Let 'Em Eat Rope

This is not another piece where I swear the merits (even virtues) of the death penalty. Everyone by now knows that I believe in nothing else but DEATH for murderers so there is little point dredging up that severely flogged horse. (If ever a horse deserved being put out to stud, it is this knackered mule.)
This is about the METHOD used, or not being used as is more and more becoming the way. Back when Britain hanged its killers (instead of letting them loose to cause more mayhem after a paltry sentence as we seem to do now) the sole method was 'hanged by the neck until you are dead.' We were damned effective at it too with executioners like the great Pierrepoint, getting the condemned from his/her cell to the scaffold and hung in a mere 7 seconds. No last family visits or television interviews from death row, or a soft media attempting to show the killer in a forgiving light. No hoo-ha or trumpeting and releasing of the inmates last meal.
And without the circus, or more to the point without having a choice of different methods, the criminals went swifly to meet their punishment. Fast forward to today, if we look at the United States we see that this is not now the case. There the murderer is allowed appeal after appeal and can halt their date with death with the smallest of details. Today (26th October, 2010) is a perfect example. A brutal killer was due to die but now a judge in has blocked the scheduled execution saying 'more time is needed to consider the inmate's challenge of the state's use of a knockout drug from an unidentified source.'
Now I am not going to sit here and scoff at America's justice system and pick faults with it because that would be ridiculous coming from someone living in a place like Britain. I wish ALL the US States were like Texas who have no hesitation in putting murderers in their rightful place (ie the grave.) However the process could and should be less of a hassle and if it were then even more inmates would be pushing up daffodils.
It all got messy when people decided they wanted to be more 'humane' in putting the condemned to death. Other methods than the noose were looked into all in the eagerness to sanitise the death penalty.

Step this way

First up was the electric chair and while 'Old Sparky' was accepted after a shaky start (and is now an American icon) still it wasn't enough. Gas chambers were also popular for a time but were soon relegated when lethal injection arrived in prison death chambers. Ah lethal injection! Now this sounded like the deal maker, just what the public wanted to satisfy their need for justice, while at the same time making the execution method look no worse than visiting the dentist.
So in came the chemicals (sodium thiopental, pancuronium and potassium chloride) to wash the States hands of the more violent noose or chair. And now it has been reduced to one chemical (sodium thiopental) to put the inmate in his rightful place. (Im using the masculine 'his' purely because more men are put to death than women, at least in America.)
All this has played straight into the hands of the criminal because the more 'fiddly' the method, the more chance it has of breaching one of the prisoners rights. They can argue that the chemicals take too long to act or that they are allergic to them, and even make the case that lethal injection would be impossible due to prolonged drug abuse while in the free world. There are a whole manner of ways and exscuses to delay getting the fatal jab and sometimes avoid receiving it all .
I cannot help to think that the United States would have done well to stick to Great Britains near (not total) flawless method. Heck even the firing squad (which don't forget America also employed) had less things to go wrong than the needle. But let us not stray off the point and argue effectiveness. The simple fact of the matter is that every country which still sentences its murderers to death ought to use the gallows. It serves two important uses, namely that it is both swift in dealing out death and shows the rest of the world that YES death is on offer for perpetrators of violent crimes and NO we don't care a damn who knows it.
It is honest and upfront and far better than skulking behind curtains trying to dig for a useable vein because doing it that way only makes the watching world believe that while death is on the books, it is not truly comfortable in actually carrying the sentence out.
I for one am convinced that should it carry on like it is now then executions will become a thing of the past and when that happens all is lost. The way forward is erecting scaffolds and not being afraid of doing so. They needn't be public, just the knowledge they are used would be sufficient. A simple ONE WAY exit to the trapdoor without all this faffing around with different methods and chemicals. Doing it that way is sure way to get sidetracked and lose grip on the law.

