Punishment For Cheating Quotes

Tell a devout Christian that his wife is cheating on him, or that frozen yogurt can make a man invisible, and he is likely to require as much evidence as anyone else, and to be persuaded only to the extent that you give it. Tell him that the book he keeps by his bed was written by an invisible deity who will punish him with fire for eternity if he fails to accept its every incredible claim about the universe, and he seems to require no evidence what so ever.

If the world were full of the self-seeking individuals found in economics textbooks, it would grind to a halt because we would be spending most of our time cheating, trying to catch the cheaters, and punishing the caught. The world works as it does only because people are not the totally self seeking agents that free-market economics believes them to be. We need to design an economic system that, while acknowledging that people are often selfish, exploits other human motives to the full and gets the best out of people. The likelihood is that, if we assume the worst about people, we will get the worst out of them.

People, in general, tend to project onto others their own state of mind. Well-meaning people inevitably assume other people are well meaning. People who cheat assume everyone cheats. People who deceive assume everybody deceives. Confessions of a Whistle-Blower: Lessons Anna C. Salter. Ethics & Behavior, Volume 8, Issue 2 June 1998

There’s no better way for a woman to punish a man than to make him sleep away from her.

Your treason shall be your poison!

Because bread was so important, the laws governing its purity were strict and the punishment severe. A baker who cheated his customers could be fined £10 per loaf sold, or made to do a month's hard labor in prison. For a time, transportation to Australia was seriously considered for malfeasant bakers. This was a matter of real concern for bakers because every loaf of bread loses weight in baking through evaporation, so it is easy to blunder accidentally. For that reason, bakers sometimes provided a little extra- the famous baker's dozen.

We men really, really, really like sex. We like sex so much, many of us are willing to risk getting in serious trouble to get it. That's why laws against rape haven't stopped rape, and why laws against prostitution haven't stopped prostitution, and why men who cheat on their wives would continue to cheat even if it was illegal, and why gay men continue to be gay even in fundamentalist religious countries like Saudi Arabia, where homosexuality is punishable by death.

The world has far too much morality, at least in the sense of activity of people's moral instincts. If you look, and this become clear to me as I tried to identify the causes of violence at various scales throughout human history, from police blotters where the biggest motive for homicide is not just amoral predacious: a smuggler killing someone to steal his Rolex, the biggest categories of motives for homicide are moralistic in the eyes of the perpetrator, of the murderer, is capital punishment: killing someone who deserve to die because: whether is a spouse who's unfaithful or someone who distim him in an argument over a parking space or cheated him in a deal. That's why people kill each other: for moral reasons. That is true as large scales as well.If you'll look up at the largest episodes of bloodletting in human history most of them would have moralistic motives: the nazi Holocaust, Pol Pot, Stalin, the Gulag, Mao, the European war of religions, the Crusades, all of them were killing people for, not because they wanted to accumulate vast amounts of money, or huge harems of women, but because they thought they were acting out of a moral cause.

This is how to play with personal integrity in a tournament’s early rounds, when there is no umpire. Any ball that lands on your side and is too close to call: call it fair. Here is how to be invulnerable to gamesmanship. To keep your attention’s aperture tight. Here is how to teach yourself, when an opponent maybe cheats on the line-calls, to remind yourself that what goes around comes around. That a poor sport’s punishment is always self-inflicted. Try to learn to let what is unfair teach you.

Meanwhile, instead of restraining negative behavior, rewards and punishments can often set it loose—and give rise to cheating, addiction, and dangerously myopic thinking.

Fate punishes those who try to cheat it.

Look, back in the old days, ravens used to be gentle and white, like doves, okay? But they were terrible gossips. One time I was dating this girl, Koronis. The ravens found out she was cheating on me, and they told me about it. I was so angry, I got Artemis to kill Koronis for me. Then I punished the ravens for being tattletales by turning them black.” Reyna stared at me like she was contemplating another kick to my nose. “That story is messed up on so many levels.” “Just wrong,” Meg agreed. “You had your sister kill a girl who was cheating on you?” “Well, I—” “Then you punished the birds that told you about it,” Reyna added, “by turning them black, as if black was bad and white was good?” “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound right,” I protested. “It’s just what happened when my curse scorched them. It also made them nasty-tempered flesh-eaters.” “Oh, that’s much better,” Reyna snarled. “If we let the birds eat you,” Meg asked, “will they leave Reyna and me alone?” “I—What?” I worried that Meg might not be kidding. Her facial expression did not say kidding. It said serious about the birds eating you. “Listen, I was angry! Yes, I took it out on the birds, but after a few centuries I cooled down. I apologized. By then, they kind of liked being nasty-tempered flesh-eaters. As for Koronis—I mean, at least I saved the child she was pregnant with when Artemis killed her. He became Asclepius, god of medicine!” “Your girlfriend was pregnant when you had her killed?” Reyna launched another kick at my face. I managed to dodge it, since I’d had a lot of practice cowering, but it hurt to know that this time she hadn’t been aiming at an incoming raven. Oh, no. She wanted to knock my teeth in. “You suck,” Meg agreed.

It is a wonderful quirk of our species that the incentives of social life don’t reward strictly ruthless behavior. Leaders who are too domineering are often penalized. Rampant lying and cheating are often caught and punished. Freeloaders frequently get the boot. At the same time, people are often positively rewarded—with friendship, social status, a better reputation—for their service to others. As if our oversized brains and hairless skin didn’t make us an uncanny enough species, our genes long ago decided that, in the relentless competition to survive and reproduce, their best strategy was to build ethical brains.

