the punishment lighter

The Truth [Ao3]

When Rick and his group are captured and subjugated by Negan and the Saviors, Rick is desperate to protect his people from further harm. So, when Negan offers them a chance at a lighter punishment, Rick reluctantly agrees to a strange and confusing arrangement that shows him a very different side of the man in charge.

Hate crimes aren't bad because they are motivated by intention: they are bad because they are crimes.

There is no objective difference between a random assault and a targeted assault. Someone was assaulted, and that’s always wrong, all the time.

Consider this scenario. Two kids are on an overpass with five rocks. One kid throws throws his rocks at every third car with no regard to any other factor. The other kid throws his rocks at the first five Hondas he sees, because he dislikes Honda.

The two crimes are objectively identical: they each damaged five cars. It would be unjust to punish the second kid more than the first when their crimes are identical.

Otherwise, any criminal would just have to plead that they were stupid and reckless, like this scumbag apologist police chief is doing with the Chicago kidnapping, in order to achieve a lighter sentence.

Punishing “hate crimes” more than random crime undermines the point of justice: everyone should have equal and absolute protection to their rights, and an equal and absolute right to defend themselves against aggression.

Growing Pains

@winterxsoldierxbarnes

The boy seemed withdrawn, gazing the piece of snuggled in chocolate before dropping it with a head shake and then hugged his scrapped knees. His distraction cost him greatly while training with his Sisters. And failure meant punishment - lighter this time, with Zima returning the same night, no marks could be left on purpose. And Anya went away for the day as well. Downstairs where they kept the big TV and Zima’s Chair. She had yet to return but he knew she wouldn’t be the same. Like Zima, too, never was the same when he returned from a trip downstairs.

Nobody to talk to. And being a full moon night, it meant fewer stars to chat with.

“I’m not hungry, Zima.” The little one commented, green eyes obscured by the wild mop of hair that the headmistress wanted cut off, “I can eat later?”