Morning Thoughts: Crime

C.W. and I were talking …

He reminded me that the governor of my state had decided to execute eight prisoners within a few days of one another. He had scant reason to remind me, but I expect he knew that already.

This was true, the plans for executions, but what was his point?

He was on a fact-finding mission for the Fallonian Elders and wanted a typical Earthling's take on this practice of executing criminals.

There really is no such thing as a typical Earthling's response, at least not an American Earthling's. but, he pressured me into offering mine. So, here goes.

I’m like an author I read once, Paul Theroux I think it was, who considered capital punishment at length and came to mixed conclusions. It's hard to make a "bright-line" statement.

I feel there are monsters who have no right to live in civilized society. But having watched multiple episodes of “Investigation Discovery” on TV, I know that equal punishment under the law is a major failing of our judicial system.

For example, I’ve seen two almost identical episodes. In the first, a man stalked his ex-wife, shot her, chased her into a neighbor’s home, found her, and executed her. In the second, a man stalked his ex-wife, broke into her home and executed her with her baby in bed beside her. The first man was executed by the state for his crime. The second was placed into some rehabilitation program and later, owing no doubt to some undisclosed political connection, was pardoned by Mississippi governor Haley Barbour, allowing the man to walk the streets today.

It’s not always easy to spot the monsters.

There are, in my opinion, heinous crimes that not only go unpunished but enjoy the praise and approval of many Americans. Consider the awesome abomination of infecting a young child’s mind with the primal fear of eternal damnation and unbearable torture in a fiery pit.

How about a politician, who, for no defensible reason, orders bombs to rain down on a peaceful city one morning? How about the scene from the Michael Moore documentary of a father running through those bombs carrying his son who had obviously soiled his pants from shear terror?

How about the politician who hides behind his or her Bible but orders the destruction of a planet that his or her god has provided for the comfort and solace of all creatures? People who stage fights between innocent animals, or a person who shoots them for pleasure and cuts off their tails for souvenirs? People who cheat the elderly out of their life savings? People who turn their head aside and approve dangerous products or conditions to enhance profits? People who preach morality for the poor from the comfort of a warm room and a full belly? And so it goes on and on, day after day.

I’ll support capital punishment on the day I feel I can fully identify the monsters.

What is the appropriate punishment
for damaging this young mind? - C.W.

Symbols

Dear Friends and Followers:

Feel free to offer your opinions, but I have decided to use a  thing that represents or stands for something else, (Editor's note: He means "symbol") to explain the approach of your species toward solving problems.

Believe it or not, it is a device that you call "the leaf blower."

I can't tell that it solves any problem at all in a large sense. But it seems to:

Make a lot of racket as though it is really accomplishing something,
Move a problem from one person's area of concern to another,
Make you feel better,
Remove the inconvenience of a cognitive ability (hearing), and
Leave the mess for others to clean up in the future.

Now, isn't this the approach you take to solving most problems, from drug addiction to crime to poverty to the homeless, and things in general? What gives? Just saying, as you say.

I asked Big Dope and he just looked at me and said "Huh?"

Best I can tell. Your attitude is: A problem
 out of sight is a problem solved. - C.W,

Please click an ad. I'm buying Big Dope a new yard broom.
Also see www.wattensawpress.com

Shopping

Dear Friends and Followers

Big Dope is out “fat walking” so I take this opportunity to communicate.

As a public service, I am preparing a draft re-write of the Arkansas Criminal Code. I could use suggestions for §(a)(B).201-Shopping. An example: for the crime of blocking the aisle in a supermarket while talking on a cell phone, should the punishment be a few years of hard time or a long sentence of house arrest? Another: for parking with one set of tires on the line of the parking stall, would 500 hours of community service be sufficient? I’m thinking a six-month sentence for the crime of waiting until the cashier announces your total before beginning to rummage in a purse looking for a checkbook or a wallet for a credit card. Fair? Men shopping without a Certificate of Graduation from Husband School would be permanently barred from the venue, freeing up a lot of everyone’s time. Sound appropriate?

Finally: I am proposing that the following be posted at conspicuous locations in all stores.