The strangest thing about becoming an atheist was how little things changed. With no divine rules or threat of eternal punishment hanging over my head, I still somehow managed to not lie, cheat, steal, or kill anybody. Although to be honest, I was a little confused as to why we weren't lying, cheating, or stealing. Not killing people still made sense, but why, for example, should we not steal some peanut butter crackers from the unmanned mini-mart in this Holiday Inn?

Pendennis, sir," he said, "your idleness is incorrigible and your stupidity beyond example. You are a disgrace to your school, and to your family, and I have no doubt will prove so in after-life to your country. If that vice, sir, which is described to us as the root of all evil, be really what moralists have represented (and I have no doubt of the correctness of their opinion), for what a prodigious quantity of future crime and wickedness are you, unhappy boy, laying the seed! Miserable trifler! A boy who construes de and, instead of de but, at sixteen years of age is guilty not merely of folly, and ignorance, and dulness inconceivable, but of crime, of deadly crime, of filial ingratitude, which I tremble to contemplate. A boy, sir, who does not learn his Greek play cheats the parent who spends money for his education. A boy who cheats his parent is not very far from robbing or forging upon his neighbour. A man who forges on his neighbour pays the penalty of his crime at the gallows. And it is not such a one that I pity (for he will be deservedly cut off), but his maddened and heart-broken parents, who are driven to a premature grave by his crimes, or, if they live, drag on a wretched and dishonoured old age. Go on, sir, and I warn you that the very next mistake that you make shall subject you to the punishment of the rod. Who's that laughing? What ill-conditioned boy is there that dares to laugh?" shouted the Doctor.

He’d been the one to lie and cheat in their relationship. So why was he punishing her? Why-- Who cared why, she told herself. She’d just spent a week on a cattle drive. She’d saved fifty steers from drowning. She’d crossed a raging river and had lived to tell the tale. Jeff was beneath her notice.

Religionists from pulpits and evangelical TV stations announced that this [AIDS] was all God’s punishment for the perverted vice of homosexuality, quite failing to explain why this vengeful deity had no interest in visiting plagues and agonized death upon child rapists, torturers, murderers, those who beat up old women for their pension money (or indeed those cheating, thieving, adulterous and hypocritical clerics and preachers who pop up on the news from time to time weeping their repentance), reserving this uniquely foul pestilence only for men who choose to go to bed with each other and addicts careless in the use of their syringes. What a strange divinity. Later he was to take his pleasure, as he still does, on horrifying numbers of women and very young girls raped in sub-Saharan Africa while transmitting his avenging wrath on the unborn children in their wombs. I should be interested to hear from the religious zealots why he is doing this and what kind of a kick he gets out of it.

That’s why counterfeiting money has always been considered a much more serious crime than other acts of deception. Counterfeiting is not just cheating – it’s a breach of sovereignty, an act of subversion against the power, privileges and person of the king. The legal term is lese-majesty (violating majesty), and was typically punished by torture and death.

Despite the name, tit for tat isn’t about playground squabbling. It’s a strategy that encourages cooperation but punishes exploitation. The mathematical version involves cooperating at first, and then simply copying the previous move of your opponent. They stay cooperative, you stay cooperative. They cheat and defect on you, you cheat and defect on them. They go back to being nice, you go back to being nice.

I need a lawyer. I showed up every day this semester, sat my butt in every class, did some homework, and didn't cheat on tests. I still get slammed in MISS. There is no way they can punish me for not speaking. It isn't fair. What do they know about me? What do they know about the inside of my head? Flashes of lightning, children crying. Caught in an avalanche, pinned by worry, squirming under the weight of doubt, guilt. Fear.

Darya Alexandrovna, in a dressing jacket, and with her now scanty, once luxuriant and beautiful hair fastened up with hairpins on the nape of her neck, with a sunken, thin face and large, startled eyes, which looked prominent from the thinness of her face, was standing among a litter of all sorts of things scattered all over the room, before an open bureau, from which she was taking something. Hearing her husband's steps, she stopped, looking towards the door, and trying assiduously to give her features a severe and contemptuous expression. She felt she was afraid of him, and afraid of the coming interview. She was just attempting to do what she had attempted to do ten times already in these last three days—to sort out the children's things and her own, so as to take them to her mother's—and again she could not bring herself to do this; but now again, as each time before, she kept saying to herself, "that things cannot go on like this, that she must take some step" to punish him, put him to shame, avenge on him some little part at least of the suffering he had caused her. She still continued to tell herself that she should leave him, but she was conscious that this was impossible; it was impossible because she could not get out of the habit of regarding him as her husband and loving him. Besides this, she realized that if even here in her own house she could hardly manage to look after her five children properly, they would be still worse off where she was going with them all. As it was, even in the course of these three days, the youngest was unwell from being given unwholesome soup, and the others had almost gone without their dinner the day before. She was conscious that it was impossible to go away; but, cheating herself, she went on all the same sorting out her things and pretending she was going.

Tell a devout Christian that his wife is cheating on him, or that frozen yogurt can make a man invisible, and he is likely to require as much evidence as anyone else, and to be persuaded only to the extent that you give it. Tell him that the book he keeps by his bed was written by an invisible deity who will punish him with fire for eternity if he fails to accept its every incredible claim about the universe, and he seems to require no evidence whatsoever.

