'The Beheading' is the title piece of this spectacular collection of true stories and commentaries. It is an eye-witness account of a beheading in the desert kingdom of Saudi Arabia where the author witnessed savage and soul-destroying punishments. They are recounted in this book with great clarity and brutal honesty, but with the sensitivity and poignancy born of the insight of a man who has studied the culture and history of this land with meticulous care. But these stories are not for the squeamish. They are required reading for those who are concerned about the inhumane and barbaric practices carried out around the world and have the stomach to read of such chilling things. Included in this collection is a shocking account of an adulterous woman stoned to death. 'Women Are Always To Blame' achieves a particular relevance in light of recent worldwide concerns about this practice. In 'Extracts from my Diary', Bob Crew reveals how his predictions regarding what would not change in Saudi Arabia in the new Millennium have been remarkably prescient.

Like Kafka's The Castle, Invitation to a Beheading embodies a vision of a bizarre and irrational world. In an unnamed dream country, the young man Cincinnatus C. is condemned to death by beheading for "gnostical turpitude," an imaginary crime that defies definition. Cincinnatus spends his last days in an absurd jail, where he is visited by chimerical jailers, an executioner who masquerades as a fellow prisoner, and by his in-laws, who lug their furniture with them into his cell. When Cincinnatus is led out to be executed, he simply wills his executioners out of existence: they disappear, along with the whole world they inhabit.

Liam O'Donnel, an Irish boy growing up in Scotland, is often the focus of Donal McLaughlin's hilarious and harrowing short stories, and in beheading the virgin mary, he continues this loose narrative, interspersed -- every second story -- with unrelated reports. Here, Liam steps in dog dirt on his way to Sunday Mass; Bloody Sunday is experienced as a series of phone calls to the home of a Scottish neighbor; and the title story introduces the next generation of O'Donnells. With his keen ear and inimitable spirit, the always innovative McLaughlin is one of the brightest lights of contemporary European fiction.

Called “brilliantly devastating” in a starred review from Kirkus Reviews, this award-winning, mesmerizing novel, based on the chilling true story of the last execution in Denmark’s history, asks a question that plagues a small Danish town: does a fifteen-year-old boy deserve to be put to death? On February 22, 1853, a fifteen-year-old Niels Nelson is prepared to be executed on Gallows Hill. The master carpenter comes to measure Niels for his coffin. The master baker bakes bread for the spectators. The messenger posts the notice of execution in the town square. The poet prepares his best pen to record the events as they unfold. A fly, Niels’s only companion in the cell, buzzes. A dog hovers by his young master’s window. A young girl hovers too, pitying the boy. The executioner sharpens his blade. This remarkable, wrenching story is told with the alternating perspectives of eleven different bystanders—one per hour—as the clock ticks ever closer to the moment when the boy must face his fate. Niels Nielson, a young peasant, was sentenced to death by beheading on the dubious charges of arson and murder. Does he have the right to live despite what he is accused of? That is the question the townsfolk ask as the countdown begins. With strong social conscience, piercing intellect, and masterful storytelling, Jesper Wung-Sung explores the age-old question: who determines who has the right to live or die?

What is the fascination that decollation holds for us, as individuals and as a culture? Why does the idea make us laugh and the act make us close our eyes? Losing Our Heads explores in both artistic and cultural contexts the role of the chopped-off head. It asks why the practice of decapitation was once so widespread, why it has diminished—but not, as scenes from contemporary Iraq show, completely disappeared—and why we find it so peculiarly repulsive that we use it as a principal marker to separate ourselves from a more “barbaric”or “primitive” past? Although the topic is grim, Regina Janes’s treatment and conclusions are neither grisly nor gruesome, but continuously instructive about the ironies of humanity’s cultural nature. Bringing to bear an array of evidence, the book argues that the human ability to create meaning from the body motivates the practice of decapitation, its diminution, the impossibility of its extirpation, and its continuing fascination. Ranging from antiquity to the late nineteenth-century passion for Salomé and John the Baptist, and from the enlightenment to postcolonial Africa’s challenge to the severed head as sign of barbarism, Losing Our Heads opens new areas of investigation, enabling readers to understand the shock of decapitation and to see the value in moving past shock to analysis. Written with penetrating wit and featuring striking illustrations, it is sure to captivate anyone interested in his or her head.

Subterfuge and assassination bring this thrilling series to an end. Despite the odds, the Imperium has triumphed. The orks have been defeated and the Great Beast is no more. Across the length and breadth of the galaxy, humankind celebrates its salvation, and relishes the prospect of a return of peace. But the war against the orks has riven the political bedrock of the Imperium, exposing its rotten core. One man, one powerful man, decides he has the solution, and launches a campaign of destruction so terrible that thousands of years later his actions will still be viewed with horror. And all the while, the true enemy watches and waits in the starless depths of space; an eternal evil that desires only to devour the souls of every living human soul in the galaxy.

Focusing purely on Queen Elizabeth II's relationship with television, this book shows how she was ahead of the game in helping to change the face of British television from the outset of her reign in 1953 when she let the cameras into Westminster Abbey. The Queen embraced television at a time when Winston Churchill and her government advisors recommended that she should keep them out - on the grounds that the cameras would destroy her royal mystique - right through the 1950s which was Britain's television decade (for reasons that are not generally understood today), when Britain became the first nation in the world to have public service television. In 1969 the Queen opened the doors to the cameras once again for the invention of Britain's first family-reality-TV, fly-on-the-wall programme, showing how she and her husband the Duke of Edinburgh and their children, Charles and Anne, went about their daily lives, thereby giving the seal of royal approval to reality-TV, ahead of the first programmes in the United States and the UK that followed in her wake. Queen Elizabeth II can accurately be described as a television queen, the first monarch to understand and embrace television and, in particular reality-TV, which is why she was light years ahead of other royals and her government ministers. Television became her rites of passage and, not until she ran into bad and stormy weather with Princess Diana in the 1980s and 1990s, did she have any image problems with television. Queen Elizabeth II remains the most televised and visualised person in the world.