Exactly how black is your soul?

A Facebook friend of a friend greeted the news that the surviving Boston Marathon bomber had gotten the death penalty with: "C Ya" and "Big Like."

His friends said things like, "Why don't we just let a single bullet do the job?"

I'm disgusted.

The Marathon bombing broke my heart and I hated what it did to one of my favorite most cities. (Here's a TT I dedicated to Boston in the aftermath back in 2013.) I resent that, as a country, we gave hospitality, not to mention complete legal rights, to the kid who admitted the murderous act.

That said, you cannot get me to cheer the impending murder of another human being. Especially a murder done in my name. (Since it was a Federal case, it's "The People of the United States vs. ....".) Not the Boston Bomber. Not Osama bin Laden. No one.

Perhaps these acts are justice. Maybe they must be done. I can accept that unhappy reality.

But I refuse to rejoice in it.

Instead, I'll celebrate Martin Richard, the extraordinary little boy who died that day. His mother and his sister both sustained serious, life altering injuries that day, too. Yet Martin has become a symbol of the best in us. I'm going to make a contribution in Martin's memory to Wiggle Your Toes, a group devoted to helping amputees "regain their independence."

This one's for you, Martin