The shape and size of the mark varied tremendously throughout history, but the message was always the same: ‘I, the Great King So-And-So, give you my personal word that this metal disc contains exactly 0.2 ounces of gold. If anyone dares counterfeit this coin, it means he is fabricating my own signature, which would be a blot on my reputation. I will punish such a crime with the utmost severity.’ That’s why counterfeiting money has always been considered a much more serious crime than other acts of deception. Counterfeiting is not just cheating – it’s a breach of sovereignty, an act of subversion against the power, privileges and person of the king. The legal term is lese-majesty (violating majesty), and was typically punished by torture and death. As long as people trusted the power and integrity of the king, they trusted his coins. Total strangers could easily agree on the worth of a Roman denarius coin, because they trusted the power and integrity of the Roman emperor, whose name and picture adorned it.

It always helps to have the referees on your side. Modern states possess various agencies with the authority to investigate and punish wrongdoing by both public officials and private citizens. These include the judicial system, law enforcement bodies, and intelligence, tax, and regulatory agencies. In democracies, such institutions are designed to serve as neutral arbiters. For would-be authoritarians, therefore, judicial and law enforcement agencies pose both a challenge and an opportunity. If they remain independent, they might expose and punish government abuse. It is a referee’s job, after all, to prevent cheating. But if these agencies are controlled by loyalists, they could serve a would-be dictator’s aims, shielding the government from investigation and criminal prosecutions that could lead to its removal from power. The president may break the law, threaten citizens’ rights, and even violate the constitution without having to worry that such abuse will be investigated or censured. With the courts packed and law enforcement authorities brought to heel, governments can act with impunity.

Sisyphus cheated death,” Nico explained. “First he chained up Thanatos, the reaper of souls, so no one could die. Then when Thanatos got free and was about to kill him, Sisyphus told his wife to do incorrect funeral rites so he wouldn’t rest in peace. Sisy here—May I call you Sisy?” “No!” “Sisy tricked Persephone into letting him go back to the world to haunt his wife. And he didn’t come back.” The old man cackled. “I stayed alive another thirty years before they finally tracked me down!” Thalia was halfway up the hill now. She gritted her teeth, pushing the boulder with her back. Her expression said Hurry up! “So that was your punishment,” I said to Sisyphus. “Rolling a boulder up a hill forever. Was it worth it?” “A temporary setback!” Sisyphus cried. “I’ll bust out of here soon, and when I do, they’ll all be sorry!” “How would you get out of the Underworld?” Nico asked. “It’s locked down, you know.” Sisyphus grinned wickedly. “That’s what the other one asked.” My stomach tightened. “Someone else asked your advice?” “An angry young man,” Sisyphus recalled. “Not very polite. Held a sword to my throat. Didn’t offer to roll my boulder at all.” “What did you tell him?” Nico said. “Who was he?” Sisyphus massaged his shoulders. He glanced up at Thalia, who was almost to the top of the hill. Her face was bright red and drenched in sweat. “Oh . . . it’s hard to say,” Sisyphus said. “Never seen him before. He carried a long package all wrapped up in black cloth. Skis, maybe? A shovel? Maybe if you wait here, I could go look for him. . . .” “What did you tell him?” I demanded. “Can’t remember.” Nico drew his sword. The Stygian iron was so cold it steamed in the hot dry air of Punishment. “Try harder.” The old man winced. “What kind of person carries a sword like that?” “A son of Hades,” Nico said. “Now answer me!” The color drained from Sisyphus’s face. “I told him to talk to Melinoe! She always has a way out!” Nico lowered his sword. I could tell the name Melinoe bothered him. “Are you crazy?” he said. “That’s suicide!” The old man shrugged. “I’ve cheated death before. I could do it again.” “What did this demigod look like?” “Um . . . he had a nose,” Sisyphus said. “A mouth. And one eye and—” “One eye?” I interrupted. “Did he have an eye patch?” “Oh . . . maybe,” Sisyphus said. “He had hair on his head. And—” He gasped and looked over my shoulder. “There he is!” We fell for it. As soon as we turned, Sisyphus took off down the hill. “I’m free! I’m free! I’m—ACK!” Ten feet from the hill, he hit the end of his invisible leash and fell on his back. Nico and I grabbed his arms and hauled him up the hill. “Curse you!” He let loose with bad words in Ancient Greek, Latin, English, French, and several other languages I didn’t recognize. “I’ll never help you! Go to Hades!” “Already there,” Nico muttered. “Incoming!” Thalia shouted. I looked up and might have used a few cuss words myself. The boulder was bouncing straight toward us. Nico jumped one way. I jumped the other. Sisyphus yelled, “NOOOOOOO!” as the thing plowed into him. Somehow he braced himself and stopped it before it could run him over. I guess he’d had a lot of practice. “Take it again!” he wailed. “Please. I can’t hold it.” “Not again,” Thalia gasped. “You’re on your own.” He treated us to a lot more colorful language. It was clear he wasn’t going to help us any further, so we left him to his punishment.

These motives ranged from the mundane (“I was bored”) to the spiritual (“I wanted to get closer to God”), from altruistic (“I wanted my man to feel good about himself”) to vengeful (“I wanted to punish my husband for cheating on me”). Some women have sex to feel powerful, others to debase themselves. Some want to impress their friends; others want to harm their enemies (“I wanted to break up a rival’s relationship by having sex with her boyfriend”). Some express romantic love (“I wanted to become one with another person”); others express disturbing hate (“I wanted to give someone else a sexually transmitted disease”). But none of these reasons conveyed the “why” that hid behind each motive.

