Disgusting

I have been pretty disgusted with a news story that came out recently here in Chicago. "Allegedly," a woman killed her 5-year-old daughter by punching her in the face and beating her head against a wall, and then promptly gave birth to a baby boy, her eighth child.

Investigators have said that the girl was routinely tortured by the mother; she had cigarette burns on her skin, ligature marks on her ankles from being tied in a closet when the mother felt like leaving the home, burn marks on her back from scalding water and/or oil, black eyes from being punched in the face--a regular occurence, apparently--a broken nose, and marks that investigators believe were made when the girl was beaten with a cord upon her abdomen and legs.

To make matters worse, the other six children were encouraged to beat the girl--something a Cook County public guardian calls "a classic example of an abuse phenomenon where only one child is targeted by parents, but the others pay a terrible price....All of these kids, to an extent, they were abused, essentially raised in a climate of violence, taught violence....From my perspective, all of these kids are in the same boat." One of the girl's siblings explained: "Everyone hit Melanie because she touched our things."

I said it was disgusting, didn't I? It gets worse. The six surviving children were ordered to clean up the house before police arrived. When the police arrived and surveyed the scene, the mother pointed to one of her other daughters and announced, "She did it."

To be quite honest, I have been more disturbed by this story than I have been disturbed by anything I can remember for some time. Part of it could be explained by the fact that I'm about to become a parent myself. Lately, it has been hard for me to even see fictionalized accounts of children in peril.

The whole sorry scene is disgusting enough due to the gory details, but what's also disgusting is the fact that this waste of flesh upon which the word "mother" is wasted is only twenty-nine years old. Yet she had so many children that she popped an eighth out near about the same time she was murdering one of her remaining seven. Here I am about to turn 31, and I'm just getting around to welcoming my first offspring into the world. We want to have more, but it's a safe bet it will be a good two or three years before we start trying for offspring #2. You hear about so many people in the world who want so desperately to be parents but cannot for whatever reason, who have so much love to give to a child, and then there's this disgusting waste of life to make the whole thing even more tragic.

I believe myself to be pretty liberal politically, to the point that I identify with politically liberal stances that I would not choose for myself--for instance, I am pro-choice, but I think that abortion is horrible. I am also against the death penalty, but stories like this make it hard for me to stay true to that belief.

I think that the death penalty is a wasteful, ineffective, morally indefensible anachronism. One of my rationalizations is that it does not seem to be an effective deterrent, nor an appropriate penalty for the often horrendous crimes for which it is enforced. I believe that spending the remainder of one's natural life locked in prison, forced to while away day after day in institutionalized repetition, while people living often just yards away are able to live peaceful, law-abiding lives is far worse a punishment than being humanely put to sleep.

Having this position may make me out to be some sort of forward-thinking, humane person. I think it's probably more to do with my thinking the death penalty, if it is to be an effective punishment, should be less humane. If trading death for death is to be eye-for-an-eye and tooth-for-a-tooth, let it truly be eye-for-an-eye and tooth-for-a-tooth.

It probably makes me a horrible person for suggesting such a thing, but I think that the above serves as a perfect case for such biblical punishment.

After hearing about all of the terrible things this "mother" did to her own child, does it not seem appropriate to wish the exact same damage visited upon her own worthless person? Who would cry for humanity at such a scenario, save for this wicked person's own mother, who in doing so would demonstrate far more motherly humanity than this other "mother" visited upon her child during her bitter, brief lifetime?

Proposing the invention of this kind of institutionalized retribution, it almost goes without saying, would institutionalize brutality on scale dwarfing the brutality currently at work in our own system of capital punishment. But it goes a long way toward suggesting an appropriate punishment for this worthless person, at least in my mind. So consider this: collect a detailed account of the torture and abuse suffered by that poor, defenseless child, and there you would have a schedule of horror ready to inflict upon this vile waste of carbon for the last five years of her worthless life.

Brutal? Inhumane? I think you're right. But again, consider what she'll be facing if she does in fact get the death penalty, and tell me you don't think my proposal fits the crime far better.