 

RULES FOR SHOPPER BEHAVIOR

1. IF YOUR POSTERIOR IS WIDER THAN YOUR SHOPPING CART, PLEASE WALK SIDEWAYS THROUGH THE AISLES.

2. PLEASE KEEP ALL WEAPONS CONCEALED UNLESS ACUALLY OBSERVING A SHOPLIFTING IN PROGRESS..

3. PLEASE REFRAIN FROM DISCUSSING THE FOLLOWING ON CELL PHONES AS YOU SHOP:

- VISITS TO PHYSICIANS

- PREGNANCIES

- ARRESTS OF CHILDREN

- SORRY HUSBANDS

- BOWEL MOVEMENTS

- SEXUAL ACTIVITY IN GENERAL; FREQUENCY THEREOF IN PARTICULAR

4.  THIS STORE IS NOT OBLIGATED TO STOCK ANY ITEM OR BRAND THAT YOU MAY HAVE PURCHASED PREVIOUSLY SO DON’T ASK.  (WALMART OUTLETS ONLY)

5.   A MAXIMUM OF FIVE CHILDREN MAY RIDE IN A SHOPPING CART AT ONE TIME.

6.  SHOPPERS TASTE-TESTING FRUIT SHOULD NOT RETURN PEELS, CORES, SEEDS, OR OTHER REMNANTS  INTO THE DISPLAY BINS.

7.  PLEASE TAKE WRAPPERS FROM CANDY CONSUMED BY YOUR CHILDREN WHILE SHOPPING TO THE CASHIER TO BE ACCOUNTED FOR AT  CHECKOUT.

8.  PLEASE COVER ALL TATTOOS EXPRESSING DEATH THREATS TOWARD THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES WHILE SHOPPING AT THIS STORE.

9.  PLEASE REFRAIN FROM CONVERSING WITH OTHER SHOPPERS WHILE CHECKING OUT.

10. PRACTICAL JOKES SUCH AS PLACEMENT OF CONDOMS, LAXATIVES, OR FEMALE UNDERGARMENTS IN ANOTHER’S CART ARE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN.

As always, I wish you a feeling of happiness day. (Editor’s note: He, of course, means “pleasant”).

Remember: it is vital that you get a
clear line of fire when making
a "Citizen's Kill." - C.W.

Your Friend.

C.W.

Also: Check out www.wattensawpress.com

 

Capitalism

Dear Friends and Followers:

Big Dope made me sit through a political speech recently in which a candidate hinted that, if elected, he would work to eliminate any regulation of the environment. Today I ran across this photo of the public drinking water in Charleston, West Virginia—a result of what you call “unfettered capitalism,” in which those of the libertarian faith so strongly believe.

 

I was confused.

So, I sought out the advice of some of your great thinkers (and some not so great, perhaps). Anyway, a sampling:

“I certainly have some very strong libertarian leanings, yes.” – Clarence Thomas

“If men were angels, no government would be necessary.” – James Madison

“To waste, to destroy our natural resources, to skin and exhaust the land instead of using it so as to increase its usefulness, will result in undermining in the days of our children the very prosperity which we ought by right to hand down to them amplified and developed.” ―Theodore Roosevelt

"… if the bee disappeared off the surface of the globe, then man would have only four years of life left. No more bees, no more pollination, no more plants, no more animals, no more man." – Albert Einstein

“Capitalism actually encourages morality because capitalism can't function well if people can't trust each other and people aren't honest, if a deal isn't a deal.” - Rick Santorum

“This American system of ours, call it Americanism, call it capitalism, call it what you will, gives each and every one of us a great opportunity if we only seize it with both hands and make the most of it.” – Al Capone

I am more confused than ever. Can someone help?

Your friend,

C.W.

Don't forget to check out Big Dope's book, The Charmed Time.

Incarceration

Dear Friends and Followers:

Today I find myself confused over your criminal justice system again. On Falloonia, in those rare instances in which we must incarcerate non-conforming units, it is usually for some awful lapse that threatens stability of the species such goobukasezet. (Editor’s  note: a Falloonian phrase not quite translatable but being a combination of a failure to use the logic module and a waste of public expenditures).

Anyway, I am sorely confused about your incarceration of people for what I call G and G, that is to say: giggling and gorging.

Yes, I am talking about the affinity of some of your species to smoke a plant called cannabis sativa, pot, grass, cần sa, etc.

Its greatest effect seems to be that it causes continuous giggling and a wild propensity to eat any food in sight.

Now I ask you, isn't this the kind of person
who might benefit from a few puffs? - C.W.

The Falloonian Elders have directed me to ask: wouldn’t it be a more rational approach simply to provide the plant free to dour, underweight units?

Your Pal,

C.W.

Affluenza

Friends and Followers:

Please someone help me. I am trying to explain a troubling news story (Click here)  to the Falloonian Elders. Can someone please tell me what “affluenza” is? Are the rich above the law in your society because of it? Would there be a contrasting disease called “povertilosis” that would excuse poor people from criminal activity? Please, my Cannacopawitit glands are smoking.

Sometimes I have to defend your species from
charges of pervasive insanity and my words
are not equal to the task. - C.W.

