Bulger to Baby P

First the killers of James Bulger walk. Passim.

Now these specimens.

What in God's name is the point of yammering on about how wunnerful the Internet is if - years on - Venables and Thompson are still at large?

I thought we were meant to be sleuths of the night, skilled communicators sharing clues and tips, rough justice ours, the clumsy law outfooted.

Photos and Twittered sightings ... pointing fingers ....

In truth, on our track record to date, we're Knackers of the Yard no better than PC Plod.

And Baby P? Surely to God *this* time we'll get it right ... a few good vigilantes doing their Chato's Land tracking thing ~ and then getting medieval with blow torch and tongs.

One more feeble performance over this "new identities" rubbish and I'll seriously think of calling in the Mountain Man and ending this anonymity protection crap farce once and for all.

Wall of Shame: Baby P "carers" on the scrounge - and what a pinch-faced gallery of shrews they look up there.

(Still some juice in the blow-torch? When you've done with it)

Sex-obsessed slob used TV to drown screams ~ not often you get to gag over a line like that.

I think the lads should keep the house blisterer for the Connelly con et al and I'll customize my own for the "carers".

Anonymity Unlikely: Kudos for the 'Net, court orders toothless to prevent new IDs being broadcast across websites based abroad. Killers' notoriety increases likelihood of discovery. So it's not all doom and gloom :-)

Guilt cannot be nameless - the FT's Christopher Caldwell is too brainy and writes at too exhausting a length for Corfucian Irregulars, but that doesn't mean I won't include pieces like this in case some hardy soul wanders in.