EDITOR
Doug Kouma
OPINION
EDITOR
Anne Hjersman
EDITORIAL
BOARD
Doug Peters
Matt Waite
Paula Lavigne
Mitch Sherman
Anthony Nguyen
i
Speaking out
Clinton is learning
talk’s not so cheap
Mother Nature and the White House
doctors have done what the Republican party
has been trying to do for more than five years
—get President Clinton //_
to stop talking. ••
After a fiber optic
examination of the 1 tie
president’s throat, doc- rJnpfnrc
tors in Washington told o
him the same thing his 0/7 v ‘AJn
own White House doc- ^9
tor told him earlier this TYlOTd VClk. ’
week: “Shut yer trap,” J
as they say in Arkansas. The
According to The
Associated Press, Mike president
McCurry, the , j , .
president’s mouthpiece, tICIS lOSt rllS
er, spokesman, said the Tf iq
doctors found no other COlCe. 11 IS
symptoms orcomplicat- Missing In
ing factors and recom- 0
mended he not speak for Action. ”
three or four days. *
“The doctors say,
No more yak,”’ McCurry said. “The presi
dent has lost his voice. It is Missing In Ac
tirwi ”
Clinton’s condition has nagged him since
his long trip to the Far East just before
Thanksgiving.
And here’s the funny part: The doctors
blamed talking too much as the cause —
overuse at the end of the campaign season,
an overseas trip to the Far East and dry air
on Air Force One.
There is a lesson that all of Washington
could learn. Too much talk and not enough
action has real consequences.
Imagine what must be going through the
minds of Washington insiders on the GOP
side. “You mean I can criticize the president
and he can’t hit back?” some GOP talker is
probably thinking.
Thank the stars Washington, however
childish it may get, really isn’t a kindergar
ten class. We’d have to listen to Trent Lott
and Newt Gingrich telling the media
Clinton’s mom wore combat boots and his
cat is ugly.
But a more pressing concern to the na
tion is how the inner workings of the presi
dency are going to be taken care of. Are presi
dential aides going to have to cany notebooks
and pens with them so the president can an
swer them?
uan turnon typer Are cabinet meetings
going to be conducted in Internet chat rooms?
Is Clinton going to ask what has been done
on campaign finance reform only to have
some freak with the screen name
“WebWeirdo” tap into the conference and
respond that he has always had a crush on
Wilma from the Flintstones?
Should Vice President A1 Gore take the
reigns of power? Is that worse than a mute
Clinton? Or is the president’s mutability even
a problem for our country?
If we band together and remain calm, we
can all get through this time of crisis. Qui
etly.
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Fall 19% Daily Nebraskan. They do not nec
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r
Hi
TOOK
v
I
Reconciliation is only hope on death row
Editor’s note: This column was
written and submitted by Michael
Ross, who has been on death row
in Connecticut for eight and a hall
years.
When most people think of death
row inmates, I’m the one they think
of. I’m the worst of the worst: a man
who has raped and murdered eight
women, assaulted several others, ant
stalked and frightened many more.
When I am finally executed, the
vast majority of the people of this
state will celebrate my death. /
Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I
can see the hundreds of people who
will gather outside the prison gates
on the night of my execution. I can
see them waving placards, drinking
and rejoicing.
As I await my execution, I live in
an 8-by-10-foot concrete cell for 23
hours a day — 24 hours a day on
weekends. I come out for an hour of
“recreation” five days a week. Other
than that, the only other times that I
come out are a 15-minute shower
five days a week, and an occasional
visit (one half-hour, through glass, o
a telephone).
I eat all of my meals in my cell.
They are brought to me in a
Styrofoam box three times a day. I
live in a single cell, so I live alone -
and since I can only talk to the two
people in the neighboring cells, I
often feel quite alone.
One of the results of this almost
total isolation is that, after a while, e
person is forced to look at himself.
I’m not talking about the cursory,
superficial manner in which most
people look at themselves, but rathe
a quite painful, unrelenting search o
one’s soul.
Many inmates in prison, and mar
of those on death row, are able to lit
convincingly to themselves, to see
themselves as basically good people
who are the innocent victims of a
corrupt judicial system or of an
unfair and uncaring society in
general. Sometimes it is very diffici
to honestly see ourselves as we truh
are, and much easier to blame other
as justification for our actions. I
know this to be true because, for
years, that was what I did.
I was angry—angry at everyone
and everything except for the one
person I should have been angry
with: myself. It took a very long time
— years in fact — for this anger to
subside and for me to begin to accept
l who I was and what I had become,
and even longer before I was ready
and willing to accept responsibility
for my actions.
My transformation began when I
was diagnosed with a paraphiliac
mental disorder for which I now
receive medication. The drug, Depo
Lupron, clears my mind of the vile
and noxious thoughts of rape and
murder that plagued me for so long,
and it eliminates the previously
uncontrollable urges that drove me to
commit the crimes that put me here
on death row.
That monster still lives in my
head, but the medication has chained
him and has banished him to the back
of my mind. And while he is still able
n to mock me, he can no longer control
me. I control him; I am human again.
You cannot begin to imagine what
a milestone this was in my life. Try to
imagine experiencing filthy and
despicable urges, desires and
fantasies of the degradation, rape and
murder of innocent women. Day in
and day out. They fill your thoughts
and fantasies when you are awake.
They are in your dreams when you
sleep. Imagine trying to control the
urges, day by day, hour by hour. And
try to imagine the self-hatred,
loathing and abhorrence that you
develop toward yourself when you
iy fail'
! Only when you have experienced
what I have lived with can you begin
to understand the true blessing that
this medication was to me. It gave
me back my mind—a clear mind,
free of the malevolent thoughts and
It urges. And it allowed my humanity tc
r awaken—giving me back something
s that I thought I had lost forever.
It was like a spotlight was shined
down on me, burning away the mist,
exposing every shadow of my being.
I began to see things as they really
were. I began to see things I didn’t
like, and that brought me great
anguish.
I saw how weak and afraid I really
was—I had always thought I was
strong and confident. I saw how I had
allowed the monster in my mind to
take control of me. And worst of all,
I saw the pain that I had brought to
so many — such great and unceasing
pain. I began to feel the terrible
agony and distress that I had brought
to my victims, their families, their
friends, and my own family.
I saw the truth of what I had
become and what I had done, and I
began to feel the awesome weight of
my responsibility for my actions and
of my responsibility to the people
whom I have harmed. And finally, I
felt a profound sense of guilt — an
intense, overwhelming and pervasive
guilt that surrounds myvery soul
with dark, tormented clouds filled
with a mixture of self-hatred,
remorse, regrets and sorrow.
All of this leaves me with a deep
desire to make amends and achieve
reconciliation—a reconciliation
with the spirit of my victims, with all
the people I have harmed, with
myself and with my God. Under the
circumstances, this seems all but
impossible. This will be the final,
and undoubtedly the most difficult,
part of my transformation.
If it is God’s will, I will achieve
that reconciliation that I so desire,
and hopefully be transformed into
one who is worthy of redemption and
forgiveness.
My journey is still far from over,
but at least now I can see that there is
a light at the end of the tunnel. May
God give me strength, perseverance
and moral fortitude to complete my
journey before I am finally executed.
34 Nebraska Union, 1400 "R" St., Lincoln,
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