Lethal Injection Under Fire Again

[Doc]

Occhi,

You are absolutely right.  However, the children of those poor choosers don't have much of a chance.  What Doc seems to have had in his favour was an upbringing that, at some point, inculcated him with values that served him well later in life.  To what degree can one fault the child of delinquent or drug-addicted parents for her/his future despair?  You certainly can't lay it all at their feet; we're talking about deep psychological issues here that cannot be corrected by throwing such folks under the bus.
[right][snapback]107578[/snapback][/right]

It sure as hell wasn't people... It was books! Books did it. A love of reading and learning planted seeds in my mind on what things should be. There were people in books, good people, people that seemed totally alien to me because of the folks around me. Whores, card sharps, gamblers, muggerers, buggerers, and thieves. At some point, even as a kid, a little kid, I came to a realisation that this, what I saw all around me, was all I had to look forward to in life if I chose to live that way. I dunno about you folks, but this was a pretty profound thought for a child, at least in my mind. I don't think I was even a teen yet. I realised that if I lived like those people lived, that I was going to grow up and be just like them. Maybe a pimp. A sell drugs perhaps. A thief. A gambler. A crook that does a little bit of everything, some petty thug. And that the best that I could hope for should I live to a decent age was to "go honest" and own my own place, my own little roadhouse out in the stix, where I could get me a cut from all the people that "did business" there. Yeah, I was a kid when I realised this. I realised that if I continued to live in the state foster homes and correctional farms that I was never going to have a chance at all. That way of life would become to ingrained in me, and I would never be able to escape. I changed when I had those realisations. I became an adult in my thinking. I mean, it was an actual overnight sort of change. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING became a calculated move to get my sorry ass out of that situation. I wanted "out" more than I wanted anything else in my whole life, up to that point. I didn't have any shining examples of worthwhile human beings around me at the time as role models to show me the way. But I had books. Hell, I'd get a strapping because I'd have my nose in some book rather than be out some place in the hot sun busting my balls working. They damn sure didn't want me reading and educating my self to escape the system... I figured that out on my own. Didn't want me getting no uppity ideas about where my place in life was. I'd get caught with books in some of those places and I would get the lash for slacking off. I was told flat out that I didn't need to be reading no books, because the only thing I would ever be good for in my life was picking tobacco and fruit. Or whatever. And I knew that if I allowed this choice to be made for me, that would be all I was good for as far as honest work goes... And that kind of honest work don't pay much. I could clearly see which way the winds was a blowing, and I didn't like where those choices would take me.

Books and reading were my only source of hope, inspiration, and they served as both a mentor and a moral compass for me. It made all of the difference in my life. It was my way out. I did all of the work... But it was books that showed me which way to go.

Otherwise, hell, I know how close I came to slipping up and ruining my own life as a young adult. I'd likely be one of those people in prison right now. Or maybe death row. A lifetime criminal, simply because I chose to stay ignorant and not know no better.