Gilda

Nonsense. Criminilizing consensual sex between people who are of age was a bad idea in the past, and it's a bad idea now. Her having male genetalia in no way harmed the . . . I can't call them people, as they don't deserve that much respect . . . scum she performed oral sex on. Short of knowingly passing on a communicable disease to a partner, no aspect of consensual sex should be regulated by the government or criminilized.

Perhaps this might help:

Here's what they did to her:

Quote:

They all agreed that if someone did this to a killer, that person would "get smoked." Jaron was always talking like that, trying to sound like a mobster instead of an econ major. But later, recounting the conversation in a letter to his girlfriend, Jaron reported that the guys knew what they were going to do if Lida turned out to be a guy. "We went off on a Tony Soprano-type plan to kill the bitch and get rid of the body," Jaron wrote. [article edited for length. Suspecting that Gwen might be physically male, they invite her into their house] All of a sudden, Jose pushed back his chair, stood up behind her and felt the front of her neck. "What the hell are you doing?" Lida asked. "We want to know why you want everybody to fuck you in the ass," Jose said, already starting to seethe. She looked up at him, startled. "Jose, how can you ask me that?" According to Jaron, who would recall the night in vivid detail, the other guys jumped in. "Just answer the question," they advised Lida. "You're cool to have around, and we just want to know." They had never seen Lida at a loss for words. She stared into space for several long moments before she finally protested, "No, no, no, no, no -- I'm not." By then, Mike had slid his hand between her legs, saying, "Just let me feel it and everything will be chill." But Lida clamped both her hands down on her lap. "No," she said. "I'm not going to let you molest me." Mike pulled back. "Look," he suggested. "Let's go in the bathroom and you can show me." OK, Lida said. But she made a break for the front door, saying she needed a cigarette first. Jaron blocked her way. "You've got to do this first," he instructed her. Mike took Lida into the little guest bathroom near the front door. After the lock clicked, the rest of the guys sat around the table, talking about how this might be a dude after all. A real girl would have answered the question quick and easy, right? Why had Lida hesitated so long? "I swear, if it's a man, I'll kill him," Jose hissed. "If it's a dude, she's not leaving -- he's not leaving." Finally Mike emerged. "Same old shit," he reported. "She won't let me feel." The guys decided that Nicole might have more luck, being a woman, so she and Mike went back in the bathroom. Jose stalked outside to take a piss. A minute later, Mike came out again. "I didn't feel balls," he said, "but I felt two pairs of underwear. That's a man. That's got to be a man. I don't know what I'm going to do." "Just be calm and think clear," Jaron told him. "Whatever you do, don't make a mess." Mike got behind him and put a chokehold on Jaron's skinny neck. "What about this?" he asked. "Can you breathe?" Jaron could only shake his head no. Suddenly, they heard a scream. Nicole came busting out of the bathroom, yelling, "This is a fucking man!" Lida bolted toward the front door, but Mike caught her, pinned her to the carpet, yanked up her skirt, peeled back her underwear. "Fucking balls," he spat. "Right there -- fucking balls." He let Lida stand up and got behind her, putting a chokehold on her. Jose stunned his friends by starting to cry. "I can't be gay," he repeated over and over again. "I can't be fucking gay." Nicole tried to console him. "Any girl you meet after this, it won't make a difference," she told him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You still look like the football player I knew you as." Mike had Lida down on the carpet again, his legs locked around hers, his meaty forearm clamping down on her Adam's apple. Jay pulled him off and Lida struggled to her knees. "Please don't," she gasped. "I have a family." Jose ran to the kitchen and grabbed a can of food. When he came back into the living room, he reared back and pounded Lida over the head with it. She crumpled against the wall, blood welling up on the crown of her head. Jose ran out again, came back this time with a frying pan. Mike propped Lida up while Jose swung and connected, square on her forehead. Nicole decided to leave. Jay and Jaron got into Mike's truck. "They're going to kill that bitch," Jay said. The two friends drove to the house where Jay lived with his parents. Tiptoeing into the pitch-black storage shed, they used their lighters to locate three shovels and a pick. Ten minutes later, they were back at the party house. Lida was sitting on the couch by then, hands in her lap, blood streaking down her face. Jose was bitching about the blood, how it was getting everywhere, how he was going to have to clean it up. "Get off the couch," he ordered Lida. She did as she was told, standing up against the wall while Jose furiously scrubbed blood off the cushions. Mike came in from the garage and asked Jaron for his ten-inch hunting knife. A minute later he was back with an armful of white rope. "Enough is enough," Jaron thought. It seemed like this had been going on for a couple of hours, and sooner or later Lida would start yelling and wake the neighbors. "Knock the bitch out," he said. Mike dropped the rope and punched Lida in the face, once, twice. She fell limp, slid down the wall, landed ass-first with a muffled thud. Perfect position for Mike to knee her a couple of more times, right in the face. The second time, Jaron heard Lida's head snap back into the wall, leaving a puckered dent in the plaster. Mike picked up the rope and wrapped it around her wrists four or five times. He did the same thing with her ankles. Seeing that her blood was getting everywhere, Jay fetched a comforter. They wrapped Lida in it. She wasn't putting up a fight anymore. Her legs jutted out the bottom of the blanket, below her smooth brown calves, but the rest of her was bundled up well enough for Mike, Jay and Jaron to hoist her up and cart her out to the garage. Jose kept scrubbing the couch and crying. In the garage, where they first tasted Lida's lips just a couple of months before, broken crap was strewn everywhere. There was a washer and dryer, an old refrigerator and a beat-up car buried under a pile of junk. The guys dumped Lida on a piece of carpet near the back door. Mike grabbed a loose end of the rope with his bloody hands, pulled it around her neck and twisted, hard. [Jaron later confessed to the police and led them to Gwen's body] On the way, he retraced for the cops what happened after they killed Lida. How the four of them piled into Mike's truck, the body flung in back along with the shovels and pick. How they headed for Silver Fork because they had gone there as kids, and because Jay heard there was only one sheriff patrolling the whole vast wilderness up there. How they drove the four hours in near-total silence, making sure not to exceed the speed limit, until they finally climbed into the mountains and hung a right -- right here -- at Silver Fork Road. How they bumped farther and farther into the woods, until they were almost lost amid the cedar trees. How they fell into perfect sync as they dug a makeshift grave, everything quiet except for the wind and the whoosh of the nearby river. How you could hear Lida's body thud on the ground when they dragged it out of the back of the truck and flung it in the grave. How Jose broke the silence, saying, "I could kick her a couple more times, shit makes me so mad." How they threw rocks on top of the body and heaved a hollow tree trunk over the grave to make it look more natural. How, realizing that they were hungry, they hit the drive-through at the first McDonald's they spotted, just down the mountain in Placerville.

No, her actions weren't "pristine". Few victims of violent crime are. That's entirely irrelevant. Read the above, what these cockroaches did to her.

What exactly had she done to them to deserve this?

She seduced them and had consensual sex with them. That doesn't justify their so much as laying one finger on her.

Gilda

Link to the article in Rolling Stone from which the above information is taken.

P.S. I was watching a rerun of The West Wing yesterday which dealt with the murder of a young man for being gay, hate crimes, and the death penalty. President Bartlet asks his aide, Charlie, whose mother was a police officer killed in the line of duty, if he would want to see his mother's killer executed.

I place myself in his shoes by imagining how I'd feel if this were my sister who had been killed, if I would want to see her killers executed, and my answer is the same as Charlie's:

No. I'd want to do it myself.

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