samuraiprosecutor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
samuraiprosecutor) wrote2008-05-03 11:15 pm
samuraiprosecutor) wrote2008-05-03 11:15 pm
42: [Private; hackable] Strange...
((OOC: Backdating to last night, 5-2-08 comm time. Long-winded rambling on various subjects including Maraich and Bourne, Phoenix and how gay he is for him, ellipses-abuse and, of course, Sigi.))
Unreality surrounds us. The longer we're here, the more often we find reality peeling back; strangers in settings of normalcy and painfully normal people in strange settings.
The dragon was...a bit much.
Yet it's the human element that weighs the most heavily. The question of Maraich and Webb's respective crimes is always present, lately. Distracting, frustrating. Their different approaches should make an answer easier, should... They don't. Nothing does.
Webb...struggles. That is clear. He knows what he has done. He accepts it, though the amnesia allows him a convenient curtain to hide behind; he is no coward. He tries to make amends...and knows he can't. At least, it seems that he knows, sometimes. Though the methods of murder were different, life has taught us many of the same lessons, I think. Yet there's a hope in him, still, a belief that forgiveness might be attainable...and a fear that it is not. Telling him the truth--that the ones forgiveness must come from are no longer able to give it--isn't easy.
His victims didn't speak to him, as...mine did. I wonder what they might have said, if inspired to speak. I wonder, too...by right of law, can his actions even be considered crimes? Society determines a crime, in the form of the laws the government sets in place. When the government is the body responsible for murder...
Morally it can't be condoned. Legally there may be...leeway. A blind eye to be turned.
That I even contemplate the notion, even on a purely theoretical, intellectual level is abhorrent. Rationalization is a dangerous habit, one I have no intention of falling into. There can be no rationalizing, not with this. Not in the way that Maraich...
He pleads ignorance, makes comparisons to soldiers, to children raised into war. Supposedly the situation he himself was thrust into. He rationalizes a dozen ways, as if each one is an excuse for wanton killing. Murder is inexcusable. I refuse to believe that a moral compass could be so skewed as to prevent a person from understanding such a fundamental truth, no matter their circumstances. Soldiers have a choice. Even children have a choice, though it may be that of death and life.
Responsibility must be taken, and there is no ignorance when it comes to murder. I take responsibility for my actions. I do what's needed to improve the courts, and to find the truth in all cases. I am not forgiven, nor do I expect to be. Why does he think he's entitled?
None of us are forgiven, and I sincerely doubt that we ever will be. How can I be expected to condone...
Wright forgave them, as he forgave me. The man is too lenient. I had almost thought it was me, that I had the dubious privilege of his blind... Apparently, he simply forgives too easily. Is it a liability for a defense attorney, or a strength?
Perhaps a strength for a defense attorney, a liability for a man.
Sigi inspected the apartment after Wright left on the last day. The dog was quite thorough. I was forced to chastise him for rolling on the carpet beside Wright's...by the side of the bed Wright used. At any rate, Sigi was enthusiastic throughout the day. We spent the evening watching several Steel Samurai episodes, and he seemed to enjoy himself. Though...he's developed the odd habit of laying on my feet when I sit down in the living room. I should train him out of it, but...it does no harm. The urge seems to strike him only when there's a movie or television involved, and has some knack for differentiating the long movies or multiple episode marathons from shorter periods of news or individual program episodes. The behavior started... Hm. That evening, actually, is the first instance I can recall. He spent the rest of the evening that way, moving hurriedly whenever I needed to leave, and taking up his position as I returned. And with each neighbor passing through the hall outside he lifted his head and became tense.
Strangeness bleeding into normality. Yet the behavior seems...harmless enough.
I am somewhat looking forward to tomorrow. Not to the event itself, obviously, though I have little doubt of the outcome and the bird's probable defeat is something to anticipate.
No, it's been...far too long since I last visited France. I've almost forgotten the architecture, the landscape, the very air... It will be good to visit again. I...always intended to, though my visit would have been much more protracted.
The dreams continue. Those prompted solely by prurient interest were...easier.
Unreality surrounds us. The longer we're here, the more often we find reality peeling back; strangers in settings of normalcy and painfully normal people in strange settings.
The dragon was...a bit much.
Yet it's the human element that weighs the most heavily. The question of Maraich and Webb's respective crimes is always present, lately. Distracting, frustrating. Their different approaches should make an answer easier, should... They don't. Nothing does.
Webb...struggles. That is clear. He knows what he has done. He accepts it, though the amnesia allows him a convenient curtain to hide behind; he is no coward. He tries to make amends...and knows he can't. At least, it seems that he knows, sometimes. Though the methods of murder were different, life has taught us many of the same lessons, I think. Yet there's a hope in him, still, a belief that forgiveness might be attainable...and a fear that it is not. Telling him the truth--that the ones forgiveness must come from are no longer able to give it--isn't easy.
His victims didn't speak to him, as...mine did. I wonder what they might have said, if inspired to speak. I wonder, too...by right of law, can his actions even be considered crimes? Society determines a crime, in the form of the laws the government sets in place. When the government is the body responsible for murder...
Morally it can't be condoned. Legally there may be...leeway. A blind eye to be turned.
That I even contemplate the notion, even on a purely theoretical, intellectual level is abhorrent. Rationalization is a dangerous habit, one I have no intention of falling into. There can be no rationalizing, not with this. Not in the way that Maraich...
He pleads ignorance, makes comparisons to soldiers, to children raised into war. Supposedly the situation he himself was thrust into. He rationalizes a dozen ways, as if each one is an excuse for wanton killing. Murder is inexcusable. I refuse to believe that a moral compass could be so skewed as to prevent a person from understanding such a fundamental truth, no matter their circumstances. Soldiers have a choice. Even children have a choice, though it may be that of death and life.
Responsibility must be taken, and there is no ignorance when it comes to murder. I take responsibility for my actions. I do what's needed to improve the courts, and to find the truth in all cases. I am not forgiven, nor do I expect to be. Why does he think he's entitled?
None of us are forgiven, and I sincerely doubt that we ever will be. How can I be expected to condone...
Wright forgave them, as he forgave me. The man is too lenient. I had almost thought it was me, that I had the dubious privilege of his blind... Apparently, he simply forgives too easily. Is it a liability for a defense attorney, or a strength?
Perhaps a strength for a defense attorney, a liability for a man.
Sigi inspected the apartment after Wright left on the last day. The dog was quite thorough. I was forced to chastise him for rolling on the carpet beside Wright's...by the side of the bed Wright used. At any rate, Sigi was enthusiastic throughout the day. We spent the evening watching several Steel Samurai episodes, and he seemed to enjoy himself. Though...he's developed the odd habit of laying on my feet when I sit down in the living room. I should train him out of it, but...it does no harm. The urge seems to strike him only when there's a movie or television involved, and has some knack for differentiating the long movies or multiple episode marathons from shorter periods of news or individual program episodes. The behavior started... Hm. That evening, actually, is the first instance I can recall. He spent the rest of the evening that way, moving hurriedly whenever I needed to leave, and taking up his position as I returned. And with each neighbor passing through the hall outside he lifted his head and became tense.
Strangeness bleeding into normality. Yet the behavior seems...harmless enough.
I am somewhat looking forward to tomorrow. Not to the event itself, obviously, though I have little doubt of the outcome and the bird's probable defeat is something to anticipate.
No, it's been...far too long since I last visited France. I've almost forgotten the architecture, the landscape, the very air... It will be good to visit again. I...always intended to, though my visit would have been much more protracted.
The dreams continue. Those prompted solely by prurient interest were...easier.