Hang out around gun stores for any length of time, and you will meet some people with fairly vivid imaginations. Strange rangers. Mall ninjas. Guys who dress in paramilitary boots, shirts with flaming skulls and paratrooper wings, and who are always ominously hinting that "the organization" could call them at any time to send them on a "mission", apparently without even waiting for them to jog off the gut or grow enough biceps to do a pull-up.
They're generally harmless (and generally given a wide berth, as though an active fantasy life and lack of exercise might be contagious) but apparently there is a malevolent variety of the species:
The indictment said Jacques told J1 about a child-sex club called Breckenridge -- a nonexistent group that Jacques allegedly made up to coerce her into sex for years and to get her to help with Brooke's abduction.
Beginning in 2003, Jacques "intimidated, deceived and persuaded a nine-year-old girl (J1) into believing that a powerful organization named 'Breckenridge' would harm or kill her and her family if she did not engage in sex acts with" him, U.S. Attorney Thomas Anderson said in news release.
Between 2003 and 2008, Jacques caused J1 to engage in sex acts that he videotaped and shipped in interstate commerce, the indictment said.
It said he used fake e-mail, text and other messages to convince J1 that she was hearing from Breckenridge operatives and "that on occasion, Breckenridge 'terminated' girls. J1 was informed that, while she would not be required to participate in such a termination, she might be required to assist in related planning."
I know we don't do things this way in this country, but if we could make an exception, I think it would be poetic justice if we could arrange for some guys from "Breckenridge" in overcoats and dark glasses and humorless expressions to carry out the capital punishment sentence. With lead pipes, please.
17 comments:
Lead pipe is good. I have nothing against lead pipe. It is a little traditional, though. And while some people might prefer it just for that reason, I would like to suggest an alternative.
I am talking, of course, about PVC pipe. Too "New Age" for some people, yes, but consider this: a beating with PVC pipe would take much longer than a beating with lead pipe.
Much, much longer.
And isn't that what it's all about: preserving the "moment"?
Plus, it is kinder to the environment.
I'd be up for toothpicks, actually.
Hell, I'd donate blood so they could keep his worthless carcass alive longer for more beatings.
Some people need help. Some need incarceration. For everything else, there's .45 ACP.
I'll file the papers to create a corporate entity named "Breakenridge" and ya'll can be my first employees.
I also have a supply of clawhammers, lookit that.
I like the pipe idea, especially if they start at the toes and work their way upwards.
Lead pipe.
Considering the circumstances, I'm thinking one could get pretty creative with how the retribution (and let's not hide behind anything here, as that's exactly what this is) with said pipe is to be executed.
Just saying.
I was thinking of a whiffle bat, but Turk Turon's PVC pipe is probably a better idea.
Some people just need to be fed their own balls before death.
I need to go wash my brain.
I say convinct him, put him in general population, and tell the other inmates the guy who comes up with the most creative and long-lasting method of extra-hurty talion gets special priveleges. The other guys who help get tee-shirts.
Of course, cruel and inhuman punishment, by definition, is appropriate for this waste of protoplasm.
Anything to do with lots of high-voltage, low-amperage current, small knives, hammers, and rats would do the trick.
Please.
Just shoot him, or hang him.
Don't stoop to his level.
Look at that shitbag in that CNN photograph. That's the very picture of doom-cognizance. He knows.
It's very difficult for me to relinquish my initial impulse: 28-oz. Estwing straight-claw battle-hammers.
Waffle his face with the waffle-face, and tear him him up with the other end.
{sigh} I feel sick for getting as near him as I have with this comment.
You could beat on him with a claw hammer for hours, and even whistle while you did it, and still have fathoms left to go before reaching his level.
I can't help it: look at him. He knows, and I hope the sheer terror of it shreds his psyche second-by-second until the end.
That's a goddamned terrible thing to wish on anyone. The very idea of justice demands that I hold the ethical conclusion. I have to say, though, that my contempt springs essentially from the concept of waste. If I could get at one truth in a case like this, my question would be: "How in the world did you let yourself sink to this?"
And I might even listen to his answer, just before I put his fuckin' lights out.
This shit's always hard, man.
You know, it's actually quite difficult to find a real lead pipe these days. As a alternative, how about a sturdy tree limb, a length of rope and a Louisville Slugger? Hoist our man up to the batter's most comfortable height and one free swing of the bat to any passerby with a yen for social justice ought to suffice.
Eventually.
Several marshalls to ensure orderliness in the resulting que might prove necessary too.
"it's actually quite difficult to find a real lead pipe these days."
I'd beg to differ.
The idea crossed my mind several years ago when I'd just finished pulling off the last bit of trace (we call it bumwad in the trade) paper from a standard 12" wide roll. What was left is a cardboard tube with an ID of right at 1", and it's of a fairly heavy construction.
So, I took it home, made a plug for both ends, epoxied one end on, filled with 7 1/2 shot, epoxied the other end, covered with several layers of athletic tape, and Viola!, a very handy sap. It's extremely easy to swing this thing from the shoulder, developing Mike Tyson power in the process. I'm quite certain you could use it to cripple said asshole if desired, without breaking much of a sweat.
I'm donating to a good cause if someone could promise to put it to the miscreant's head in the exact manner necessary for inflicting the drool-on-himself-for-the-rest-of-his-miserable-existence type hit.
It was a weird moment from a creative mind.
I'll donate muffins and 223.
The late James Arness had a great line in a western once. Always stuck in the back of my mind.
"I'm going to turn you over to the Apaches. And I'm gonna pay them in gold for every day they keep you alive over a slow fire."
Tok
Chain him to a chair, and allow his relatives to enter the room, and stay there as long as they feel they need to to get the job done.
I'd just shoot his ass. but it isn't my call to make, in my opinion.
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