Rattlesnakes Of Sunset Strip

1980's Los Angeles spawned a slew of great rock/metal bands, from thrash metal to hard rock. It must have been a f**king amazing scene to have been mixed up in if you had the good fortune to live there at the time.
Even before rock music claimed it, Sunset Strip had been a gltzy, glamorous place in the 1930s, 40s and 50s. There was the 'Gardens Of Allah' apartments where writers including Dorothy Parker and F.Scott Fitzgerald had lived. Make no mistake, the Strip has been the favoured haunt of many artists. One could say it was a cradle of creativity when it was in its prime.
But lets go to the 80's when rock and metal was king. If you were in a band, Sunset Strip was THE place to get noticed and make a name for yourself. Everyone from Van Halen to Guns N' Roses strutted their stuff there and hung out but for me, a young 10 year old living on the other side of the world in Wales, one band stood out. One group grabbed my attention with their wild image (which I thought was utterly beautiful) and rock/metal/punky sound and that was the awesome Motley Crue.
It must be said I loved them as soon as I clapped eyes on them, which would have been after the release of Shout At The Devil in 1983. I bought it on cassette (Cd's were a way off) and it was the cover design that first pulled me in. The flames behind Mick Mars, Nikki's wild hair underlined by those now famous thick, black lines under his eyes, Tommy staring defiantly like he was on a mission and Vince with his blonde good looks resembling a rock n' roll angel come to preach the virtues of sin. And it only got better once you pressed PLAY. I remember sitting up way past bedtime on school nights, listening to Shout At The Devil back to back on a Walkman (they were new then too) and playing 'air drums' while sitting up in bed in the dark. It a wonder I awoke for school at all.


Kickstarted my rebel heart

By the time Theatre Of Pain was released in '85 I was a total Crue head, filling my school books with scrawls of glittery pentagrams and Motley song titles. Iron Maiden, AC/DC, Kiss and Ozzy were there too of course but these dudes from Los Angeles filled with hedonistic attitudes and dangerous 'recreational pursuits' moved into a space in my heart that they occupy to this day. In hindsight I was a pretty wreckless, bratty kid myself so its little wonder they clicked with me and as I myself went on to live a life near the edge Motley were the perfect soundtrack.
Come to think about it the band released a few albums at important times of my life; the awesome Girls, Girls, Girls arrived in 1987 just as I was leaving school and 1989's Dr. Feelgood when I entered into my first 'serious' relationship with a girl. By then I was a huge fan, almost to the point of obssession. (Motley Crue and Slayer will always be the biggest bands in my life. Different sounds, same F**K You aggression.) I could draw Motley tee shirt designs using free hand and without looking at the picture. I knew them all by heart.
The bands debut offering, Too Fast For Love, I got around the same time I picked up Dr. Feelgood because it was such a hard record to get hold of back then in this tiny part of Wales. You had to go to shops which sold imported records and be grateful when your favourite band turned up.

Number ONE...erm SIXX!

Nevertheless I must be honest in this piece and while my love for the band has never really left me, my enthusiasm did wane and for a few years I did take time out from their music. In 1993 I (along with everyone else) was swept away from the hard rock scene when Nirvana almost single handedly reshaped music. Grunge was in, rock was out and to be fair it was a refreshing blast. So the Crue's 1994 self titled album 'Motley Crue' slid by without me paying it the slightest bit of attention. Ditto to Generation Swine in 1997 and 2000's New Tattoo. I had gone back to my more heavy leanings and bands like Slayer, Pantera, Cannibal Corpse and Crowbar. I don't think I ever read news about Motley Crue or read a story about them during these times (the internet back then not being as popular as now.) They simply slipped off my radar as far as their new stuff was concerned, but of course I still played the early albums.
It wasn't until 2007 (maybe 2006) that my love was rekindled for the Crue. By this time I had moved in to my new house with my wife and we set up a regular internet connection, enabling me to catch up on the recent news and gossip of artists I had grown up listening to. Naturally Motley were one of the first I checked out.
The internet is a Godsend for music fans when I look back to how fans of yesteryear got their information. Now it only takes a few clicks and one is supplied with everything you need to know in a few seconds. And man was I glad to discover that not only were Motley Crue still going (none of them had died yet shock!) but they were still releasing music. From then on my old love resurfaced and I was a re-addicted Crue head!
Online I found out about Nikki's other projects like Brides Of Destruction and the brilliant Sixx A.M. (should being in TWO cool bands be allowed?) and best of all the new Motley Crue album, Saints Of Los Angeles, in 2008. And what a record thats is! There were a few old metal/rock/whatever artists who released CDs in 2008 which managed to recapture the energy and enthusiasm of days of old and Vince and co. were definately among them. Saints went back to being what the Crue are all about; sleazy riffs, balls out attitude, cute imagery and full on rock n' roll. They went back to being the band I remember sitting up all night in dark air drumming to. They were simply Motley f**king Crue ~ the beast that never dies.
Someone really ought to make 'em Saints.