(Editor’s note: He refers to a condition in which a Falloonian’s mental processing facilities become overloaded and malfunction. Remember how Captain Kirk would defeat a logical mind by introducing illogic?)
If you have any explanation whatsoever, please comment below.
Oh, and please click on an ad. It makes Big Dope (who doesn't suffer from "affuenza" in the least) a little money.
The Alien C.W.

159. Reflections

I’ve always liked grandmothers, so when I found that C.W. had assumed the shape of a SLOL and was sitting in my living room knitting, I couldn’t help smiling.

“Why the sweet little old lady shape?”

“Sit down child,” she said.

I did as she told me. Her hands flashed as the knitting needs clicked against one another. She didn’t say anything.

“Nice morning,” I said. “See we had some rain last night.

“All things come in their own time,” she said.

“Uh,” I said. “Want to give me a hint of what you’re up to.”

“Just reflecting,” she said. “You know what today is, don’t you?”

“Saturday?”

“It’s been 44years since we first took notice of you. The day you took your ‘giant step for mankind.’”

“The first moon landing?”

“We thought you were all so cute.”

“I suppose we were. It was a great day.”

“Well what the bloody hell happened?”

I almost spilled my coffee.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said. “I forgot where I was for a moment.”

As the modern mystery books say, I sat in stunned silence.

“It’s just that you have been such a burden to us all since that day.”

“Since that day?”

“We thought at the time that you had the capabilities to get past some of your shortcomings.”

“Shortcomings?”

“Pigmentation preoccupation and such.” Her fingers flashed with silent fury.

“I’m not sure I follow you.”

“You have such a capacity for love, on occasion,” she said. “Why when that little girl out in Colorado was murdered that time, the whole country went into mourning.”

“I seem to remember.”

She studied her knitting for a few seconds, then looked up at me. She spoke softly. “Then the whole country seems to stick its head up its ass and wonder why the lights went out.”

“Something troubling you?”

“Pigmentation preoccupation, like I said.”

“As in?”

“Why doesn’t it bother some people when a young man with black skin gets murdered for walking down the street not bothering a soul?”

“I don’t know.”

She stopped knitting. “Your species calls it, I believe, schizophrenia.”

“And what do you call it?”

“Just being assholes.”

“C.W.,” I said. “I think you may be having one of your cases of, what is it you call it, role warp?”

“Oh child,” she said and offered me a smile that would have melted hardened steel. “I’m just picking up bad habits from your species. You can be so sweet at times.”

“And?”

“And then you can be totally fu…”

“Shhh,” I interrupted her. “My wife may walk in at any time.”

“ … funny beyond belief at others. What’s wrong with you?”

In Grandma's day, a good dose of
Senna Leaf Tea in the spring
cleaned all that meanness
out of you kids. - C.W.Add caption

I sighed in relief. “Oh nothing.”

She smiled again and resumed her knitting. “Oh child, she said. Poor sweet child. You can make me so proud at times.”

“Yes?” She was beginning to make me feel warm inside.

“Then sometimes you make my ass crave a dip of snuff.”

158. Luck

I found C.W. sitting at the kitchen table this morning. Actually, there was a young, blond-haired boy of about ten there in the most ridiculous outfit one could imagine—a long purple robe lined with Sable fur and five pounds or so of gold necklace around his neck. A ridiculous crown sat askew on his hand, as if ready to hop off at any second. I could only stare in disbelief.

“They found that man 'not guilty' who killed that young boy,” he said.

“I know. I heard.”

“Why? How?”

“ I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

“You mean when he shot him?”

“No, I meant at the trial. Nobody was there when he shot him.”

“Too bad. They might have stopped him.”

“Maybe. But that is what the jury faced. It’s seems hard to get past the ‘reasonable doubt’ standard if when there were no witnesses.”

“But for the fact …”

I interrupted. “There is no ‘but for the fact’ rule in that state.”

“So someone aggravates you, you just shoot them.”

“Only if you aggravate them enough that they take a swing at you.”

He thought for a moment. “Perhaps it is best we not move there, particularly if Mrs. Big Dope were to come with us.”

“Just who the hell are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“Don’t you read the news?”

“Not much lately.”

“I will be King of England someday.”

“Oh please.”

He cocked his head to one side. As he did, the crown began to slip. He grabbed it with one hand and straightened it. “Explain monarchies to me.”

“It is a form of government whereby people are ruled, or nominally ruled, by a monarch.” I grinned. Tautologies make his circuits smoke.

“Say, a king such as I?”

“I think Great Britain enjoys a limited monarchy.”

“Meaning that its ruler doesn’t actually rule?”

“Something like that.”

