To: Anne L. Precythe, Director of Department of Corrections, The Missouri State House, The Missouri State Senate, and Governor Mike Parson
#TheKillBillState
To amend chapter 558, RSMo, by adding one new section relating to prison terms and related funding. Allowing an inmate who has achieved all of the requirements to petition the courts and request an ELD.
Why is this important?
If You Could Die Fast Or Slow, What Would You Choose?
These are the words of a dying man. I've been labeled a menace to society and sentenced to die for my charges. Not the kind of death where I'll be strapped to a gurney and injected with poison, but the kind where my humanity is slowly siphoned off until there is no one left.
What do I have to do to earn a more merciful death? If my heart had only been darker and my intent hellishly wicked, then public disgust and fear would have granted me a level of mercy that their sense of righteousness doesn't or won't.
Before they allow me to die, it has been decided I shall first be required to bear the deaths of a number of friends and loved ones, without the benefit or comfort of being present I shall first be required to recite my name and prison ID number aloud every night (as if I need reminding) I shall first be required to subject myself to daily frisking by strangers I shall first be required to strip naked twice, bending over and spreading my cheeks both times while I'm commanded to cough, for two hugs and a few hours of conversation with those who have not yet passed away that I shall first have to live in a bathroom with another man, who I may or may not have reason to fear and I'm expected to continue this menial charade of an existence as my body withers and deteriorates until Mother Nature completes the process and kills me herself.
I'm expected to do all of this, and more, with an attitude of civility and appreciation. If I fail to meet their subjective standards on either account, I risk having the sun taken from me, as well as, contact with the loved ones I have left.
Every year, the State sits me down and asks what my goals for the year are, reviews my record of behavior, and then inquires what rehabilitative classes I intend to participate in.
My goal is to continue maintaining employment and nurturing a healthy relationship with those I have left. My last infraction of the rules equates to a speeding ticket over a decade ago and I've taken every applicable class available (some twice). These answers are the same as last year. They pat me on the head and tell me I can return to my cell.
I'm serving a sentence that does not grant me a meaningful opportunity to be released. My crime was judged undeserving of the reasonably expedient death (short on prolonged daily deprecation) provided under the death penalty. My sentence was issued under the guise of ethical treatment meant to ensure the punishment fits the crime. A person who's not bad enough to kill, just dehumanize and torture with a carrot of hope.
These are the words of a dying man. I've been labeled a menace to society and sentenced to die for my charges. Not the kind of death where I'll be strapped to a gurney and injected with poison, but the kind where my humanity is slowly siphoned off until there is no one left.
What do I have to do to earn a more merciful death? If my heart had only been darker and my intent hellishly wicked, then public disgust and fear would have granted me a level of mercy that their sense of righteousness doesn't or won't.
Before they allow me to die, it has been decided I shall first be required to bear the deaths of a number of friends and loved ones, without the benefit or comfort of being present I shall first be required to recite my name and prison ID number aloud every night (as if I need reminding) I shall first be required to subject myself to daily frisking by strangers I shall first be required to strip naked twice, bending over and spreading my cheeks both times while I'm commanded to cough, for two hugs and a few hours of conversation with those who have not yet passed away that I shall first have to live in a bathroom with another man, who I may or may not have reason to fear and I'm expected to continue this menial charade of an existence as my body withers and deteriorates until Mother Nature completes the process and kills me herself.
I'm expected to do all of this, and more, with an attitude of civility and appreciation. If I fail to meet their subjective standards on either account, I risk having the sun taken from me, as well as, contact with the loved ones I have left.
Every year, the State sits me down and asks what my goals for the year are, reviews my record of behavior, and then inquires what rehabilitative classes I intend to participate in.
My goal is to continue maintaining employment and nurturing a healthy relationship with those I have left. My last infraction of the rules equates to a speeding ticket over a decade ago and I've taken every applicable class available (some twice). These answers are the same as last year. They pat me on the head and tell me I can return to my cell.
I'm serving a sentence that does not grant me a meaningful opportunity to be released. My crime was judged undeserving of the reasonably expedient death (short on prolonged daily deprecation) provided under the death penalty. My sentence was issued under the guise of ethical treatment meant to ensure the punishment fits the crime. A person who's not bad enough to kill, just dehumanize and torture with a carrot of hope.