In lieu of that Pol Pot-esque scenario ever seeing daylight in this country, the only solace left someone as disgusted by this story as I am is the old folk tale of the hatred other prison inmates feel for those prisoners who are convicted and jailed for abusing children. According to news accounts, this might already be taking place. "[H]er lawyer suggested [the "mother"] is in danger in jail....[She] has been shouted at and given threatening looks by inmates in the Maywood lockup where she has been held since her arrest." One wonders if the prisoners read newspapers or watch the evening news, or even read blogs.

The death penalty, I argue, can never be morally justified, just as a moral society would never endorse the vengeful punishment that I wish would be visited upon this deserving piece of scum. Therefore, a moral society should abolish the death penalty. Let the evil scum of the Earth rot in prison, a place with its own sense of morality and punishment unknown to those who never cross its gates.

Today, I learned a word of Spanish

Dear hospital complaint person,

On Wednesday evening my wife and I were attending a Breastfeeding class at Illinois Masonic. Our letter directed us to check in at the hospital's main information desk before going to the classroom. This was at about 6:30 - 6:45 pm. The two young men directed us towards the education center, and as we began to walk away, I heard one of them utter the word "cabron," in what I felt was our general direction. Neither of us are Spanish-speakers, so when we went home, we Googled the word, and discovered it had a number of unsavory connotations. This made us upset. I know that if I were to make a similar kind of utterance at my own job in the direction of any of my patrons, I would likely face some sort of discipline in the near future. We are very disappointed that this occurred, and hope that we do not face similar situations as we visit Illinois Masonic in the months leading up to the delivery of our first child.

Sincerely, Bedheaded

The writing and sending of the above is a big deal to me, because whenever something like this happens to me, I spend a lot of time ranting and raving about it. This is really the first time I've decided to direct that anger into a complaint letter. My fear is that from this point forward, I'll be one of those people that writes letters whenever anything happens to them. Maybe the next step in that progression is to become one of those people who calls their lawyer whenever something happens to them.

To prove I'm not that much of a "cabron," here are some choice tracks from Mr. Secret Agent Man, Johnny Rivers, and a bonus cut from my favorite Rolling Stones record (yes, way more than Exile on Main Street, which would come in second for me...what can I say, I'm a sucker for big pop hooks, especially big pop hooks specifically requested by the Lord of the Flies). You know, for having as successful a pop music career as Johnny Rivers had, he sure had a warbly, almost-tuneless voice.

Johnny Rivers - "Whiter Shade of Pale"

Johnny Rivers - "Baby I Need Your Lovin'"

Johnny Rivers - "Summer Rain"
From The Johnny Rivers Anthology: 1964-1977 [Rhino, 1991]

The Rolling Stones - "She's a Rainbow"
From Their Satanic Magesties Request [ABKCO, 1967]

The only thing we have to fear is....AAAAHHHH! FEAR!!!!

Remember 9/11? Remember how frequently after 9/11 the following proposition would be made: "if we allow X to happen, then the terrorists have won"? Would it be overstating things to say "if we allow a hare-brained marketing campaign for a stoner-friendly cartoon show to bring a major American city to its knees, then the terrorists have won?" I didn't think so, so here goes: the terrorists have won. Which is amazing, because I sincerely doubt the terrorists would be that into Aqua Teen Hunger Force, though their interest in Danish cartoons has been noted by several major media outlets.

Though if you've seen those Mooninites in action, maybe one ought to be afraid...I mean, their vertical leap is beyond all measurement. We should be relieved that it was Ignigknot and not Err....



You know, I don't want to seem like I'm belittling what is obviously genuine panic and fear being felt by Bostonians, but when you hear stuff like the following being said by apparently reasonable people, you have to marvel at the hysteria this little episode has caused:

"Just a little over a mile away from the placement of the first device, a group of terrorists boarded airplanes and launched an attack on New York City," [Boston] police Commissioner Edward Davis said in an interview with The Associated Press.

"The city clearly did not overreact. Had we taken any other steps, we would have been endangering the public," he said. (Link)

Well, not to make anybody panic any more than the already are, but the Chicago Tribune just reported that actual, honest-to-goodness pipe bombs, or as they call them in Iraq, "improvised explosive devices", were sent to offices in Chicago and Kansas City the last few days:

Though [Kansas City Postal Inspector Don] Obritsch described Wednesday's bomb as an "actual I.E.D., improvised explosive device,'' he said it appeared more designed to frighten than kill.

