Saturday, October 11, 2025

West Yorkshire: former ‘emo’ band frontman and convicted paedophile Ian Watkins killed in prison stabbing attack

An illustration in the expressive, painterly style of Fritz Willis, depicting a sorrowful teenage girl from the early 2000s ‘emo’ subculture. She sits slumped on the floor, her black hair framing a tear-streaked face heavy with disillusionment. Dressed in a black top with purple-striped sleeves, fishnet tights, and scuffed Converse trainers, she embodies the aesthetic of youthful melancholy. In her hand she clutches a Lostprophets album, its cover bearing the image of the band’s frontman, while another record lies abandoned beside her. The composition captures the instant of betrayal that comes when one’s idols collapse under the weight of their own depravity—the anguish of an innocent fan confronting the corruption of what once gave her solace. Warm sepia tones and soft shading lend the scene a bittersweet intimacy, transforming adolescent grief into a timeless study of lost faith and violated trust.
image generated via ChatGPT

{Sky News 11 October} ‘Lostprophets singer Ian Watkins dies after attack in prison’

I could not name a single Lostprophets song: their music remains a complete and blessedly vacant space in my memory—a footnote I never cared to read. They were one of those wretchedly formulaic ‘emo’ outfits that flourished among the younger cohort in the 2000s—the kids who were approximately ten years my junior, give or take—appealing to adolescent angst through distortion pedals and cosmetic despair. The sort of sound, such as I heard of it, that is utterly alien to my own more symphonic and intricate musical inclinations.

But while their ‘art’ passed me by entirely, I remember with sickening clarity the revelations that did emerge concerning their frontman, Ian Watkins. The crimes were of a wickedness so foul, so venomous to the very essence of mankind, that even the most jaded reader of true-crime reportage might have flinched. I will not reiterate the particulars—they are readily found elsewhere, and one need not pollute the mind—but suffice it to say they represented the nadir of human degeneracy.

Justice eventually found Ian Watkins, albeit years too late for the innocence he annihilated. Some creatures are beyond reclamation; alas, many of them are in positions of power and shall never—at least in this mortal span—be brought to bear for their iniquities. Each of us might name a rogue of that breed, perhaps an orange and elderly one, yeah? And there is no rhyme or reason whatsoever as to who God blesses with fortune and favour, as opposed to those He oppresses. More often than not throughout the history of humanity, good people suffer while the cruel ascend, arrayed in gold and glory for their wickedness. The cosmos keeps no ledger of justice—only irony.

Providence, it seems, doth mete out mercy with no more discernment than a drunkard casting darts. Yet, every now and again, it striketh a bull’s eye. —Arthur Newhook, 11 October 2025.

Copyright 2025, Arthur Newhook. FULL LIST OF LINKS - linktr.ee/arthurnewhook. DONATIONS GRATEFULLY ACCEPTED on Cash App ($ANewhook).

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