You only have to look at the spoilt, petulant, sulky face of North Korea's fat boy leader Kim Jong-il to know that here is a misfit with an appetite for inventive cruelty that would credit a Bond villain. The Emperor Tiberius was the same - lunch guests at his Capri villa could never be sure whether they'd end the meal with a petit four wrapped in their toga or being flung from the clifftop. The terror would be enough to drive one to drink; did I smile and clap enough? Did the fat boy catch me frowning? I don't give much for the admiral's chances (below) - he's probably already been dragged to death from one of his own destroyers.
The point of making this post is because I can. I don't have any North Korean readers (though I've had 25 pageviews from Indonesia this week so far) and any I did have who'd been caught reading this page would now be on their way to one of fat boy's penal colonies or worse. There are too many repulsive little shits like fat boy Kim Jong-il in this world to ever deny ourselves the right of free expression.