October 25, 1987<\/p>\n
Autumn in New England. The air feels crisp. I need more than a sweater to sit here by the lake. It\u2019s 3 in the afternoon. I left the office and drove to my favorite spot. The old patchwork comforter provides a layer between my body and the chilly ground. The sun, at just the right angle, forces the crimson and gold leaved trees to see themselves on the smooth surface of the lake. I\u2019m not close enough to the edge to see my own reflection. A slight breeze crosses over me. I shiver and grab my pea coat, draping it over my shoulders. Reaching into my right pocket I pull out a pack of Marlboro Lights and a Bic lighter. I don\u2019t smoke as much as Doug, who is up to half a pack a day. Shielding the lighter from the mild wind with my cupped hand, I manage to light the cancer stick on the first try. Then, leaning back on my elbows, turning my face toward the sun with closed eyes, I will its rays to warm my cheeks.<\/p>\n
I take a deep drag off my cigarette, open my eyes trying to see the smoke rings I blow, but the sunlight blinds me. Abruptly I sit up as if the sun has reminded me what I\u2019m doing here in the first place. Reaching into my left pocket, I pull out a wad of folded papers. Unfolding them, I tuck the newspaper clipping about the Johnson case under my leg and begin reading the photocopied article: Baron Paul Henri d\u2019Holbach\u2019s \u201cA Defense of Determinism.\u201d<\/p>\n
The article: “Those who have affirmed that the soul is distinguished from the body, is immaterial, draws its ideas from its own peculiar source, acts by its own energies, without the aid of any exterior object, have, by a consequence of their own system, enfranchised [liberated] it from those physical laws according to which all beings of which we have a knowledge are obliged to act. They have believed that the soul is mistress of its own conduct, is able to regulate its own peculiar operations, has the faculty to determine its will by its own natural energy; in a word, they have pretended that man is a free agent\u2026”<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n It\u2019s not an easy read and I\u2019m unpracticed, unlike my husband who reads this sort of thing every day. I haven\u2019t actually read this, or anything like this since I graduated. And, although I hadn\u2019t memorized it word for word by any means, I knew the gist of it. More than that, I lived by it. Remember it\u2019s my God alternative. I wasn\u2019t kidding about that.<\/p>\n The gist of it: We humans seem to think we have free will, it feels like we have free will, so we must, mustn\u2019t we? Hell no, according to d\u2019Holbach. We are far from free agents, controlled by mere impulses in our brains, those purely physical things inside of our skulls dictating our every move \u2013 including our decisions. We are no more in control of our desire for potato chips than we are for our desire for love, freedom, or nicotine. We didn\u2019t ask to be born into our particular family. We didn\u2019t choose our DNA. We had no control over our own personality development. Our brain does what it does based on competing impulses. The force of each impulse directs our behavior. A decision to do X instead of Y is simply the outcome of a stronger impulse to do X. Cause and effect. Our decisions are all effects of previous causes, none of which are in our control. We are simply slaves to our impulses, and can, therefore not be blamed for our decisions.<\/em><\/p>\n Get it?<\/p>\n Distracted with my reading, I let the ashes accumulate on the tip of my cigarette. They grow heavy and drop onto the faded blanket. I smash the butt on the bottom of my shoe and start a pile of extinguished filters. Turning my attention back to the article, page 4, I absent-mindedly light another.<\/p>\n The filter pile increases to four by the time I finish the article. My Bible.<\/p>\n Raymond Johnson is dead. Executed in the electric chair at 10:08 p.m. last night. No more appeals. No stay of execution from the governor. No last minute heroics on my part to save him.<\/p>\n Surprised? You shouldn\u2019t be. Did you expect me to simply decide to change everything about myself \u2013 all of those causes that created me \u2013 and become someone different at the end of the story? I\u2019ve carried the lie for 10 years. There was no choice. My inaction comes from deep within me. It\u2019s who I am.<\/p>\n Go ahead, judge me. Go ahead, blame me.<\/p>\n Say it.\u00a0\u00a0 Raymond Johnson is dead and it\u2019s YOUR FAULT.<\/p>\n I light another cigarette. My ass is numb from sitting so long in one spot. I\u2019d better be going soon. Another deep drag. I pull the newspaper article out from underneath my leg and open it. No need to read it again. It\u2019s over. Extending my arm, dangling the newspaper in front of me, I touch my lit cigarette to its corner. Light damnit. But it doesn\u2019t catch. I feel around on the quilt for the Bic. Flick. There. The article burns. I stand, walk over to the lake and toss the small piece still aflame. Close enough to the edge, I see my own reflection. It is me. With no shame.<\/p>\n Acknowledgements<\/strong>: \u00a0Special thanks to Kathleen Lucas Executive Director padp.org<\/a> for helping me with background on the death penalty and proofreading and to Gerard Raus for proofreading and encouragement. \u00a0Much appreciation to my readers and those of you who cheered me on. \u00a0Your words of support mean the world to me!<\/em><\/p>\n For further reading see d’Holbach’s entire argument on determinism. \u00a0http:\/\/www.gutenberg.org\/files\/8909\/8909-h\/8909-h.htm#link2H_4_0018<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"