My mother was a bruja, and I grew up watching her clients come for all sorts of spells—to guarantee healthy babies, to bless a new house, to keep a son from joining the armed forces. When she lit a red candle to Guadalupe and recited an Ave, Doña Tarano’s liver tumor miraculously shrank. When she prayed to Saint Catalina de Alejandría, a family on the brink of debt came into a windfall. Of course, brujas are also specialists in justice when someone’s wronged you. A curse from a bruja might punish a cheating husband, or unleash a rash on someone spreading gossip. People at the receiving end of a bruja’s curse understand that they have done something to deserve it; a hex only works on the guilty. My mother

When people having their brain scanned watched the hand of another person being mildly shocked, the pain areas in their own brain lit up, showing that they shared the other’s pain. This is typical of empathy. But it happened only if the partner was someone likable, with whom the subject had played a friendly game before the scanning session. On the other hand, if the partner had played unfairly against them before the session, the subjects felt cheated, and seeing the other in pain had less of an effect. The door to empathy had shut. For the women, it was still partially open—they still showed mild empathy. But for the men it closed completely—in fact, seeing the unfair player getting shocked activated the pleasure centers in men’s brains. They had moved from empathy to justice and welcomed the punishment of the other.

We saw that we’d been given a law to live by, a moral law, they called it, which punished those who observed it—for observing it. The more you tried to live up to it, the more you suffered; the more you cheated it, the bigger reward you got. Your honesty was like a tool left at the mercy of the next man’s dishonesty. The honest ones paid, the dishonest collected. The honest lost, the dishonest won. How long could men stay good under this sort of a law of goodness? We were a pretty decent bunch of fellows when we started. There weren’t many chiselers among us. We knew our jobs and we were proud of it and we worked for the best factory in the country, where old man Starnes hired nothing but the pick of the country’s labor. Within one year under the new plan, there wasn’t an honest man left among us. That was the evil, the sort of hell-horror evil that preachers used to scare you with, but you never thought to see alive. Not that the plan encouraged a few bastards, but that it turned decent people into bastards, and there was nothing else that it could do—and it was called a moral ideal!

The family that had once welcomed him and been his as well, especially after his father deteriorated, took a step back. And he found he was instantly isolated, separated by their loyalty to Julia. No one ever said anything directly; no acknowledgement was ever made of how she was found. They were grieving the loss of their sister, their child. He was alone in grieving the loss of his marriage as well. The gap widened. An unspoken hostility grew between them, built from the unsaid words; a kind of defensiveness on both sides, which gradually hardened into a wall. Had they believed he had something to do with her infidelity? That he’d driven her to it through some neglect or unfaithfulness of his own? Had she confided in them about her lack of marital satisfaction? And so it spread outwards like a kind of web; extending to embrace her friends – friends he’d thought of as belonging to him too until they struggled to make eye contact with him at the funeral or no longer bothered to ring. He hadn’t been the one who’d cheated. But he was the one who felt punished for the affair. The one who was left. ‘It’s time you moved on,’ people began to say, as little as six months later. ‘You need to let go of that now.’ Yes, he needed to let go of it, accept it, and endure the increasing indifference of those he thought had loved him. He needed to grow up, get on. Life wasn’t fair. Who ever said life was fair? So she cheated. Time to get a girlfriend; buy a house…start again. Yet

The reformers believe that scores will go up if it is easy to fire teachers and if unions are weakened. But is this true? No. The only test scores that can be used comparatively are those of the National Assessment of Educational Progress, because it is a no-stakes test. No one knows who will take it, no one knows what will be on the test, no student takes the full test, and the results are not reported for individuals or for schools. There is no way to prepare for NAEP, so there is no test prep. There are no rewards or punishments attached to it, so there is no reason to cheat, to teach to the test, or to game the system. So, let’s examine the issues at hand using NAEP scores as a measure. The states that consistently have the highest test scores are Massachusetts, New Jersey, and Connecticut. Consistently ranking at the bottom are states in the South and the District of Columbia. The highest-ranking states have strong teachers’ unions and until recently had strong tenure protections for teachers. The lowest-ranking states do not have strong teachers’ unions, and their teachers have few or no job protections. There seems to be no correlation between having a strong union and having low test scores; if anything, it appears that the states with the strongest unions have the highest test scores. The lowest-performing states have one thing in common, and that is high poverty. The District of Columbia has a strong union and high poverty; it also has intense racial isolation in its schools. It has very low test scores. Most of the cities that rank at the very bottom on NAEP have teachers’ unions, and they have two things in common: high poverty and racial isolation.

If you want to judge a person perfectly well, let that person judge herself. If a woman calls other women sluts because they sleep with many men, but this woman does or did the same, she has perfectly labeled herself. If a a business man cheats on others, but says cheaters deserve nothing, he has labeled himself perfectly well too. And the religious one that complains of the lack of insight on others, but cannot confront another individual more open than him, has judged himself too above his words. And experience will show you that there is nothing to gain from people that you have judged below their level of self-judgement. As a a matter of fact, they will likely blame you for trying to erase their self-judgement away and attempt to make them righteous. It has come to my awareness that most people want to be punished for their ignorance, and will push away anyone trying to erase such life sentence from them.

