O, to be 17 years, 364 days old
U.S. Supreme Court Abolishes Juvenile death penalty
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JoeUser Forums
O, to be 17 years, 364 days old.
Sure, I might not be able to buy cigarettes if I choose (assuming that the seller actually checks my i.d., which also assumes that I don't have a baby face or don't look much older than my real age).
Sure, I can't legally buy alcohol (which again assumes someone actually checks my i.d.).
Sure, I can't legally vote (assuming I live in an area where my registration would be questioned and i.d. would be checked).
But, I could (even if it's illegal) go out and commit some very disgusting rapes and murders. I could fold, spindle and mutilate. I could destroy with reckless abandon. And if caught, I'd just toss my hands in the air -- similarly to how a character in a "Lethal Weapon" movie did when saying "diplomatic immunity" in taunting Det.'s Riggs and Murtaugh -- and claim to be an unknowing, immature juvenile.
It wouldn't matter if I actually was very mature, and could be judged by a jury of competent individuals to be mature enough to stand trial as an adult. Thanks to Justice Kennedy and his deference to world opinion regarding the juvenile death penalty I wouldn't really have to worry about consequences for my actions.
Life without possibility of parole, you say? Hah. Don't worry. Soon Justice Kennedy and the Amnesty International type crowd would be decrying that penalty as too harsh when applied to an immature individual. Instead, we'd have the penalty reduced to incarceration until age 18, or some other slap on the wrist.
Which brings me back to my point, the title of the article. O, to be 17 years, 364 days old.
Liberalism could be abolished thanks to a violence spree. I could mood swing back the other way and take out the ultra conservatives when I climb behind the wheels of the car that most states believe I'd be mature enough to drive and start running them over like Death Race 2000. I could have such fun, at least for a day. And in the end, I could live in jail. It might not be a great place to live, but I'd be alive. It could be better than where I grew up, it could be worse. But I'd be a ward of the state, living off society. 3 hots and a cot, a minimal work requirement, and a life time to think of the deeds I had done.
Yes, thank you Supremes.
Sure, I might not be able to buy cigarettes if I choose (assuming that the seller actually checks my i.d., which also assumes that I don't have a baby face or don't look much older than my real age).
Sure, I can't legally buy alcohol (which again assumes someone actually checks my i.d.).
Sure, I can't legally vote (assuming I live in an area where my registration would be questioned and i.d. would be checked).
But, I could (even if it's illegal) go out and commit some very disgusting rapes and murders. I could fold, spindle and mutilate. I could destroy with reckless abandon. And if caught, I'd just toss my hands in the air -- similarly to how a character in a "Lethal Weapon" movie did when saying "diplomatic immunity" in taunting Det.'s Riggs and Murtaugh -- and claim to be an unknowing, immature juvenile.
It wouldn't matter if I actually was very mature, and could be judged by a jury of competent individuals to be mature enough to stand trial as an adult. Thanks to Justice Kennedy and his deference to world opinion regarding the juvenile death penalty I wouldn't really have to worry about consequences for my actions.
Life without possibility of parole, you say? Hah. Don't worry. Soon Justice Kennedy and the Amnesty International type crowd would be decrying that penalty as too harsh when applied to an immature individual. Instead, we'd have the penalty reduced to incarceration until age 18, or some other slap on the wrist.
Which brings me back to my point, the title of the article. O, to be 17 years, 364 days old.
Liberalism could be abolished thanks to a violence spree. I could mood swing back the other way and take out the ultra conservatives when I climb behind the wheels of the car that most states believe I'd be mature enough to drive and start running them over like Death Race 2000. I could have such fun, at least for a day. And in the end, I could live in jail. It might not be a great place to live, but I'd be alive. It could be better than where I grew up, it could be worse. But I'd be a ward of the state, living off society. 3 hots and a cot, a minimal work requirement, and a life time to think of the deeds I had done.
Yes, thank you Supremes.
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