Slow Release

I don't feel sorry for Tookie, he made his bed and now he gets what we all want, to know the hour of our death, if not strapped down on a gurney and given a lethal cocktail, granted; but I do feel sorry for us for killing him. Such good little hypocrites we are. It's okay for us to run the world and our own house behind the barrel of a gun, but heaven help us if one of the help or foreign proxies picks up one and wants something more than his or her station; and you can never change the station. No excuses though, we all have it coming, or will have by our own end.