Night Errands

I sit here once again in the killing drifts of very early A.M. (12:20am to be precise) without lights, save one candle, and until ten minutes ago I was content. In fact I was more than content; I was lost in my own world as I roamed the interwebs for morbid chapters of interest, sipping on a chamomile tea. Until my cat, Skyelar, decided I needed a fright (theres a reason they got on so well with witches you know.) She sat up from her spot on the sofa (I prefer the floor myself so we switched places when she moved in) and began staring through the darkness, out into the hall.
Nobody was there of course and all was silent but kitty would not be put off. To her there WAS something out there, which of course made me think there WAS something out there too. And this is when the memory jukebox in my mind selects an article I had read at least fifteen years ago and presses PLAY. It was a piece about ghosts and which animal out of a dog, cat or rat could sense a spiritual presence the most. In turn they are locked in a supposedly haunted room; doggy varely notices a thing (no suprise there), Mr Rat is jittery and seems to be aware of something but moggy is different. The feline KNOWS that he isn't alone (cats know everything) and proceeds to skit all over the room like fat in a frying pan.
It felt like my brain was in competion with Skyelar to see who could scare me most. The black seemed to thicken as both my pet and I peered into its heart and I was quite convinced that at any moment something unpleasant would reveal itself, stepping out of the tarry hall either like Macbeth's ghost or The Wolfman.
We stayed like this for some minutes (it felt much longer) with me turning from the darkness every few seconds to look at the back of my cats head as if willing her to return the look and perhaps admit she was only winding me up. (Yeah yeah, like a cat would ever do that!)
And of course the dark plays tricks with the mind (especially one filled with crazy imagination to begin with) and combined with a silence that is usually reserved for the slumber of the dead, it can create an all too potent mixture. At times I believe it powerful enough to be able to actually pull spirits from their world into ours and give breath to creatures best kept in nightmares.
There was nothing actually in the hall of course, I could have safely got up and allowed myself to be shrouded by the shadows. There was nothing within them, no goblin with cruel eyes and razor fangs, no deathly reaper come to deliver me to the bowels of hell. All that was there was night, evaporating in a million dreams.
Skyelar went back to her pillow, releasing me from the midnight spell.
Looking back on this in the day will be hilarious because light makes even cowards bold abd there are no savage ogres waiting to seize your throat when the sun is up. (Well actually there are but those types are of this world not of the Other World, those silky spectres can only shine and come alive beneath moonlight.)

