Philly Blunt

Freelance writer. Editor and web-video producer. Former Atlantic City Press and Philadelphia Weekly staff writer, City Paper managing editor/columnist and Dougherty for Senate campaign manager. Comments welcome here or emailed to brianhickey9 [at] hotmail. Now on: Facebook (Brian Hickey, in Philly) Twitter at Flickr at Be sure to check out Hickey on Divorce Court:

18 July 2008

Die, Scott, Die

Say some guy slaughtered his wife and unborn child, got convicted of both murders and headed off to Death Row. You'd think justice was served, right? Well, you would unless you were one of those utterly shameless Kumbaya whistlers who think nobody should be put to death, no matter how horrific their crimes.
Thing is: We're living in a nation chock full 'o shameless Kumbaya whistlers. Even worse, a continent chock full 'o them, apparently.
Because this week brought word that the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty was facilitating Scott Peterson's blogging from his deserved cell in San Quentin. His dead wife's mother -- which makes her the dead unborn child's grandmother -- talked about it on Larry King the other night. So, controversy will surely follow.
Now, I'm not going to say people on death row shouldn't have any contact with the outside world. I suppose it's OK that they do, if only to serve as a wound saltener. But what I am going to say is that people on death row should be put to death within, oh, I could even live with 10 years, of their conviction. But methinks the Canadian Coalition Against the Death Penalty, or NAMBLA, will likely use this as some sort of "Oh, look. He's suffering. Can anybody stop the horrors? The death penalty's bad. So, so bad." Watch. They will martyr this scumbag. And you hippies will fall for it, saying that we can't put Scotty down like a mutt with mange since there's a .00000000000000000000001 chance he's innocent.
All of which is to say, should this NAMBLA group continue facilitating Mange's blogging, I hope we get to the entry which reads ...

"I'm strapped to a gurney and they're putting a needle in my arm. Feeling very, very sleepy. Wait! Who's that? Is that you, Satan? Oh, wow, how great to finally meet you! I always knew we'd be together... [end]."


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