Mostly green

Ok a not quite so green theme here, but I've always wanted a motorbike. And I've always listened to the people who've said how dangerous they are, and I've had relatives and friends badly injured and killed on motor bikes.
But last week I chatted with someone about my age who was just getting into biking, and I thought I'm going to at least have a go at the CBT (compulsory basic training).
Uncharacteristically I quickly booked myself on a CBT course and actually completed it today. I felt out of place, the place being basically a garage with an office and a small changing/seminar room attached. (I have never owned a car. Had a few lessons, didn't enjoy it.)
There were four of us doing the training, the other three all half my age, car drivers, and some biking experience. They talked loudly about "fucking V6 voxies" and "daft blue wheel trims" etc., and were all keen to move on to bigger bikes as quickly as possible. They seemed bemused by my comment about being in no hurry.
The instructors were both about my age, both quite good at swearing. (I tried it in my teens but never quite got the hang of it.) One of them protested slightly too much I thought. He had police contacts, for example, therefore could travel at 200 mph without fear of prosecution, whilst being in total control of course. If any of us quoted him he would hunt us down. He owns an extremely hard dog. Etc. He also assessed our knowledge of the Highway Code. He said he was worried about me because I was shy and quiet, I replied I was simply ignorant, which raised minor titters. I made more of an effort thereafter, shouting out "a car doors width" got me positive feedback. His was the penultimate theory session anyway, before we went out onto real roads.
Previous to that we'd practised in the yard. I was very good at stalling the engine and riding into cones. The instructor was very good (the one who didn't protest too much), got me to relax and take it slow, and assured me that I was doing well. He also told me I was ham-fisted and had the touch of an elephant, which was fair enough. Odd, I'm normally such a gentle soul.
I was rather nervous setting out onto the real road. We had radio headsets on, and I was asked to lead out our group (we went out in two groups of three, the instructors behind the learners). The radio was crackly and I'm possibly going deaf, so things went wrong pretty quickly, i.e. I missed a turn very early on. We stopped, the volume got turned up, and I assured the instructor I would shake my head if I didn't understand a communication.
I went too fast initially, and kept stalling at junctions, forgetting to change down. I remembered to switch off the indicator only about twice. After about an hour though I felt slightly more comfortable, and I actually enjoyed the sweeping corners, and even enjoyed the speed (which I didn't in a car).
Anyway the whole CBT course took about 6 hours excluding breaks, and I would recommend it to anyone even vaguely interested in motorcycling.
I look back at my car driving lessons and they were so pedantic and boring in comparison.
I'm looking to buy a 125 to get more road experience for a year or so before I do the proper bike test, meanwhile I'll do the theory.

I was reduced to poaching livestock that last winter, there was nothing else to eat. Men were everywhere, chopping down the forest, putting up fences, digging, damming...
So I wasn't surprised when I was finally cornered. I'd been about to jump a wall, having eaten most of a calf, when I heard the click of a rifle being cocked. And I hesitated. Then I turned towards the sound. Then I just sat and waited. It happened very spontaneously, I didn't decide to die. But once I'd hesitated, that was it.
He advanced slowly, as if allowing me to see him. I saw his eyes lit large, fearful yet malevolent, much like mine I imagine. It was clear he wished me harm, so I leapt forward.
My death was quick and not too painful. I remember experiencing a loud bang, blinding light, and paralysis. My jaws wouldn't work, my throat was a bloody gorge, I tried to move my legs and my whole body convulsed. I looked into the eye of my killer. I'm ready to die, I said. For an alarming moment I thought he wouldn't, then he finished me off. His eyes looked my mother's.

This is so simple, it really is. The only people who should be locked up are those who are persistently violent towards others. (I'd ideally include all animal species as "others" but I'll be realistic. One step at a time. Lets start with humans.)
So fraudsters, thieves, damagers of property, non-payers of taxes, blackmailers etc., either pay a fine or do community service, number of hours calculated to repay the financial cost of their crime.
And community service would be proper work, by the way. Also useful, possibly rewarding work. Eight hours a day working allotments for housebound pensioners. Renovating buildngs. Improving the environment generally. Supervised by hard but fair people with an old fashioned work ethic. (No, I'm not one of them, I'm a lazy sod.)
I was thinking of writing to Jacqui Smith about this but I doubt if she'd get to read it, or, if she did, she wouldn't do anything about it. I know, thats cynical, defeatist, but I think realistic. The law is basically about protection of property and power, not persons.
But yeah I'll write to her anyway.