBC hype - NickG is equivalent to Satan […] Please do bring Nick back on. Even some of my ‘awake-ish’ friends still recoil in horror at the mention of his name. This exposure can right this wrong.”

My main reservation about inviting Nick onto the Delingpod wasn’t that he’d be too controversial but that he might be a bit too conventional in his outlook, a bit Normie.

But on this, too, I was pleasantly surprised. As an example of how interesting his conversation is - and perhaps as an incentive to encourage those of you who aren’t already paid subscribers to sign up for an early listen before the podcast goes out free - I want to share with you one of his best anecdotes.

It was prompted when I asked him about whether any attempts had ever been made by shadowy forces to buy him off.

Yes, Nick said. Attempts had been made on a couple of occasions, one of them when he was a member of the National Front.

Representatives of an ultra-orthodox Jew in New York called Rabbi Schiller offered the National Front a large sum of money, on one somewhat surprising condition, which I shall reveal in a moment.

In Italy, meanwhile, on another occasion, some of Nick’s ‘far-right’ fellow travellers were made a similarly generous offer by a wealthy Jewish outfit. Again, the money was dependent on the fulfilment of one surprising term.

Then, Griffin went on, there was the example of his friend in Northern Ireland, a social marketing genius who was offered a blank cheque by Jewish interests, but only on one condition.

Here’s the interesting part. Perhaps you thought - as I certainly did - that in all three instances the Jewish donors would have made the same request: talking more about the Holocaust, maybe; toning down the anti-Semitism; avoiding criticism of Israel; something like that.

But no. The things that were requested were all very different - and also quite unexpected.

In the case of the National Front, the request was that they should stop griping about the perils and iniquities of the banking system.

With the Italians, the request was that they cease to sing the praises of Corneliu Codreanu, a Romanian fascist leader - founder of the Iron Guard - assassinated in the 1930s.

And in the case of the Northern Irish marketing guru, it was that he should stop talking about the evils of abortion.

The three very different provisos only had one thing in common: each was very dear to the heart of the people to whom the money offer had been made. To the National Front, banking was the key plank of their economic argument. To the Italians, Codreanu was a beloved romantic hero and role model. To the Northern Irishman, crusading against abortion was a moral imperative.

“They offer you everything you need,” explained Griffin. “But in every case they are only prepared to give it to you on condition that you sacrifice the thing closest to your heart.”

Perhaps experts in the Kabbala, or the Babylonian Mystery Religions, or the occult generally can explain to me what is going on here. But clearly these offers have great ritual significance - and also go some way towards explaining the nature of a world whose temporary god, according to the scriptures, is Satan.

Yes, you will be granted whatever you want. But not until you’ve first sold your soul.

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