A monster in female form.

Every so often I'll read something that makes me rethink my stance on the death penalty. I'm normally against killing people, believing rightly or wrongly that people ought to pay for their crimes yet remain breathing, and somewhere dimly in the back of my mind I believe we don't have a right to take another life. However in this case I'd just put this woman down.

"Tiffany Hall said she knew she would never get out of an Illinois prison after being sentenced to life for killing a pregnant friend to take her unborn baby."
"I will never get out," Hall said softly after St. Clair County Circuit Judge Milton Wharton asked during the hearing if she understood the magnitude of the sentence, the Belleville (Ill.) News-Democrat reported."

"In court, Haida recounted the shocking details of the crime that began on Sept. 15, 2006.

Hall struck her friend Jimella Tunstall, 23, on the head repeatedly with a table leg at Hall's mother's house, then cut Tunstall's fetus from her womb in a bathtub. After Tunstall bled to death, Hall dumped her body in an East St. Louis lot, Haida said.

Hours later, Hall told police in Illinois she had been sexually assaulted in St. Louis and given birth to a stillborn child after the attack. When police arrived, she had the dead fetus with her, claiming it was her own. She refused to be examined at a hospital.

Three days later, Hall visited the father of two of Tunstall's children and the unborn child, Haida said. The father treated all the children as his own, and was caring for them, Haida said. Hall lied to the father, saying Tunstall wanted him to let her pick up the children and Tunstall's vehicle, he told police.

"He relayed to the officers that was the last time he saw his three children," Haida said.

Hall then drowned the three children — DeMond Tunstall, 7, Ivan Tunstall-Collins 2, and Jinella Tunstall, 1 — in the same bathtub where she killed their mother, Haida said.

Authorities said Hall's story began to unravel on Sept. 21, 2006 at the funeral for the fetus, when she told her boyfriend, home on leave from the military, that the baby wasn't his and that she killed a pregnant woman and stole the fetus. He told police.

The bodies of the three children were found two days later hidden in a washer and dryer inside the East St. Louis apartment where the children lived with their mother.

Hall later told authorities that she "had contemplated taking Ms. Tunstall's unborn child for quite some time," Haida said. He said she bought rubbing alcohol, a sharp object and a nasal aspirator a week before the attack.

One of Hall's attorneys, James Gomric, said Hall had been mentally fit to stand trial, but also said she had unresolved mental health issues and tested at an IQ in the mid-70s. After the court proceedings, Gomric said he could not speak to a motive in the case, or discuss if his client had ever shown remorse."

Glorifying Death.

There has been a spate of teenage suicides in the UK and at long last one paper has actually touched on something that I have long thought.

A reverence of mumbo jumbo has a lot to answer for, and one of those things is our attitude to death. This is something I've noticed more and more over the last few years.
We glorify death, we make it seem romantic, tragic and airy-fairy. No one is ever dead, they're sleeping, they've 'gone back to god' they're 'angels' they're 'legends', they're 'at peace' they're 'looking down on us from heaven.'
You know what? They're not. And we need to stop pretending they are.
They're dead and any potential at a life has died with them. They are corpses. They are rotting under the ground, worm food, decomposing, empty shells, everything that they once were, what they they could have become, died the moment their heart stopped.
Dead. Over. Finito. Gone.
Suicides, especially teenage suicides bother me the most and it's time we called a spade a spade. When a teenager kill his or her self this is what happens.
They will never laugh again, they will never celebrate another birthday, they will never go to the cinema again, they will never go for a walk on a beautiful frosty morning. They will never watch CSI on a friday evening eating popcorn. They will never have a gossipy bitching session with friends again. They will never be on Bebo again. They will never go to another concert. They will never buy that dress, that play station game, a new car. They will never go on holiday, get sunburn and drink too many cheap cocktails. They will never read a beautiful novel on a rainy winter day. They will never eat Malteasers and Vanilla ice cream again, never drink a good glass of red wine. Never lie in the arms of a lover, flushed and grinning, easing the cramp out of their toes.
All of the fantastic moments life can provide will never be realised. They will lie cold in the grave, over, done, forgotten about. And yes, we do forget, memories fade, the sharp pain of loss recedes. We remember the dead in an abstract way, but out of sight and out of mind. We, who continue to live, will grieve for who we lose, we will mourn their passing, but we will live, we will get over it, we will experience everything life has to offer us, good bad and indifferent. we will live on, we will have moments of high joy, and boredom, and grief, and delight, and anger and frustration and every other emotion that ONLY the living enjoy.
The ridiculous overblown nonsense posted on condolence sites is -in my view- an insult to life. Take Kath French's tribute page. Here are a few examples.
"Katy, may God bless you and keep you in his care. I can only imagine how you look now, more beautiful now that your an Angel...'

"RiP Katy Happy 2K8 even if its a lil late Hope ur bein looked after well up der Always in mii <3 xXx

"katy i never new you in person but your death has really saddend me . i hope one day when it is my time i'll meet u lot..."

"kathy u were a true star whogot the chance 2 shine on earth now shine in heaven!!! we all make mistakes but who are we 2 judg..."

