The BBC sports department when I was there was seriously to the

Hear now the words of David Icke, once a sportsman, then a broadcaster, later a seeker of truths both strange and profound: “The BBC sports department when I was there was seriously to the right of Ghengis Khan, and if people think I am strange, they should have met some of the production staff I worked with. Margaret Thatcher and the Queen were the pin up girls for many of them.” At first these words seem laced with jest and exaggeration, yet within them lies a vision of the powerful forces that shape institutions, the hidden currents of ideology, and the startling truth that what we call “normal” is often far stranger than those who are branded “strange.”

The meaning is rooted in the recognition of perspective. Icke speaks of the BBC sports department, an institution expected by the public to be neutral, fair, and balanced. Yet he paints a picture of men and women whose hearts were bound tightly to conservatism, whom he compares “to the right of Ghengis Khan.” This is not merely to ridicule their politics, but to remind us that even institutions that claim objectivity are often driven by human passions, by private loyalties, by unseen leanings. What the world sees as impartial often has behind it a hidden face.

His mention of Margaret Thatcher and the Queen as “pin-up girls” for the staff is more than a mocking turn of phrase. It is a symbol of devotion to authority, to hierarchy, and to the ideals of the ruling class. In that room of producers and commentators, reverence for power was not questioned but celebrated. To Icke, who later became an outcast for his radical views, this devotion to the establishment revealed that true strangeness did not lie in those who broke away, but in those who worshipped the powerful uncritically. His words are thus both satire and revelation: the extraordinary often hides in the ordinary.

This wisdom has echoes in history. Consider the court of Louis XIV of France, where noblemen were reduced to fawning servants, competing for the honor of handing the king his garments in the morning. To outsiders, this adoration of monarchy seems bizarre, even grotesque. Yet to those within, it was normal, even prestigious. So too with Icke’s colleagues: their unshaken loyalty to Thatcher and the monarchy was not seen as strange, but as the natural order of things. It is only in contrast that one sees the absurdity.

The origin of Icke’s words is his own journey. He began as a professional footballer, moved into broadcasting with the BBC, and for a time was a familiar, trusted face of sports coverage. But as his life shifted into spiritual and political radicalism, he came to see the institutions he once served in a new light. His remark is a reflection of that transformation—how what he once accepted became, in hindsight, a symbol of the deep entrenchment of ideology within the corridors of media power.

The lesson is clear: what society deems “normal” may in fact be as strange, or stranger, than those who question it. We must never assume that institutions are free from bias, nor that the beliefs of the majority are inherently sound. Strangeness is not always found in the outcast; it often thrives in the heart of the establishment, hidden beneath the mask of respectability. By calling his colleagues stranger than himself, Icke urges us to reconsider what we call madness and what we call sanity.

Therefore, O listeners of tomorrow, take heed: do not be dazzled by the veil of institutions, nor by the glamour of power. Question what passes for normality. Examine whether the loyalties of those who inform, lead, and govern are guided by truth or by blind reverence. And when you find yourself mocked for strangeness, remember that conformity may be far stranger than dissent.

So let Icke’s words endure: those who bow to power may be stranger than those who resist it. The path of wisdom is to look beyond appearances, to see with clear eyes, and to measure not by what is common, but by what is true. For in the end, it is better to be called strange and free than normal and enslaved.