The Worm Squirms

The assassin of John Lennon just got denied parole, for the seventh time. Many years ago my brother referred to him and I corrected him by saying, “the worm.”

“The what?” he said.

“The Worm,” I replied. “You don’t say his name. He’s a worm and worm’s don’t have names.”

He smiled, “That’s funny. That’s what they said about the guy who shot Wild Bill Hickok.” My brother wasn’t a Beatles fan but he was a fan of the Old West.

As far as I’m concerned “the Worm” made his deal and that deal was he gets to be linked together with the Beatles forever and in return he gets to live in prison forever. I don’t care how “reformed” and “rehabilitated” he may be. I don’t care if he’s been a model prisoner, has educated himself and found Jesus, a deal’s a deal.

Hopefully, as time goes by and he dies, his name dies with him and although we’ll never forget that John Lennon was murdered the name of his murder will be lost just as Garfield and McKinley's assassins or Archduke Franz Ferdinand’s assassin are all but forgotten to all but History majors. For that matter, in case you’ve also forgotten, Garfield and McKinley were American Presidents and Franz Ferdinand was European royalty (before becoming an Indie band).

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