(November 25, 2017 at 9:06 am)Boru Anomalocaris Wrote:(November 24, 2017 at 4:42 pm)Catholic_Lady Wrote: Stay silent. I won't have to feel horrible about myself for turning on my partner, and I would trust my partner not to turn me in either.
Can Christians go to heaven merely for not snitching on fellow robbers? I guess god loves robbers more than Girl Scouts, huh?
(November 24, 2017 at 10:01 pm)vorlon13 Wrote: Why isn't blaming victim an option ?
This is America and it's 2017.
Cuz bob Mueller is out to get you, not the Girl Scouts.
(November 24, 2017 at 4:23 pm)shadow Wrote: You and your partner in crime from AF have had a good run robbing girl scouts of their cookies, but unfortunately you've both been arrested and are being interrogated by the police. You have no way to communicate with your partner in crime. The cops don't have enough evidence to convict either you or your partner of the serious charge of cookie theft unless there is a testimony against you. However, they do have enough evidence to get you for the lesser crime of loitering with intent to steal cookies, if they so choose. Your partner is in the same situation.
The cops offer you a deal, and you have 2 options: either testify against your partner, or remain silent.
- If you and your partner both take the deal and testify against each other, you both get 2 years in prison.
- If one of you testifies against the other, the one who testifies gets to walk (0 years in prison). However, the one convicted will get 3 years in prison.
People like to discuss this problem ad infintum, but there's no time for that until you've made your decision. You're in the prisoner's dilemma right now.
- If both of you remain silent, you both get 1 year in prison.
What do you do?
I’d ask about the witness protection program and place my hopes upon my partners in crime respecting honor amongst thieves more than I do.
(November 25, 2017 at 5:41 am)BrianSoddingBoru4 Wrote: You don't talk. You never, EVER talk. As has been pointed out above, not only do snitches get stitches, but they end up in ditches. Even though we're incommunicado with each other, my partner knows this - it's one of the rules of the Biscuit Syndicate. So we get a year, big deal. As members of the Syndicate, coupled with the fact that biscuit thieves stand fairly good in the prison hierarchy, we should have a pretty cushy time of it in the nick.
But there's another option. Our run at stealing cookies turned out to be so profitable, that I'm able to hire a pet psychiatrist to prove that I wasn't in my right mind during the crime spree ('I ask you, M'lud - would a sane man target these poor little girls?'). Getting off with a verdict of 'Diminished Capacity' would not only avoid prison time, but - since it was a non-violent crime - the most I'm likely to get is orders to report to a counselling session one a week for six months, and just go on and on about how I was mentally abused by my domineering mother who forced me to parade around in Father's cocktail dresses.
Boru
Little do you know the cookie cartel has put a prize upon the guilty hand that robbed their halcones of their confectionary. Whichever of you gets out first gets his hand chopped off.
Maybe the psychiatrist can put you into a trance and convince you you were born one handed.
Clearly, you are unaware that the Biscuit Syndicate laugh scoffingly at the Cookie Cartel. 'Ha, ha!' we scoff. The last time the pathetic Cartel sent one of their operatives to harvest a Syndicate hand, we sent his corpse back, beaten to death with Thin Mints and S'mores. Since then (the culmination of the Great Internecine Snack War Of 1922) the Cartel have known their place and kept to it.
Boru
‘But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods or no gods. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.’ - Thomas Jefferson