A Cutlass For Me Jar

This past week I have suffered from a most foul lurgy which sent me into pits of misery. The above title is the first thing that jumped into my head when I was trying to summon up a good description for my ills. Basically I have felt like an empty, delicate shell, shambling around in fear of setting something sharp and dangerous loose inside my soul.
At first I imagined the onset of influenza (as is the way with stupid, mere men) until I put my hand up and settled on the common cold. Day one brought the blocked sinuses and dry throat but there was something else too. Something which raked up and down my spine and attacked the bones like it was trying to tip me into an even more insufferable soup. (This is what had initially gave me the idea 'flu had somehow invaded my already toxic body.) I wished for sleep to bring me safe passage through the worst of it, but predictably no relief arrived with easy slumber.
This would have been Tuesday after swilling the usual grain the evening before, luckily however I no longer suffer hangovers otherwise I would have been in a damned sight sorrier state. Aches aside I decided it was a mere cold so ignored it and carried on with my work. (I have never been a fan of resting in bed to ease illnesses aa a previous hospital stint proved when, even at death's door, I stubbornly refused bed rest in order to wander the corridors looking for places to sneak a quiet smoke.)

Great Britain versus America

Now don't get carried away with the title, im not suggesting a massive dust up between Brits and Americans involving blood and bullets. Im talking about the much less lethal sport events and how we differ in what we enjoy. (Mind you sporting events can turn out pretty lethal in their own way.)
Here in good old Blighty the most popular sports are football (soccer) and cricket, with rugby and perhaps snooker also having a healthy share of fans. Whilst across the pond our American cousins prefer NFL (American football) baseball and basketball. Golf is enjoyed on both sides of the Atlantic but really can't compete with football, British or American.
But there is no avoiding the sporting snobbery which exists between the two countries. Some examples; over here you get people laughing at the MLB (Major Baseball League), calling it 'rounders', or we call the NFL (American football) rugby for softies who have to wear pads and helmets. And don't ask about the ridicule that NASCAR enjoys ('enjoy' probably being not the right word.)
And in the United States cricket is too boring and the five day games are not to their liking. Also soccer is too soft Stateside. (I agree with them there.)
Its great to hear of 'crossover' fans like someone in Arizona loving rugby or someone in Haverfordwest having a baseball fixation. At times the differences in sport make for a successful translation and people simply 'get it.' I myself am a good example because I love a decent hockey match or a quick blast of basketball on a games console. In fact videogames are a great way to introduce people to new sports, it was certainly my gateway into golf, basketball and NFL.
I think the only sport which has been hugely popular in both countries is wrestling and thats more pantomime than real sport. Im not bashing it, im simply saying its not a sport like rugby or NHL.
Its a shame a lot of us will not even attempt to get into a different sport or try to understand them better because if we did the sports would get new fans and more appreciation. Everyone would be a winner. I urge you dear reader to try it sometime. Maybe a Brit can get into baseball or somone in the USA get a taste for darts. It must be so bland being a sporting snob.

I Pledge Allegiance To....Anyone

One of the greatest mysteries of this world has nothing to do with black holes or the undiscovered creatures of the ocean. Its a lot closer to home actually and lies with that horrible sport of football. (Okay it can be any sport but its more prevelent in the game our American cousins like to call 'soccer'.) Football teams to be precise and why people who were not born in say Manchester support that particular team? Why do Welsh people support a team from England? Why do they wear the colours? And why do I care? Well that ones easy - because its annoying!
And I know it shouldn't bother me what other people do and who they support. They're free to support whoever they like and thats quite right, they are. Same as im free to whine like a brat on my own slice of teh interwebz.
Swansea is the nearest 'big' football club to people in Carmarthenshire, yet every day all I see are Chelsea or Manchester United jerseys. Why?? You have no connection with either place if you were not born there so you CANNOT POSSIBLY feel the same emotions when you win or lose that people who were born/live there feel. And I know this to be true because I used to 'support' the Colorado Avalanche ice hockey team but it was an empty support so I quit.