My Mistake - i trusted My fault - i believed My Bad - i open my heart My Muff - i was honest My Lapse - i was caring Good People of today's world do not have all that things.So if someone have .surly deserve Punishment ,Betrayal , cheating and wounds on Heart and Soul

The dark shadow of crime spreads right and left, from the Penitentiary and the Workhouse, over all the institutions, the Asylum, the Alms-House and Charity Hospital; so that, in the minds of the people at large, all suffer alike from an evil repute.” Being poor had become a character trait that needed “correction,” like the impulse to steal or cheat. The Christian impulse to help the needy had been tamped down and replaced with an inclination to punish them.

Personal force fields or other unnatural protection is banned from competition,” Gia continued. “That’s grounds for more than disqualification. That’s considered a high crime, punishable by death.” “Death?” I said. “For what?” “Cheating!” Gia hissed. “I hate cheaters almost as much as I hate kale.

But I learned through those years that you choose your own happiness, and you have to put the past behind you. It’s over with, and all it does is eat you up if you let it.” “Your husband was a jerk. I admire you for saying you put it behind you. Is that true?” Tiffany asked, unsure how anyone could put the cheating of their husband and the breakup with their family behind them with no bitterness. “It is. Because if I don’t put that behind me, if I let that bother me, I’m not punishing him. I’m punishing myself. He doesn’t give a flip whether I’m still angry at him or not. But my anger eats me. That’s why forgiveness is so important.” Maybe no one ever explained it to her quite like that before, or maybe she just had refused to listen. But it made sense. Forgiving someone was less about letting them get away with it and more about freeing herself to not be bitter and angry and not allow those emotions to destroy her health and her peace of mind. “My forgiveness needs to be pointed more directly at myself than anyone around me. I made a lot of stupid mistakes that hurt myself.” Tiffany

Fellas, don’t put yourself in a position where you have to cheat. That’s the worst thing you can do as a Duke basketball player. If it happens, you’re going to be punished severely by the school—and I’ll support that punishment, whatever it is. But we should never get to that point. If you just say to me, ‘I’m stuck or I’m in trouble,’ then we’ll work on it together. We’ll be there to help you. But you also have to learn to help yourself.

I think criminals - most criminals - do what they do so that they may cause pain to someone. Also, so that they may be caught and punished. To cause pain and to feel pain. That is why they lie, cheat, steal, and kill.

THE STRANGEST THING ABOUT BECOMING AN ATHEIST was how little things changed. With no divine rules or threat of eternal punishment hanging over my head, I still somehow managed to not lie, cheat, steal, or kill anybody.

That was the challenge now: to figure out whether God was still with him in the silence or whether He had vanished from his life for good. Ferguson didn’t have the heart to commit a knowing act of cruelty, he couldn’t bring himself to lie or cheat or steal, he had no inclination to hurt or offend his mother, but within the narrow scope of misdeeds he was capable of, he understood that the only way to answer the question was to break his end of the bargain as often as he could, to defy the injunction to follow the holy commandments and then wait for God to do something bad to him, something nasty and personal that would serve as a clear sign of intended retribution—a broken arm, an attack of boils on his face, a rabid dog biting off a chunk of his leg. If God failed to punish him, that would prove He had indeed disappeared when the voice stopped talking, and since God was supposedly everywhere, in every tree and blade of grass, in every gust of wind and human feeling, it made no sense that He could disappear from one place and still be everywhere else. He necessarily had to be with Ferguson because He was in all places at the same time, and if He was absent from the place where Ferguson happened to be, that could only mean that He was in no place and had never been in any place at all, that He in fact had never existed and the voice Ferguson had taken for the voice of God had been none other than his own voice speaking to him in an inner conversation with himself.

Remy had moved to England to spend his time avoiding having his head removed by the rest of his countrymen, while drinking himself into a steady oblivion. Unfortunately, he’d met a lovely young lady whom he proceeded to cheat on. She caught him and punished him. Witches have funny ideas when it comes to punishment. They tend to be creative. Her coven decided that if Remy was going to behave like an animal, they’d turn him into one. The idea was, according to Remy, they were going to turn him into a red fox, hand him over to a huntsman so he could be torn apart by their hounds at some point in the near future. The spell didn’t exactly work. The twelve members of the coven were using magic well beyond their capabilities and it ended up killing all of them and feeding their souls into Remy. Remy kept his intellect, his human nature and personality, while adding the life force of twelve young women to his newly changed body. Remy was now part man, part red fox. He was about three and a half feet tall, and covered in the fur of a red fox, from his fox muzzle to the tip of his bushy tail. He walked upright on legs that were more human in shape than animal, and had fingers, although each of them was tipped with a sharp claw. And he could talk, which allowed him to express his pissed-off-with-the-world nature on a regular basis.

Generally, the shows and skits would be comprised of the same stereotypical characters (Painter, 2006): • The stupid, lazy hayseed. • The cheating chicken-stealing thief and/or the grinning, watermelon-eating dullard. • The sharp-dressing city slicker. • The pleasant, care-taking mammy. The stereotypes perpetuated by minstrel shows made African Americans appear as useless figures worthy of nothing but distain, punishment, restriction, humiliation, and scorn. ‘Jim Crow’ changed from a smiling, laughing onstage figure to a system of severely limiting laws and rules governing African Americans well into the twentieth century. Blacks were made

We reward the modern version of virtue and punish the lack of it. We reward responsibility, effort, hard work, neatness, and homework completion. We penalize tardiness, sloppiness, late work, and cheating. For this noble goal of instilling morality in students, grades have been a most convenient tool.

still have the same personality I was born with. I am often impatient and cranky. And my first response to almost everything is “fuck you.” I don’t often stay there, but I almost always start there. I’m still me. Yet the fact that I manage to now move from “fuck you” to something less hostile, and the fact that I am often able to make that move quickly, well, once again, all of it makes me believe in God. And every time, it feels like repentance. Not the repentance of red-faced street-corner preachers waving REPENT! signs. No, that kind of repentance always sounded to me like Stop being bad—start being good or God is going to be an angry punishing bastard to you. This feels like more of a human threat than anything else. It never works on me. Who wants their spiritual arm twisted until they cry uncle? It’s bullying. I mean, fear and threat can create change in behavior. No question about it. But it doesn’t really change my thinking. Threats don’t change my heart and they don’t move me from fuck you to something less assholey in short order. Repentance in Greek means something much closer to “thinking differently afterward” than it does “changing your cheating ways.