“Doesn’t do anything?”

“Not unless they want to.”

“They get paid for this?”

“Oh, you’d better believe.”

“And I will get to do it?”

I played along. “As long as you don’t do something really stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, say divorce one of the most beautiful women in the world in order to marry one of the homeliest.”

He pondered this. “Are we talking really beautiful?”

“Really, really. The kind dreams are made of.”

He straightened his back and assumed a royal bearing. “One will try to meet one’s duty as it is presented.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“So how is this monarch chosen, by tests of strength, ability, or cunning?”

“No, by inheritance.”

“Inheritance?” I could almost hear those Falloonian brain-gears humming. “You mean by luck?”

“Precisely.”

“So if my sperm-egg coupling had occurred, say, in rural Alabama, I might not enjoy the privileges for which I am destined?”

“Quite likely.”

“I might even be regarded simply as one of your history’s pedis memoranda?”

“A footnote, yes.”

“Like the lad in Florida?”

“Much like that.”

“Sad,” he said.

“Yes,” I said. “A real tragedy.”

He snapped his head toward me. “What tragedy?”

“The killing in Florida.”

Would someone please be so kind as to tell
Mrs. Big Dope that she must obey me
as everyone else does? - C.W.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, straightening his crown. “I was referring to the great burdens that will be placed on me to behave appropriately.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Hardly,” he said, and a cold tone took over his voice as his face froze into a stony and frightening stare. I waited.

“After all, one can’t be mentally distracted over the death of any young black boy who doesn’t show the proper respect.”

100. Gospels

The day began somewhere between bemusement and annoyance. I needed to talk to C.W. and when needed, he is often nowhere to be found. He does it to aggravate me.

Problem was, quotes were appearing on an on-line social network under my “page” quoting a mysterious document called “The Book of Ludicrous.” I can’t create a password on my computer that C.W. can’t hack, so I knew it was one of his capers.

I finally found him in a corner of the attic at the farmhouse in the guise of a renaissance scholar or something like that. He had fashioned a desk from an old dresser and illuminated his writing space with a small candle. It was stifling hot there, and sweat covered me but, as he looked up from his writing, he paid no notice.

“My son,” he said.

“We need to talk.”

“Of course,” he said. A boney finger motioned for me to wait. He finished the sentence, smiled, and looked back at me.

“What troubles you, child?”

“Have you been posting on my computer again?”

“Computer, what is this … computer?” he asked, a roguish twinkle in his eye.

I wiped the sweat away. “Cut the crap,” I said. “People are asking me about it,” I paused. “What the hell is ‘The Book of Ludicrous’?”

“Ah,” he said. “Your are familiar with my work: ‘The Gospel of Humankind’s Struggle as Set Forth by St. Ludicrous of Salvatia.’”

“What?”

“We are urged,” he said. “Urged by the Falloonian Elders to leave something of value with your species when we depart.” He pointed at his manuscript. “This shall be my gift.”

I glanced over at it.

“It is much better than pictographs cut into wheat fields, right?”

“So you are leaving?” I tried to change the topic.

“Not anytime soon,” he said. “It will be a long manuscript.”

”But why a gospel couched in satirical nonsense?”

He looked at me as if I had just asked how demons could inhabit pigs.

“Can you think of a more fitting paradigm for your species than a book of the ludicrous?”

I began to ponder this.

“I mean, think about your species’ habit of starting unfunded wars.”

That stopped me.

“Or,” he continued. “Pantyhose. Neckties. Designer pets. Or automobiles designed to travel a hundred miles an hour faster than any posted speed limit.”

“What …?” I began.

“I haven’t even approached the more fantastic tendencies,” he said. “Such as the belief that criminal proclivities may be assuaged by locking the miscreant in tight quarters for long periods with more advanced criminals.”

“Well, uh …,” I stammered.

“Who thought that one up?”

Before I could answer, he reached into a drawer and retrieved what looked suspiciously like a joint. He laid it on his desk and then pulled a wicked looking pistol from the same drawer.

“Observe,” he said. “Many of your species would have no problem with my blasting you away with this if you annoyed me.” He waived the pistol in my direction. "And sometimes you do."

“Put that down,” I said.

I still maintain that a
Falloonian female would find
pantyhose baffling at best. - C.W.

He did. Then he picked up the joint, observed it, and said, “But those same brethren would have me join the incarcerated for simply smoking this and grinning like an idiot.

I said nothing. He began to write, speaking as he did so.

“He who shall wallow with the unholy shall feed with the iniquitous.”

“Don’t suggest to my wife that pantyhose are ludicrous,” I said. Then I wiped the sweat away once more and left him to his work.