The Pentagon’s plan, which was announced by Secretary of Defense, um, I mean, War, Pete Hegseth to livestream the execution of mass murderer Nidal Malik Hasan was shot down last week by President Trump.
While the livestreaming of an execution raised a lot of eyebrows and fomented debate in the public ideas marketplace, there’s a tremendous opportunity being missed out on for America to reaffirm its greatest national principle: absolutely ANYTHING can become a revenue stream if we stop letting decency interfere.
Some people see a solemn exercise of state power, but sheer visionaries see programming options. Why should taxpayers shoulder the expense of executions when viewers could purchase Freedom’s Final Countdown for $79.99? For another twenty bucks, the premium package could include commentary from a retired general, a commemorative digital flag NFT and the ability to skip commercials, save for those deemed essential to national security.
Naturally, the broadcast would need sponsors, and I can hear the ominous voiceover in my head as I type this: “Tonight’s administration of justice is brought to you by a mattress company, a cryptocurrency exchange and a supplement that promises to restore men to the levels of testosterone our Founding Fathers intended.”
Critics will insist that turning a killing into entertainment degrades the country, but it’s clear that these people clearly don’t understand American greatness. We have already monetized illness and loneliness, thus leaving death, itself, insufficiently branded would amount to surrendering an entire market.
And what about the halftime entertainment? Why, I’m certainly glad you asked, because step right up…
Granted, an execution doesn’t ordinarily have two halves, but, then again, presidential campaigns typically don’t need professional wrestling entrances, and we have demonstrated remarkable flexibility there.
The proceedings could pause for the Kid Rock Patriotism Power Hour. He could emerge through red, white and blue smoke, standing atop a replica of the Constitution large enough that nobody would be tempted to read it. Behind him, an eagle graphic would soar across a screen displaying the evening’s merchandise link, and that merch would have pictures of the condemned man’s mugshot emblazoned on it all with some sort of message proclaiming the “FO” portion of that old acronymical saw that begins “FA.” Other tasteful merchandise, of course, could include: foam fingers, commemorative cups and T-shirts reading “I Witnessed Accountability,” above the executed’s photo. Victims’ names might appear somewhere, provided they didn’t crowd the sponsor logos.
Other celebrities could contribute prerecorded messages about courage, sacrifice and their upcoming tour dates.
We should also offer a family bundle, because parents are always complaining that everyone spends too much time on separate devices. At last, there’s an opportunity to gather around one screen and teach children that state-sanctioned killing deserves the same snacks as football.
The victims and their families deserve remembrance. Conveniently, remembrance could occupy a brief segment immediately before the truck commercial.
Foreign critics might compare the spectacle to public executions in authoritarian countries. An absurd comparison. Those countries display state violence to intimidate the population. We would display it to intimidate the population and generate shareholder value. That’s innovation. ‘Merican style!
Eventually, executions could become a regular franchise. Networks could bid for exclusive rights. Governors could boast about ratings. Appeals would become scheduling complications, and a stay of execution would require refunds, and surely justice would improve once its administrators had quarterly audience targets.
America has always claimed to possess moral authority. Now we could finally find out what that authority fetches on the open market. So let the cameras roll. Let the celebrity sing. Let the concession stands open.
And if some stubborn little voice asks whether a nation should take pride in making death a spectacle, just turn up the volume.
Kid Rock is coming on to sing “Bawitaba.”
Chris Edwards is editor of the Tyler County Booster, a sister newspaper in the Polk County Publishing Group. He can be reached at cedwards@polkcountypublishing.com.
