Doug Blough

How do I support thee, oh capital punishment? Let me count the ways. Actually, Richard Speck, butcher of eight student nurses in 1966 had me at: “If they knowed how much fun I’m having in here, they’d turn me loose.” The pockmarked mass murderer said this while grinning salaciously for the interviewer.

As he made that boastful summation of his own punishment, it was crystal-clear there wasn’t one shred of remorse or regret. But that’s what life in prison as opposed to death leads to ... “If they knowed how much fun I’m having, they’d turn me loose.”

Another case that made me sweet on the death penalty is one I watched recently on one of my addictive, true-life crime shows chronicling how the kidnapper/murderer of a sweet little girl planned each of his endless appeals to correspond with the girl’s birthday, date of death, etc, just to torment and torture her loved ones.

Like that monster and Speck’s giddy situation didn’t convince me deeply enough that capital punishment is the only true justice for the worst-of-the-worst, I stumbled onto the Richard Ramirez, “The Night Stalker” biopic/interview on ID. Where Speck committed his evil in a one-night frenzy, rabid satanist Ramirez committed his dozens over years, encompassing many forms of grisly methods, including stomping one elderly woman to death.

Ramirez was a nobody — skinny, bedraggled loser with terrible teeth while he was killing all these innocents and leaving behind satanic symbols. By the time his nationally-followed, drawn out trial was over, he had gotten his teeth fixed and transformed himself into a suit-wearing, perm-sporting, camera-flirting sex symbol. Women by the score vowed their undying love and sent him endless, fawning love letters.

He eventually settled on a 30-ish virgin woman named Doreen Lioy and married her in a sweet, little ceremony. This ID interviewer asked if there was any message he wished to get to Doreen, but Ramirez said not to worry, “She has level-one security clearance.” In this case, he did actually receive a death sentence, which of course never arrived (justice delayed; justice denied) and he eventually died peacefully of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. In my humble, unrepentant opinion, he should have been stomped to death within two appeals and five years.

Watching Speck’s interview, I thought, “I bet during his sentencing discussion, anti-death fanatics said, ‘Death is too easy for him; let him rot in prison and spend every minute thinking about the terrible things he’s done.’” Yeah, right! The problem with that sincere but atrocious logic is that in the same way decent people can’t imagine committing these heartless crimes, decent people can only imagine prison to be a horrible place. And it would be ... for them. But to an unrepentant, callous killer, simply losing freedom can actually be quite pleasant and advantageous.

Anti-deathers don’t stop to consider — are genetically unable to process — is that never having to work again, sleeping whenever and however long, have three meals a day prepared and delivered, and best of all, to be surrounded every second by like-minded individuals who contrary to being repulsed by your crimes, appreciate and often are in awe of them. As long as you’re not a child-rapist, serial killer is actually the upper-echelon of respect in the big house. The more you’ve killed, the more famous and idolized rock star you become.

Speck was sentenced to 100-300 years in prison, but died of a heart attack on the eve of his 50th birthday, most likely still smiling broadly and having all that fun. I’ve rarely seen lifers, or even death row inmates far outliving their sentences who didn’t look smug, fat and happy.