To Hell With The Death Penalty

Lucasville, OH (AP 14 Jan 2003): A murderer whose claims of mental retardation were rejected by the courts was executed Wednesday after struggling with guards and pleading for his life until the last moment. Lewis Williams, 45, was put to death by injection for fatally shooting a 76-year-old woman during a robbery at her Cleveland home in 1983. Four guards were needed to lift the 117-pound Williams from his knees and pry his hand off the edge of a table before carrying him into the death chamber. As he was strapped to the execution table he cried, "I'm not guilty. God, help me." At least nine guards restrained him as they prepared his arms and inserted needles. One guard standing at his head alternately restrained him and patted his right shoulder to comfort him. Williams repeatedly shook his head and tried to lift himself off the preparation bed. He yelled several times, then rested his head and spoke, appearing to whisper or chant quietly.

Williams kept pleading even as the warden pulled the microphone away after his final official statement: "God, please help me. God, please hear my cry." He was pronounced dead at 10:15 am. His mother, Bonnie Williams, 66, sobbed in an adjacent room separated by a window. "It was an awful thing to watch," assistant state public defender Stephen Ferrell said. "The struggle caught us by surprise. He didn't seem to be like that this morning." "I would say it was disturbing. I would say it was traumatic," prisons systems director Reginald Wilkinson said. "It was probably as traumatic as anything our staff has gone through." His execution, originally set for June, was delayed while a judge considered his claim that he was mentally retarded and therefore ineligible for the death penalty. The judge rejected the claim after an expert hired by Williams' attorneys found that he was not mentally retarded.

Good for you, pseudo-retard. . .why should you make such a disgusting procedure appear *routine?* Look at the state's representative, Reginald Wilkinson, he has the nerve to be traumatized by the pseudo-retard's actions. They want the condemned to be polite about their own execution. "Slide down the gurney just a bit, please. . .Turn your head this way, please. . .Could you make a fist so we can find a vein?. . .Good. . .Now die quietly. . .Thank you."

It would be beneficial for Wilkinson and the *corrections officers* who carried out this killing to have nightmares for the rest of their days. . .let them wake up in a cold sweat after dreaming of being on their knees begging for their lives before a retarded Freddy Krueger. Maybe then they will have a greater appreciation for the virtue of mercy.

"Well, these killers didn't show any mercy to their victims, why should we?" is the standard reply. The state, if it wants to serve as the model for its citizens to emulate and if it wants its laws to be the citizens' schoolmaster, must make as great a distinction as possible between itself and its grossest members. . .this is the usual response. Of course, it's nonsense. The mere fact laws exist are proof of the hopelessness of legislating good behavior.

Mercy is a theological matter of self-interest. . .but most people think of themselves as *good*. . .they arrive at this conclusion through the process of relative righteousness. . .they look around for a pedophile or a serial killer or a Hitler, and then compare themselves to the beast. . .presto!. . . "I'm good!". . .hence they think they will never need mercy. . .they believe they are justified by their own Potemkin *goodness*. . .and they feel no qualms about denying mercy to others who they judge as *evil.*

Surely they will be shocked when they find themselves dead in their sins, being judged by the Almighty. . .then they will ask for mercy, just the like pseudo-retard in the story above. . .too late. . .in fact, they will claim a form of mental retardation themselves. . .they will tell the Almighty, "I didn't know I was a sinner." The Lord will likewise reject their claim of mental retardation.

Apparently most of the condemned cooperate with the state. . .they calmly accept their execution. Perhaps they don't want to create a spectacle because they believe they would appear weak, and it would offend their image of themselves. . .vanity, vanity, all is vanity. . .even in death. . .maybe the condemned think the state wants them to grovel and beg, and that by appearing cool and calm, they think they can gain a final victory over the state. . . "go ahead and kill me, I don't care." So they go like sheep to the slaughter, stupidly not realizing that by bending over for the state, they assist in making the barbaric practice appear to be nothing more than a routine *medical procedure.*

What if all the condemned went down swinging? I would guess most of them could put up a much better fight than the 117 pound weakling pseudo-retard in Ohio. Imagine if the weekly executions in Texas turned into tough man contests. . .with psychotic murderers and rapists biting, kicking, screaming, scratching, gouging, spitting on and clawing their last mile *escorts*. . .if they had to be pepper-sprayed or zapped with a stun gun just to get them on the gurney. . .make the thing a frenzy of blood and broken bones and chewed-off ears and noses. . .the system surely would have to be *reformed.*

Of course, the state would likely adopt a more ruthless procedure. . .such as the one that used to be applied in Russia. . .where the condemned were never told of their execution date. . .they sweated it out in uncertainty, until one early morning when a prison official would simply tell the condemned he had not been reprieved, and then an officer would fire a single shot to the back of his head.

One could ask, if the condemned are going to end up dead, anyway, what does it matter the form of execution? But why allow the state its pretense of a clean, orderly *medical procedure?* Make the state shed its surgical mask. . .make the state pull the trigger and have to clean the mess off the wall. . .let the state stand without guile before its people.

Few There Be That Find It. . .