The Washington Post carries a story this morning about Texas’ execution of a Mexican citizen convicted of a brutal rape and murder of a 14 year old girl.

The Post goes on and on about the United States violating its (unenacted) legal obligations to provide consular assistance to Mexican citizens arrested on United States’ soil.

What the Post conveniently fails to mention is that the rapist and murderer, Mr. Humberto Leal, was in the United States illegally. Also of note is the fact that Mr. Leal’s last act was to shout “Viva Mexico!” twice. ‘Puter is left to wonder whether the rest of Mr. Leal’s rambling apology, noted by the Post, was in Spanish or English, a point the Post does not find worth mentioning.

A few thoughts.

1. If you are in the United States illegally and commit a heinous crime, you should not be able to avail yourself of protections afforded foreigners present here legally. ‘Puter has no problem with legal visitors or residents being afforded consular representation, as the United States had the initial opportunity to examine their backgrounds and determine whether it was appropriate to grant them entry in the first instance. Illegal immigrants, however, short circuit this check on admission. Thus, they should not be afforded the same protection as legally present foreigners should they commit crimes.

2. Mr. Leal’s shout of “Viva Mexico!” on the commencement of his quick, state-funded trip to Hell, indicates a pressing problem with Mexican immigration generally. Many Mexican immigrants, legal and illegal, feel little or no loyalty to America. They have not been assimilated, even those whose families have been present for generations. We need to seriously rethink our immigration policy (both for legals and illegals), as permitting numerous Mexicans residence is fundamentally altering the fabric of the Southwest, California in particular. Witness, for example, the conduct of the awards ceremony for the Mexican soccer team in Spanish at the recent Gold Cup match in Pasadena, California.

3. Despite what the hippies think, the death penalty is not cruel and unusual punishment within the meaning of the Constitution. If a state permits use of the death penalty, and procedural safeguards are followed, that should be the end of the discussion. And this from ‘Puter, who is no fan of the death penalty. States are free to ban capital punishment should their citizens wish. Hippies are just irked that not everyone agrees with their warped worldview.

Now, back to other things. Like eating scrambled eggs with Huy Fong Vietnamese chili garlic sauce. Mmmmm. Burning.

'Puter

Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.

’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.

The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.

His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.

He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.

Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.

‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.