real Scarlet runs in my blood

The only sporting team I have ever REALLY supported and FELT passionate about is the Scarlets rugby team and im proud of the fact I attended Stradey comprehensive school which was just across the road from the legendary Stradey Park, the Scarlets former ground before the move to Parc Y Scarlets.
I know more than my teams history because I was brought up in Burry Port, a mere 7 miles from the club and I understand its ysbrid (spirit) and the hwyl (cheer) we get everytime we score a winning try. When old players like the late, great Ray Gravell or others write books about the Scarlets I know all of the in jokes and the grounds and pubs they mention. Someone born in Carmarthen but following Aresenal can't say that. For them the support is very distant and they know nothing of the local spirit. Its a hollow thing for sure.
I can't get my head around wanting to support Manchester United and the like, unless of course its purely for glory. And a glory hunter is a sad person. At the end of the day, to someone supporting far away teams, a win or loss is the same thing. Its simply numbers to them. Its probably similar to catching fish only to toss them back.
I fail to see the pleasure in glory only and to grow as a human you need to experience failure and defeat also. Perhaps there lies the answer, those knuckleheads with pot bellies in Manchester shirts who come from the beautiful wilds of Wales haven't grown up yet.

A Two Wheeled Addiction

Before I begin (are you sitting comfortably with a chilled beer?) let me just say that I rarely watch television. If its not sports or decent documentary then im not interested. I can list how many programmes I do watch on one hand; Bones, Coronation Street, Prison Break and er....thats it. Oh and Ice Road Truckers! But now I can add another television MUST WATCH in the form of the fantabulous and most excellent Sons Of Anarchy. Seriously, what a f**king kick ass show!
It first got aired in 2008 but due to hardly bothering with television I missed it. Yes even with all the internet trailers and adverts flying about. I had seen a few photos knocking around and loved the tattoo designs but it wasn't until a few friends on a gaming forum started raving about it that I started to take a serious interest in those guys of SAMCRO (Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original.)

Don't mess with these hairy chaps

Sons Of Anarchy (God thats an awesome title) was created by Kurt Sutter and it revolves around the lives of a motorcycle gang (sorry CLUB) who have a hand in various interests like gun running and basically protect the fictional town of Charming in the non fictional California. Protect it from other unsavoury gangs and crooks that is.
The gangs (sorry CLUB) protagonist is Jackson 'Jax' Teller who has read his fathers story (he helped found the club) and is now questioning his role as Vice President and the way SAMCRO is heading. His step-father Clay is the gangs (sorry CLUB) president and he prefers the violent ways to get things done. Its The Sopranos but with less Italian Americans and more tattoos.
And boy does it work! I thought a drama series about hell's angels would be all bar room brawls and rock music, and while theres nothing wrong with that stuff it would make for tedious drama. This is anything but tedious. Its well written, runs at a great pace and the cast is fantastic! I wasn't sure I could believe Katey Sagal as the tough wife and mother of two of the top guys of a motorcycle gang (sorry CLUB) after her stint as Peggy Bundy (Married...With Children) but she is a revelation and plays her part BRILLIANTLY as Gemma Teller Morrow. As does Charlie Hunnam who plays her onscreen son Jax Teller. (I was happy to discover he's British.)
All the cast are wonderful from Ron Perlman's ruthless Clay right down to the shows creator Mr Sutter who plays perma incarcerated Big Otto and seldom does a show get a quality of cast this good.
Oddly enough (and true to my NEED IT NOW nature) I have still not watched an episode on a television channel, I just went and bought Season One on DVD, then as soon as the show got its oily hooks into me (after half hour of the Pilot episode) I rushed out and bought Season Two. I don't think I could stand to watch the episodes once a week on television because they are so gripping and once Ive watched one I NEED to see what comes next. Thats why with the second season im watching first episode, 'Albification' straight through to closing episode, 'Na Triobloidi'. It simply must be done because im greedy when I discover something new that I enjoy and have to have my fixes all in one, juicy go.

The Swinging Man

Oh they hung Hanratty
by the neck 'til he swung dead,
some claim he was an innocent
but the gallows guts were fed.

Supporters included scouse Lennon
and his little yellow wife,
but it was all in vain
and to the noose James gave his life...

@Steven Francis poems 2010

Slipper. Sandal. Noose.

