THERE was a time when Sid Vicious was seen as one of the greatest threats to the moral welfare of British youth.

As a member of the notorious Sex Pistols, he was the punk world’s hero more for his behaviour than his musical ability.

His violent stage acts, self-mutilation and scorn for convention shocked the Establishment.

Thirty years ago tomorrow he was arrested on suspicion of murder after the body of his girlfriend Nancy Spungen was found in their New York hotel room.

They had been staying in room 101 of the Chelsea Hotel in Greenwich Village, a staging post of the weird, eccentric and talented.

Dylan Thomas was staying there when he sank into his last alcoholic coma. Perhaps, with such associations, it was inevitable that Vicious should choose to stay there with Nancy, his girlfriend, soul-mate and fellow junkie.

On the morning of October 12, 1978, Vicious phoned the police to say that “someone” had stabbed her. A trail of blood led from the bed to the bathroom where she lay under the sink.

It looked like the Sex Pistol was responsible and he was charged with second degree murder before being sent to a prison’s detoxification unit.

But in his few remaining weeks, Vicious denied murdering his punk floozy from Philadelphia. He even wrote a loving poem about Nancy, sent to her mother, Deborah Spungen.

There are some today who think the man was almost certainly too stupefied by drugs to carry out any physical act.

Whatever the truth, on February 2 the following year, Vicious, by then on bail, accompanied a number of people, including his mother, Anne Beverley, to an apartment.

There, he injected almost pure heroin. He appeared to glow for a few moments.

“Jesus, son, that must have been a good hit,” said his mother, herself an addict, minutes before he died.

Vicious was just 21.

The story of Sid and Nancy was later told in a film of the same name, with Gary Oldman in the lead role.

He was praised for an uncanny portrayal of the young punk who appeared to be on a self-destruct mission.

Critics said director Alex Cox had managed to achieve a masterful level of docu-realism.

Bassist Glen Matlock, who toured with the Sex Pistols for two years and co-wrote, amongst others, punk anthems Pretty Vacant and God Save the Queen, summed him up years later.

“Sid Vicious made the Sex Pistols what they are today,” he said.

THE paradise holiday island of Bali resembled a war zone as the world reeled from the latest terrorist outrage on October 12, 2002.

Tourists and islanders were stunned by two explosions which ripped through a Kuta beach nightclub, killing almost 200 people and injuring hundreds more.

Holidaymakers enjoying a Saturday night out on the resort’s main street told of nightmarish scenes.

Bloodied survivors fled the bar, some with limbs blown off. Cars and motorbikes parked outside were burning, forming a wall of flames blocking people’s escape.

Experts immediately blamed the attacks on terrorists linked to Osama bin Laden.

Foreign Secretary Jack Straw

Mr Straw said the attack had been “committed by the most evil and most perverted people who think that some political aim of theirs can be achieved by attacking mainly young people who are enjoying themselves and also in turn contributing a great deal to the Indonesian economy.”