Well, Tookie's gone. According to an AP reporter who witnessed the execution, it took them at least fifteen extra minutes to administer the IV's. That must have been a fun fifteen minutes.

Souljah's got a pretty funny take on this. You know, not ha-ha funny 'cause this is capital punishment, but witty. So check it out.

Ok, tell me if I've got this straight: Killing is morally wrong, so in order to show how wrong it is the state kills the killers. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around that one.

It seems the reasoning, more to the point, is simply to prevent more innocent people from being killed by showing what we do to the killer. Take away those sticky higher moral issues of killing anyone and you might have an argument.

Except that after 1000 inmates killed since 1977, when the death penalty was re-legalized, this measure hasn't seemed to make most people think twice before pulling the trigger.

Editor's note: This would be the part where Dickie throws in statistics...but frankly he's just too damn lazy. He's on vacation here, people. Cut him some goddamn slack already.

So it's just us, along with progressive nations like axis-of-evil favorite Iran and Saudi Arabia. Good times.

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A really funny story about capital punishment: Yesterday morning I'm taking my pussy AM jog. I'm waiting for the little "walk"-guy signal, you know, for the retards who don't know how to read, and when he finally appears I take a few paces into the intersection before almost getting run-over by someone making a right turn onto Jefferson.

I jump back as the car brakes in mid-turn. Normally, this is the point where the shamed driver collects him/herself, and after a deep breath drives on, anonymously. But this guy just sits there. So I wait, then start running around the back bumper, continuing across the street.

The driver rolls down his window and calls after me, "Hey, I'm really, really sorry about that!" I turn and look. And grin. I haven't been in the country for 15 hours, and my high school Western Civ teacher almost killed me with his car.

So I go back and shake his hand, laughing. "Hey, no problem! How are you? Can you pull over for a sec?"

"Sure, of course. Absolutely."

So he pulls over on Jefferson and I follow. He gets out, and starts a frantic explanation. "Gosh, I am so sorry I went to bed at about 2:30AM last night so I'm not paying atten-"

And it dawns on me: He still has no fucking clue who I am. He doesn't recognize me with the sunglesses, four days-worth of beard, and my new Caracas Leones cap.** He didn't stop in the intersection - and then pull to the side - because I was me. He did it because I was...anyone.

That is the perfect story to explain the generous guy Mr. P is, without describing him. When I took off the glasses he was floored; I chuckled, and he kept apologizing and repeating how he didn't fall asleep until after 2:30.

Honestly, from the looks of things, the guy hasn't slept in 6 months.

"...Is everything OK?" I asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, you know - it's just this Tookie Williams thing. I can't believe how Schwarzenegger can get up there and talk about being a Christian and then go and do something like this."

These are the things that keep Mr. P, married with two kids, up until 2:30 in the morning. No kidding. The guy's a living saint.

But something tells me he didn't sleep very well last night either.

This morning, I went running at 9:30 - well after first period started. Just to be safe.




**You know, the greatest baseball franchise in sport history after Your Los Angeles Dodgers.