One of my quirky little dislikes are slippers and sandals. I cringe (yes really) whenever I see people wearing them. Weird huh? It must be one of my highest ranking strange dislikes, but its a very real one let me tell you. Its been with me ever since I can remember; Id go into newspaper shops to get mints on the way to school and if I spotted anyone in the shop wearing slippers (which was quite often being it was only 7.30am) I would shrivel my snout up and think 'urgh!'
And I think sandals are even worse. They truly are the devil's footwear, which is ironic really as its Jesus who is famed for sandal wear and I see Satan as more of a cowboy boot fan. Summertime on a beach was 'interesting' for me; watching all kinds of foul sandal designs being paraded by pot bellied men with labradors. Or hippy looking women in plait skirts and pearl bangles.
The simple fact of the matter is, a sandal on her foot can reduce even the worlds most beautiful women into plain old frumps. Katherine Jenkins, Lena Heady, Meryl Streep, Dame Helen Mirren, bombshells all in my eyes but as soon as one of them dips their foot inside a sandal my insatiable desire for them suddenly becomes very sated. Eww ladies (and men) put them away for Heavens sakes! You would look more appealing in saggy tights and a pair of workmen's gumboots.

Calcutta - Red, White and Blue

So the tories pledge to spend more on the armed forces and cut child benefit from 18 to 16? Along with other cuts and 'savings'. And as is the way of political parties the Conservatives blame other parties for the mess Britain is now in.
It never occurs to them (ALL parties) that the United Kingdom has been in decline for YEARS, and the fault is on the greedy plates of the lot of them, no matter what their allegiances. Nevermind about daft sounding things like 'The Big Society' and promising a brighter future (don't they all?) Lets get this country FIXED once again, not rolling along on soundbites and dunderheaded gimmicks.
Cutting help from those who need it and building fantastical (and fairytale) schemes is not any long term help to anyone. We have had these schemes since I finished school over twenty years ago and a lot are in the same place. Britain is quick becoming a mess of a country where we employ yoghurt knitters to censor nursery rhymes and pound the drum of political correct while not doing very much for the core of society.
Crime, as I have written elsewhere, is at an alarming high and the ridiculous sentences are only ever going to make the numbers RISE, never lower. Education is a shambles; have you tried getting children today into classic literature? Or ask them to point where Oman is on the map? Even try showing them a picture of Margaret Thatcher and watch the bewilderment in their eyes. Lets be honest here (and I know politicians struggle with that word), if the face you are showing youngsters today hasn't been on dire rubbish like the X Factor or adorned the side of a MacDonalds carton then they will struggle to recognise them.
So never mind with cuts and gimmicks, there are people who genuinely need help in this country and taking from them is the easy way, which in the end solves NOTHING. Crime and education ought to be the first fixed but of course they're much too hard a problem for politicians who are only in their profession to get what they can from it. They serve THEMSELVES, certainly nobody else. Blinding the population with smoke and mirrors, and all that achieves is suffocation and blood.

The River Ryder Splosh

Well here it is, the opening day of the first Ryder Cup in Wales and the rain has stopped play at 10am. Who would have thunk it? The only good thing to report is the fact that Europe are UP in the first few holes. But its a very miserable beginning for us Welsh. First impressions are a huge deal in sporting events (indeed in everything) and I can't help thinking that this near biblical downpour has put a severe dent in our 'Welsh welcome'.
How different it would have been if this had been held in the glorious June we had here in the valleys. Don't forget dear reader, its not only the golf that we have been promoting here, its everything Welsh; our countryside, splendid castles, coastline and wonderful places to visit. Of course it would have been better if everything had been bathed in sunlight rather than grey, soupy rain but on the bright side (no pun intended) we must make the best of it.

*Rain Intermission*

Seven hours later and 5pm, the rain has finally found somewhere else to irritate for now Wales is awash with not glassy puddles but sunlight, blue skies and calm conditions.