W.'s throwing himself on my mercy, he says. Oh he knows I'm merciless, that I will only offer him the most grotesque parody of mercy, W. says, but that's the point. He's fully aware I'm the last person who can help him – that bringing me along to the meeting with his employers is the most foolish of ideas.
Why not take a lawyer?, I ask him. He's allowed to. No, he wants the equivalent of an idiot child, W. says. He wants the equivalent of a diseased ape. I should just sit there beside him with spittle on my lips, he says.
Perhaps it will scare them. Perhaps they'll look upon him in an entirely different way. Did you see who he had with him?, they'll say. What he had with him? My God, we shouldn't make his life any worse, that's what they'll say, W. says. And perhaps then they'll show mercy.
Lars Iyer's Blog 