Oscar Pistorius did a year in prison for shooting and killing his girlfriend, and now he’s released for four years of house arrest and “correctional supervision.” I don’t really know what that means, but it definitely sounds a lot better than the whole prison thing where you spend all day locked down in a sucky environment, all paying for your crimes and shit. Short recap:
Oscar Pistorius, the Blade Runner, the courageous disabled sports hero turned out to be a paranoid, gun-obsessed, controlling asshole with a jealous streak a mile wide. Text messages were a major feature in the trial — she was afraid of him, his temper was out of control. Witnesses said they heard a man and a woman arguing, a woman screaming, gunshots. He said that he woke up in bed thinking an intruder had locked themselves in his bathroom. He immediately opened fire through the locked bathroom door, successfully neutralizing the intruder. Then, after calling for help and beating the door down with a cricket bat, he was like “Oh no, the intruder was actually my girlfriend, Reeva Steenkamp, who I imagined was still laying in my own bed the whole time.”
He was convicted of culpable homicide, “the unlawful negligent killing of a human being,” which isn’t quite getting away with murder, but about as close as you could reasonably expect. I mean, the circumstances look pretty damning to ME, but that’s just my opinion, man. Explaining why the story continues to bug me, besides the obvious, is partly where you’re like damn, if a beautiful, blonde, white woman can’t get justice, then who can? The other scary part is that this isn’t even the only example that comes to mind about shithead boyfriends, smoking guns, and flimsy stories being accepted at face value.