It wasn’t the rules or the potential punishment that kept people honest. It was being reminded of core values embedded from our earliest days: Don’t steal. Don’t cheat. Don’t lie. We are in dire need of constant reminders, whether from others or from ourselves, of the universal axiom: Honesty is the best policy. AN HONEST MAN SPEAKS THE TRUTH, THOUGH IT MAY GIVE OFFENSE; A VAIN MAN, IN ORDER THAT IT MAY. —WILLIAM HAZLITT KNOWING OTHERS IS WISDOM. KNOWING YOURSELF IS ENLIGHTENMENT. —LAO-TZU

Almost every major partnership in the natural world is like this. Cheats are always a problem. Betrayal lurks perpetually on the horizon. Couples might work well together but if one partner can get the same benefits without spending as much energy or effort it will do so, unless punished or policed. HG Wells wrote about this in 1930 "every symbiosis is in its degree underlain with hostility and only by proper regulation and often elaborate adjustment can the state of mutual benefits be maintained". Even human affairs the Partnerships for Mutual benefit are not so easily kept up in spite of me being endowed with intelligence and so being able to grasp the meaning of such a relation.

One of the most difficult things to deal with when you are dealing with narcissistic people is the level of punishment involved in these relationships. Whether it is physically assaulting you, smearing you to others behind your back, freezing you out in cold silence, calling you names, throwing tantrums when they don't get their way, doing things on purpose to make you angry or jealous, disappearing to worry, upset or scare you, trying to make you feel guilty or otherwise bad, withholding things you want or need, destroying your things, cheating on you, or anything else, there has most likely been a large amount of punitive behavior on the part of the narcissistic person you're dealing with regardless of the type of relationship.

Why should we care so much about a mere £700,000? Let’s be clear on this point: Vote Leave’s scheme was the largest known breach of campaign finance law in British history. But even if it wasn’t, elections, like a 100-meter sprint in the Olympics, are zero-sum games, where the winner takes all. Whoever comes first, even if it’s by just a few votes or milliseconds, wins the whole race: They get to sit in the public office. They get the gold medal. They get to name your Supreme Court justices. They get to take your country out of the European Union. The only difference, of course, is that if you are caught cheating in the Olympics, you get disqualified and lose your medal. There are no discussions of whether the doped athlete “would have won anyway”—the integrity of the sport demands a clean race. But in politics, we do not presume integrity as a necessary prerequisite to our democracy. There are harsher punishments for athletes who cheat in sport than for campaigns that cheat in elections.

You punish yourself when you forgive someone who cheated on you.

Sometimes they heard solitary Folk following them home from school, rustling at the edges of the woods. Hazel waited, but they never bothered her. Faerie morality isn’t human morality. They punish the unmannerly and foolhardy, the braggarts and cheats, not the brave, not tricksters and heroes. Those, they claim for their own.

Who knows, I might just punish you because I want to.” “You can’t do that. That’s cheating.” “When have I ever played fair?

What if I said you deserved to be punished simply for being born?” I gathered my breath. “I’d say I’ve had that thought before.” I was an A+ student. Because of course I was cheating: Don had shown me the right answers years before.

The SMORC tells us that people should cheat more when they stand a chance of getting more money without being caught or punished.

Colin Wilson, Criminal History of Mankind, op. cit.: Wilson presents a theory of the Violent Male, backed up by criminological and historical data from the past 3000 years, and some current anthropological data on our earlier ancestors. He claims the Violent Male basically acts like Van Vogt's Right Man: he can never admit he might be wrong about anything. His ego definition, as it were, demands that he is always Right, nearly everybody else is always Wrong, and he must "punish" them for their Wrongness. He despises the "softness" of "emotions" and thinks most people are fools. As such, he sounds like the Authoritarian Personality described by such psychologists as Fromm and Adorno; what makes him Violent is a particular savage intensity of what I have called modeltheism. The Right Man, in addition to the above traits, has a basically paranoid attitude toward people: he thinks they are all rotten; they have all cheated him; they are always cheating; they are sneaks; they are liars; they are, in fact, rotten bastards. He is going to be the rottenest bastard of all to get back at them.

functional logic can be applied to other moral emotions. Anger toward cheaters likely evolved to punish those who violate social contracts. Anger toward cheaters motivates revenge, which in turn deters others from cheating in the future. And revenge might be an emotion that is sweetly savored. In an interesting series of studies, participants rated a variety of different endings to Hollywood film clips that portrayed a serious injustice (Haidt & Sabini, 2000). Participants were displeased by endings in which the victim of an injustice accepted the loss, forgave the transgressor, and found growth and fulfillment. They were most satisfied by endings in which the perpetrator of the injustice suffered greatly, knew that the suffering was retribution for the transgression, and experienced public humiliation in the process. In short, the moral outrage that people experience at cheating and violations of social contracts evolved to serve a policing function, holding others to their commitments and obligations.

