The first time California animal rights activist and trauma surgeon Dr. Jerry Vlasak endorsed the murder of scientists who use animals in their medical research (click here for audio), he was speaking as a representative of the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine (PCRM). After a U.S. Senate grilling left no doubt that Vlasak was deadly serious, British immigration added him to its “no entry” list.

That’s good news for UK scientists. But the bad news is that Jerry Vlasak is still here in America—and he’s still defending the use of murder as an animal-rights campaign tactic.

Last night in Los Angeles, KABC-TV aired a story about acts of violence perpetrated by anti-science animal rights protesters. The news story included photography of one research scientist’s car, fully engulfed in flames, after animal activists firebombed it. Another researcher showed KABC reporter David Ono an envelope he received in the mail, containing a razor blade along with “threats to cut my throat."

To a terrorist sympathizer like Jerry Vlasak, who serves as the national spokesperson for the FBI-designated “terrorist” Animal Liberation Front, killing humans to save lab animals is A-OK. In his mind, aspiring arsonists and murderers are modern-day Black Panthers in a new kind of civil rights movement:

"All of these successful liberation struggles have always involved violence or the threat of violence. I would hope that hurting, killing or assassinating would not be necessary. I would say it would be morally justified if all other methods failed."

Is openly advertising a death-wish for your enemies where terrorism begins? Vlasak doesn’t think so:

"I’m not a terrorist. I don’t think I’ve inflicted terror on anybody who didn’t deserve to have terror inflicted on them."

Glad we straightened that out. Not only does Vlasak believe that assassination—literally—is morally justifiable, but he’s also pretty sure any future victims have it coming to them.

We’ve reported before that the California Medical Board is (inexplicably) unwilling to review or revoke Vlasak’s medical license. He could be treating patients—and making life-or-death decisions of a completely different kind—at this very moment.

What would happen if a medical researcher with a lab full of mice were in an accident and landed on Vlasak’s operating table? If the good doctor is a ticking time bomb that goes off tomorrow, don’t say we didn’t warn you.