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What rough beast…

July 24, 2007

Day 20,400-something of my captivity in Babylon began fairly uneventfully.

I visited the daughters of the land beneath the Fred Meyer Marketplace marquee without an urban incident requiring a 911 call. I took the news, the news that our county prosecutor is not going to seek the death penalty against the latest child snatcher-murderer, without taking to the streets or simply screaming. Yes, a deal is a deal, after all.

Deals run deep, of course. The secret to success, if you want to be a child killer and live, is to hide the body very well. This will cause unbearable pressure for closure on all concerned. Then you can cut a deal that you will disclose where you dumped your victim’s body in exchange for the State agreeing not to seek the appropriate penalty. It seems to work every time. The State never plays hardball. The prosecutor never says, “We won’t flay you with piano wire if you tell us; we’ll inject you.” Nope. Just tell us where you stashed her, and it’s free lunch for life.

Another trade secret, deployed by a child rapist, is to speak an arcane language for which there is no certified court interpreter. This flummoxes the system so that you cannot receive a speedy trial. Then you can get the charges dropped entirely–even if you attended high school and community college in the United States and spoke to detectives in English. But justice is blind. Sometimes very, terribly blind.

Oh, and for jailbirds and others wanting distraction, HBO will offer free sex therapy on prime time next season. I’m providing this link because Jayne’s blog, The Paleoconservative Primer, is worthwhile, not because I’m pushing the show. By then people should know how Harry Potter ends. I already do and I didn’t read the book. I have snitches in anomalous places. Hint: It’s a bore.

We, the captives of Babylon, do not salute this. We wait. Our mentors waited nearly 500 years. I could wait 500 years and probably never learn to wait any better, or to be a better friend. I am beholden to grace to allay my indignation at what God has deemed mete judgment. May grace take hold of me quickly.

  1. July 24, 2007 8:33 pm

    “He which testifieth these things saith, Surely I come quickly. Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus. ”

    Rev. 22:20.

  2. scribbles2day permalink
    July 24, 2007 9:33 pm

    Imagine the atrocities of personal daily rebellion and snuffing of God and whatever indignation concerning our neighbor will pale by comparison. Grace again. I am no different than the guy on the police line-up except God did something of His own mercy. In fact, the line-up is what we called home before God called us. My neighbor is small potatoes.

    There is a sin that is far greater than any imaginable under the sun. The rejection of God’s only Son, but to us that’s small potatoes. Insanity!

  3. July 26, 2007 1:12 pm

    Re: “free lunch for life”: Last year a man on death row was interviewed a few days before he was executed. In the context of asking about his typical day on death row, the interviewer asked what he liked to read.

    “Well, my favorite author at the moment is Dean Koontz, but I read anything from fantasy to fiction to nonfiction to religious books. I guess my favorite series right now, of course, is Harry Potter, so I’m waiting for that book seven to come out. I might do some puzzles. I write poetry, I write music.”

    Mike asked why a man on death row had the ideal life of an intellectual, and for “extra credit,” who should repent of it. That was a memorably informative article.

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