It was, after all, Voltaire who was reputed to be the source of the famous quip that if God had not existed it would have been necessary to invent him, if only because, so long as his wife, his tailor, his lawyer, and his servants could be persuaded to believe in the threat of punishment in an afterlife, “I shall be cheated and robbed and cuckolded less often.”49

all human groups frown on, make pronouncements against, and punish the following: murder, undue use of authority, cheating that harms group cooperation, major lying, theft, and socially disruptive sexual behavior. These basic rules of conduct appear to be human universals.

His father, Jose Ramirez, was an extremely serious man who rarely smiled. He had a perpetually stern Mexican face with dark, piercing eyes and tight, firm lips—traits he had inherited from his father, Inacia, a large, brutal man with a bad temper who often beat his kids whether they misbehaved or not. Like the land around Camargo, he was mean and unforgiving. Jose Ramirez also believed in corporal punishment. If any of his four boys and four girls didn’t do what was expected of them, he was quick to beat them. Like his father, he had a bad temper, and often his beatings went on longer than they should have. However, in Mexico, it was a normal thing for a father to beat his children. It was the way things were done. It was commonly felt it taught the child respect and discipline and to accept the consequences of their actions. Often, though, the line separating punishment and correction was crossed, and Julian Tapia was beaten too hard, too long, too often—by both his father and his grandfather. It was his grandfather, Inacia, who beat Julian the most. If Julian did a particularly bad thing—like sleep late when there was work—his grandfather would tie him to a tree and lay into him with rope. The beatings made Julian quiet and withdrawn, and his face often seemed to be in an unhappy shadow. Because he was the oldest son, Julian received the most beatings. He took them stoically, not crying or begging for them to stop. He would just wait until his father’s and grandfather’s irrational rages were spent. It was not an easy life for Jose Ramirez. He had lost his wife at an early age. He felt cheated; it angered him deep inside, and he often vented his anger on his eight children.

Dunc shudders again. "Even for Lissa, that's completely over the top," he says. "Really? Tell me, Dunc, what is the proportionate response to in- fidelity?" Georgie asks with faux sweetness. "Oh, come on-" Dunc starts. "A slap in the face? Or is that just for kissing? What about a blow job, is that two slaps?

So how were these people judged? How will we be judged? We get up every morning thinking that if we're good, we'll make it to heaven, and if we're bad, we'll have trouble. But then we see a six-year-old girl die of cancer. We see raging waters and mud swallow innocent people in South America. And we see our neighbor, who cheats on his wife or steals from his boss, become wealthy. We see our cousin, the liar, win the lottery. What sense does this make?" A few people shake their heads. I want to know, too. "Got me," Natto says. "Got me. But I'll tell you this. I want to know. I want to find out. And I'll tell you two more things. One is, overall, we have seen a lot of times in life that what comes around goes around, haven't we?" A few people nod. "In the case of Venezuela, there's no good explanation. But we see sinners locked up every day, and brave men rewarded. And last night on the news, they showed heroes, people who saved lives in Venezuela. We saw people working together. Rescue workers. Relief workers. And that is God." He stops pacing. "That is God," he says again. He goes back to pacing. He has a strong gait. "These people do good. And if one of their planes crashed on the way back to whereever they came from? What sense would that make? I don't know. I don't claim to have all the answers. And maybe there are cases where I will never ever understand them. This is something a lot of churches don't want to admit, but I really might never have the answers. And sometimes, this might make me very angry." I like this. "But I said there were two more things I'll tell you. One is that we have seen that what comes around goes around. And here's the second thing. We judge within ourselves. Those people in Venezuela, the dying, if they led a good life, they knew it. They died at peace. They knew that they didn't deserve it, that it was just something that happened. But a guy who's been hurting people, who suddenly feels a rumble and the sky caves in, he's lying there, torn apart, and besides the physical pain, he knows in his heart, or he feels in his heart, that he's being punished. He can't lie there and say, "Please God I don't deserve to die". Because he knows he did wrong, and he has to apologize and make amends. And so in that way, judgement comes upon him. And we all know in our hearts, whether we're to be judged in the afterworld or not, that while we're on this earth, we judge ourselves.

I didn’t even know the King was married,” I admitted. “When did Rapheol die?” Eleanor leaned forward until her face was close to mine. “Less than a month after Ulther’s coronation. He was poisoned by a rival House. It’s a heartbreaking story.” “Someone poisoned the King’s husband?” She nodded. “Just as he received the Crown, Ulther was cheated in a trade agreement. He wanted to prove his strength before his Challenging, so he had their entire House shut down. He seized their property and ordered that they all leave Lumnos, join another House, or become one of the Unhoused Descended that live on the outskirts of the realm.” “All that over a bad business deal?” “It gets worse.” She sighed sadly. “An elder from that House decided she had nothing left to lose, so she infected Rapheol with a rare poison and demanded Ulther reinstate her House in exchange for an antidote. She even insisted on a bonded bargain that he wouldn’t punish her or her House for it later.” “And Ulther wouldn’t do it?” “Oh, he did—but she gave him an antidote, not the antidote. She worded the bargain cleverly, and there was nothing he could do. Rapheol died, and Ulther couldn’t seek revenge without losing his magic.” “That’s terrible,” I gasped. “I can’t believe she got away with it.” “She didn’t. That’s where it gets worse. Her bargain was clever, but not clever enough, because it only bound Ulther and not the rest of House Corbois. The King couldn’t take revenge—but his brothers could.” My eyebrows flew up. “What did they do?” She chewed on her lip and glanced nervously at her uncles. “They took out the entire House.” I spun around to face her. “Took out? As in...?” “As in dead. Every last one. The whole family was wiped out overnight.

