Odds and sods
Robert Maudsley looks like he might croak at any moment. In the meantime, I have been having my doubts about the capital's culture of gun-crime fear - do rising levels of gun ownership necessarily equate to rising levels of murder or assault? - but I have neither the inclination nor the wherewithal to emulate Hamilton's recent flair with facts and stats, so I'll let that one drop..jpg)
[Doesn't the foreshortening in this look a little strange - tiny legs...? No? Maybe not...]
I do, however, think we should try to resurrect the weregild, a measured system of criminal retribution that flourished in pre-mediaeval Scandinavia, if only to counteract this country's often hysterical attitude towards 'justice'. In other news, I've discovered a healthy crop of white-supremacist amateur poetry which I commend to you, dear reader, from the heart of my bottom. And if all else fails, you can always live as Sawney Bean did. All that is required is a restless libido and woman who shares your limited scope for employment and morality.
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One of those Nazis ripped of Kipling's 'Young British Soldier'. Bastards. They won't be getting my vote. Still, in spite of feeling a little soiled I'm glad to see there are still young people using the ballad form and common meter and cross-rhyming and such.
I must stress, by the way, that despite the themes of the last few posts, the Newt in no way endorses the national socialist lifestyle.
So he did. Completely shameless. He hasn't even made any parodic changes. How does he sleep at night?
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