See what I mean? You're in heaven, you're shining like a star, anything but what she is, dead. Can you imagine a vulnerable teenager reading that tripe and thinking ' look at the outpouring of love. if I killed myself I'd be famous, people would care. I'd get a tribute page. I'd make an impact.'
It's bollocks of the ugliest order. We need to stop trivialising death. No disrespect to clever teenagers, but a lot of teenagers are dolts. They look at things like this and inexplicably are mightily impressed.
Listen up kids and would be suicides. When you die you will never ever have another chance to make your life better, you will never become anything other than a corpse. Life is fleeting, is is fragile. Fight for it, make it your own, don't ever give up. Live it. Enjoy it as best you can and remember one thing, on your blackest day, wait, hold on, give it 24 hours, maybe the next day will be better. Maybe you can make it better. Call somebody.
You will never be an angel, you will never 'see' your loved ones again. Words on tributes pages are just that, words, they will never replace true love,a family, a beating heart, a future.
Fame is fleeting, death is eternal.
There are no second chances, this is not the time to gamble on an after life.
Make a good choice.
Live

Animals, food, cruelty and us.

I have been watching a programme called' Kill it Cook it Eat' it every evening this week on BBC 3. ( I know I blogged about it before too) This Programme, for anyone who had not heard of it, shows the progression of the animals in question, from breeder to yard to abattoir to plate and includes a live studio audience who get to watch the slaughter and preparation of said animal. And also, should they wish, they get to taste the end result.
"The programme asks how these animals are raised, where they come from, and how they're killed and gutted. Should taste take priority over the welfare of the animal? And, ultimately, how young is too young when it comes to eating baby animals?"
On Monday it was piglets, to be made into suckling pig. Last night it was kid goats.
Now it is seriously disturbing viewing. You can see the little wee things being herded into the slaughter yard, gamboling and nervy, then they are stunned one by one with a bolt gun, then, still kicking, they are hoisted on to a chain and their throats are slit. As the blood gushed and splatters the walls, they kick their last.
It is gruesome and hard to watch.
But I believe if you are a meat eater-and I am- then you should watch, you should know from whence your food comes. You should know that when you sit down to a Sunday roast that what you are about to pour gravy over was one a young creature who had a mother and siblings and a life of its own, and that its life was cut short so that we might eat it.
I don't, I have to say, have a problem with watching slaughter, I'm from farming stock and I'm a meat eater, although I did feel bad for the age of the kids last night, it does seem awful because they are so young and so gosh darned cute. But mature goat meat is rather like mature sheep or mutton, vile. It is only when the animal is below a certain age that it is tasty to most palates.
It was however a pleasure to watch how these particular animals were raised. Not in the dark, not in tiny suffocating pens and not in pain or discomfort.
And this, not their deaths, is the point of my post today.
Jamie Oliver is hosting a show on Friday night on the wretched channel 4 which will highlight the condition in which chickens are kept and slaughtered. Expect footage of chickens being electrocuted and unwanted male chicks being suffocated.
The sequence is part of the TV chef's crusade to highlight the cruelty of battery farming, the show Jamie's Fowl Dinners, urges consumers and retailers to switch to birds reared under better welfare conditions.
Now top blogger and waiting supremeo Manuel has a link over on his site where you can register in an effort to improve the plight of our most eaten bird. If you have any interest in the welfare of our animals and food source it might be an idea to pop on over and sign.
As a meat eater I understand there is a level of cruelty involved the preparation of my dinner. Death is always ugly, and while most slaughter men do a quick and efficient job, there are some who do not. There is no need for any cruelty in the life of my dinner pre-slaughter house. The idea of animals packed tightly into cages, unable to turn, to sit, or to sleep disturbs me. The fact that some chickens from the moment they are born are kept in total darkness to keep them quiet is bothersome.
Eating an animal that has not had the chance to mature is against my better nature too. Yes there is a food chain, but where I stand on that chain is up to me.
Certainly over the last year or so my red meat intake has gone way down. I won't eat lamb or kid for that matter any longer, I no longer eat pork-except for rashers, which might also get the chop. I still like a good steak, but if I never ate one again I don't think I would weep. But chicken is a staple part of my diet-as is fish. However I now see clearly I have a very definite choice when it comes to what type of chicken I eat. And I will from now on be putting my money where my gob is. I will be seeking out only Irish bred chicken, nothing from Thailand or Asia where the standards of living for the birds is terrible, I will seek out free range birds where ever possible, and I will be taking more care and paying more attention to what and how my dinner was raised.
I will still eat chicken, unless that goes by the wayside too, and god knows anything is possible, but I will endeavour to remove my link from the chain of suffering some of these creature are subjected to.
I am not against using animals for food, but I am firmly against making them suffer before hand.

Katy French has died.

Katy French, the 24 year old Irish model died earlier this evening in Navan Hospital. Gardai have just today launched an investigation into the cause of her death. She had collapsed at a house party on Sunday night and hadn't regained consciousness
Let the Independent commence with the hand wringing and blaming. Who will they blame first? What twaddle and spin can they release?
What a horrible start to the Christmas holiday. Her poor parents. I may not have thought much of their daughter, but I feel nothing but sympathy for them and the rest of her family.
RIP Katy.