Wisdom From a Life of Crime       April 23, 2013

            I met Deemon O’Flaherty when we were undergraduates, before the world of crime took him to become a defense attorney.  We often argue about the death penalty.  He still likes to affect a carefree Irish brogue and owns a devilish mischief as if he invented it himself.  “Boy-o,” he said, “the Saints have had a fine laugh on us now, haven’t they?”  I raised an eyebrow.  “Well,” he continued, “we’ve come a distance since you got your B.A. and I got my B.S. and went on my criminal way to Law School.  Now, I’M the one doing Benevolent Acts in the courts, and YOU’RE full of B.S.!”

            “If you mean Better Sense, you are as usual, one with those very Saints,” I slammed.  “Apart from your parochial interest in keeping your clients alive, you know the death penalty makes sense.”

            “Ksshhh!  The Blarney Stone makes sense.  The death penalty is just a way thou shalt kill the poor unfortunate slobs who can’t afford me.  When’s the last time a wealthy defendant was executed?  What per cent of the executable criminals are wealthy?”

            “Can I help it if prosperous people around here respect deterrents,” I retorted?

            “I rest my case, laddie.  NO. I’ll add one more nail to the coffin lid of the whole sorry mess.  Life in prison, without the chance of parole, inflicts infinitely more retribution upon the real nasties of this earth.  Especially if there’s any solitary confinement involved.”