So, here in Cali some of the news is full of Stanley Tookie Williams and how he’s fixing to die.

Straight out I am anti-death penalty. I think that eye for an eye logic that it’s got going for it is antedeluvian, you know, before the flood, seriously old school. Evolving (yeah, fucking evolution again), evolving as a society means you got to beat weapons to plowshares and find new civilized behaviors.

Chief, then, is not killing in the fucking sacred name of no one. No killing.

Still and all, there’s some tiny reptile part of my brain that’s kind of comfy with Ahnold basically telling his old Venice Beach lifting buddy, “Tough shit, man, you going to die.”

All of the Nobel-prize-nominated reform shit was starting to get on my nerves. You can’t gangland style mow down a few guys and a whole fucking Asian family and be totally a saint. Maybe if you were doing a Joan of Arc soldier for the lord thang, and you, like, had to kill. Maybe, then you are a philosopher, king, statesman, saint and bound for glory.

Co-founder of a huge syndicate of thugs and criminals, though, not a demi-god, not a saviour. Maybe it’s sad and all, the human story, the beginning of a youth looking for a cause and a family, a neighborhood organization to improve his world. Maybe people do change. Maybe his redemption was to have lived to write about his mistakes.

I want everyone on death row granted clemency with life imprisonment but no death penalty. I want prison reform and flawless justice and healthcare and counseling and outreach and addiction assistance and all kinds of just societal shite that would lessen crime and give everyone a chance. I want peace in our time.

Nonetheless, I don’t feel good about deifying stone killers.