"This was the real deal, but it was not primed to go off,'' Obritsch said. ``To some extent, it was a device meant to scare people.'' (Link)

Are the people of America scared? I should be scared...one of those bombs was sent to a building not one block north of the one I work in. But I don't know, I'm not home to see if MSNBC or any other major media outlet is currently providing blanket coverage of this apparently genuine attempt to strike fear in the hearts of everyday Americans. However, I wouldn't be at all surprised if any of those media outlets are currently devoting precious airtime dissecting the aftermath of the brazen Mooninite terror campaign.

Takin' the El to Hell

When I last wrote about being glad to leave the city, I don't think I adequately conveyed my distaste for the El. There are so many bad things to say about the el, I don't think that one post would be enough to cover them all. But I'll do my best.

I ride the Brown line during both "peak periods" of the day. In the morning I have a good chance of getting a seat, because I live further north on the line. When I first started riding on the El, I was shy about taking seats. It felt weird sitting so close to strangers, especially if the the car was relatively empty. I've gotten over that. Standing on the El seems kind of romantic if you've seen people do it in movies, but having to stand around ass-to-ass with the general public while the train sits idle on the track for fifteen minutes without explanation is about as romantic as visiting a slaughterhouse in July.

I head straight for a seat when I see one; I prefer the single seats, if there are any, and if not, I try to get an outside seat in the middle of the car. If I have to stand, I go right to the middle-most part of the car. When I used to think standing was cool, I would park myself right near the doors. This seems to make sense at first, because there appears to be the most standing room near the doors. However, whatever space there is near the doors quickly disappears once more people get on, and the space near the doors starts to look like a can of human sardines. If you stand in the middle of the car, you'll still be standing close to people, but you won't be embracing them. I've often been in El cars where the people standing in the middle have a reasonable amount of elbow room--enough to read a paper or book while standing--while the people standing near the doors are entangled in a cheek-to-jowl death-embrace. One time back in my door-standing days I had to ride between stops with some dude literally embracing me: I had my back to the plexiglass divider, and he was stuck without a pole to grasp, so he resorted to grabbing the top of the plexiglass with both hands. So I spent the time with dude's arms wrapped around my head and dude's chest flush with mine. Some people might find that romantic, but I didn't at the time.

One thing I don't understand at all is when people won't take a seat when the train is full. People will be standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and someone will leave a seat, and no one standing around it will take the seat. It could be because the men standing near it feel especially chivalrous, but the women towards whom those noble impulses are directed find it insulting. I don't know, maybe they just happen to be people who really like standing--like I said, I don't understand it at all. All I know is that it is one of the most awkward situations one can encounter on the El. It simply should not happen.

When a seat opens on a train that is packed with people, for goodness sakes, somebody take the damned seat. If you don't have especially strong feelings about sitting, go ahead and make furtive half-gestures toward others if you feel like offering it to someone nearby, but if your half-gesture is rebuked, just sit down in the seat. The reason this is necessary is an elemental reason: just as nature abhors a vacuum, the el abhors empty space. When I ride the El, the unlucky people who live between the Diversey and Merchandise Mart stops have to pummel their way through the glut of people packed in the spaces near the doors, and some of them have to wait until the next train comes. If you are standing near the middle of the train car and you can see this life-or-death struggle taking place whilst a perfectly good seat is open next to you, you must be some kind of sadist, or an agoraphobe, or claustrophobe, or your knees don't bend or something. People, please, do your fellow Chicagaoans a favor, and fill that gap.

Reference Question of the Day

Today's fun reference question came not fifteen minutes after the library opened. A gentleman called and asked, "Can you use the internet?"

"Yes," I said, "I can use the internet...are you asking whether we have the internet available here?"

"No," he said, "I wanted to find out whether Mayor Daley had 50% of the popular vote in the primary election."

I thought about it for a minute. "Has the primary happened yet?" I asked.

"No, it's February 24th."

"Well, it would be kind of hard to find out if he has 50% of the public vote, because the primary election hasn't happened yet."

"Oh," he said, "oh, OK."

"So you'll want to call us back after the primary election, and then we'll know whether he has 50% of the vote," I said.

"Ok, I will." Then he hung up.