Texas man finds creep molesting his four-year-old daughter, beats him to death.  The case now goes to the grand jury which, this being Texas, would not dare indict, unless it were crystal clear that the child molestation story had been completely fabricated. So far, authorities aren’t even planning to arrest the dad:

Lavaca County Sheriff Micah Harmon said the father, whose name has not been released, will probably not be arrested for Saturday’s killing and that no evidence so far has led investigators to doubt his story.

“There doesn’t appear to be any reason (for the killing) other than what he told us,” Harmon said Monday.

[Insert pro forma regret that the alleged molester was not captured and handed over to the proper authorities.] It’s at times like this that I’m glad we have Texas, where he needed killin’ is an affirmative defense against homicide charges.

UPDATE: OK, OK, I don’t seriously believe “he needed killin’” is a legitimate defense against homicide charges. I am not calling for vigilantism. Stand down, vigilantes! I’m just mouthing off. I don’t feel sorry for the dead man, though, and I am glad the father will likely not face charges. If more child molesters had to fear things like this happening to them, we would have less child molestation, I think. I never will understand why more uncles or men in local Catholic communities didn’t come to a vigorous private understanding with Father Funny Fingers. I am a troglodyte in that way.

UPDATE.2: Probably TMI, but it’s 4 a.m., and I just woke up from a nightmare in which I was reading a newspaper account of a child who looked exactly like one of my children, but wasn’t, and an American journalist who was protecting him. They had been taken prisoner by some corrupt cops, and the child was sexually abused by the corrupt cops and murdered. I was so upset (in the dream) that this had happened, and grieved for the journalist, who survived the ordeal but now had to live with the fact that he couldn’t protect that little boy. The nightmare was so bad there’s no way I’m going to get back to sleep.

Just Monday I went to confession, and in my confession told my priest that I am so quick to anger, especially when I read about things like the Texas story. Two months I haven’t been to communion over my sins of anger, mostly, and I can’t get a day past confession without doing it again. This stuff with kids and sexual abuse goes very, very deep with me. I wouldn’t have batted an eye had a mob torn Jerry Sandusky from limb to limb. I am the mob. There’s another reason why I can’t go back to sleep.