Sunday, 10 April 2005

That old Ferengi legal tradition

Monday’s Telegraph carries a report that the Saddam loyalists in the Iraqi insurgency may be willing to give up their fight in exchange for Saddam not getting the death penalty. (þ: memorandum)

Meanwhile, the real Olympic bomber, Eric Rudolph (not to be confused with Richard Jewell), avoided the death penalty for his mid-90s bombing spree in Alabama and Georgia this week by revealing information, including the location of weapons caches, to federal authorities.

Of course, if monsters like Saddam and Rudolph aren’t going to get the death penalty (even if they deserve it—an argument that could easily be made for both men), I’m not at all convinced that anyone else should get it—even putting my philosophical problem with the death penalty aside.


It’s occurred to me recently that there seem to be basically two different types of people: the sychronous and the asynchronous. Synchronous people like to have conversations; they want to deal with things “in the present,” then move onto other things. Asynchronous folks, on the other hand, want to correspond and have some time to think things over; at the extreme, they won’t use the telephone even for simple matters due to the risk of bothering someone when they’re otherwise disposed.

Then again, maybe these are just manifestations of the broader traits of extroversion and introversion; I suspect most introverts (like me) prefer email to phone calls and IMs, while most of the extroverts I know aren’t much for email—they might read it, but good luck getting a response amounting to more than one sentence. Of course, these days you can’t really be just one or the other—although I do long for a return of the days of the handwritten letter sometimes.

Back in the high life again

Well, I made it back safe and sound from Chicago, despite initially forgetting (1) checkout was at 11 am instead of noon and (2) my flight was at 1:10 pm instead of 1:40 pm when I decided to sleep in this morning—I figured if I was spending $164 a night for a bed (and surprisingly little else, beyond gratis high-speed internet that was only free because of my newfound Silver HHonors status), it had better be used as much as possible.

The flights were uneventful—I dozed through much of the flight from O’Hare to Atlanta, and managed to read all of Lewis Black’s book Nothing’s Sacred during the rest of the trip, since I felt unmotivated to continue with Empires of Light for now. Despite the storms the day I left, everything was just fine at home.