And it’s in these moments of insecurity, of deep despair, that we become susceptible to an insidious entitlement: believing that we deserve to cheat a little to get our way, that other people deserve to be punished, that we deserve to take what we want, and sometimes violently.

Across history, human societies have devised numerous ways to show that an individual has been punished for cheating rules. These signals range from scarlett letters, to shaved heads, to amputated fingers.

Are you supposed to lie? No worries . Jupiter accepts these things with good humor. As for gods, it would be beneficial to us should they exist, so let us believe they do. The general principles of morality must be followed: pay your debts, do not cheat, do not kill. Girls, on the other hand, you can deceive with impunity because the gods do it themselves, and there is nothing more just than punishing the wrongdoer with his own medicine.

A German neuroscientist, Tania Singer, who explored this issue discovered yet another intriguing sex difference. When people having their brain scanned watched the hand of another person being mildly shocked, the pain areas in their own brain lit up, showing that they shared the other’s pain. This is typical of empathy. But it happened only if the partner was someone likable, with whom the subject had played a friendly game before the scanning session. On the other hand, if the partner had played unfairly against them before the session, the subjects felt cheated, and seeing the other in pain had less of an effect. The door to empathy had shut. For the women, it was still partially open—they still showed mild empathy. But for the men it closed completely—in fact, seeing the unfair player getting shocked activated the pleasure centers in men’s brains. They had moved from empathy to justice and welcomed the punishment of the other. Their main sentiment was Schadenfreude.40

And it’s in these moments of insecurity, of deep despair, that we become susceptible to an insidious entitlement: believing that we deserve to cheat a little to get our way, that other people deserve to be punished, that we deserve to take what we want,

People who try to cheat others in the name of God will be punished by God.

Unlike Elias, who always connected illness and death with tribulations, just punishment, and guilt, Evan told tales of the dead who had been struck down by fate untimely, who knew they had been cheated of what was due to them and tried to return to life. If you had an eye for them they were to be seen quite often, said Evan. At first glance they seemed to be normal people, but when you looked more closely their faces would blur or flicker slightly at the edges. And they were usually a little shorter than they had been in life, for the experience of death, said Evan, diminishes us, just as a piece of linen shrinks when you first wash it.

But what if God loved so dearly and was so wise, big, and courageous that He gave to His children the greatest gift conceivable: the freedom to make their own choices to learn right from wrong?” Yes! Nice! And with such a gift, all could then live forever and ever and ever, growing and learning and becoming and improving … Right? No. Unfortunately, that’s not how the story goes. Instead, after some unimaginably brief period, assumed by most to be a single human lifetime, no matter who your parents were or were not, no matter where you were born, when you were born, and no matter how short your life was, upon its termination you could expect that the whole freedom thing was just a test and then would follow judgment and sentencing. Wait, if God truly loved “so dearly” and was truly that magnanimous in handing out the greatest gift, freedom, wouldn’t the testing-judging thing mean that somewhere along the way the offer had terminated? How great is your freedom if, hypothetically, during a brutal life on earth—born during a famine, abandoned, sexually abused—you understandably spent the remainder of your life simmering in hatred and doing wicked things yourself, before your murder at age 32? You’d then be locked in hell for eternity? Or what if, after a delightful life on earth with loving parents in a modern society, you once cheated on your income taxes and lied to get your child into Harvard, costing an honest child with honest parents that spot? Red-hot pokers forever? Or what if you were the first person in the history of people to never make a mistake or do an unkind thing toward others, yet you accepted no prophet as your savior and rejected all religions? Ashes for lunch, again? It’s a bit counterproductive, contradictory, and arbitrary to give folks freedom to learn and then not only suddenly deny it, but exact a stern punishment without end. What if, hypothetically, it took most people a few times “at bat,” needing several decades or lifetimes, before they acquired a sense of fairness and justice? Too bad?

And it’s in these moments of insecurity, of deep despair, that we become susceptible to an insidious entitlement: believing that we deserve to cheat a little to get our way, that other people deserve to be punished, that we deserve to take what we want, and sometimes violently. It’s the backwards law again: the more you try to be certain about something, the more uncertain and insecure you will feel. But the converse is true as well: the more you embrace being uncertain and not knowing, the more comfortable you will feel in knowing what you don’t know. Uncertainty removes our judgments of others; it preempts the unnecessary stereotyping and biases that we otherwise feel when we see somebody on TV, in the office, or on the street. Uncertainty also relieves us of our judgment of ourselves. We don’t know if we’re lovable or not; we don’t know how attractive we are; we don’t know how successful we could potentially become. The only way to achieve these things is to remain uncertain of them and be open to finding them out through experience.

Duryodhana came to the village in search of the Pandavas in exile. Thirsty, he asked an old woman for water. Impulsively, she gave him the toddy she was carrying. The parched Prince drank it with relish. It was only then that the woman noticed he was a Kshatriya warrior and he could lose his caste by drinking toddy served by an Untouchable Kurathi woman like herself. Horrified by what she had done, she was certain the Kshatriya Prince would punish her with death if she told him the truth. However, not wishing to cheat someone who had trusted her, she confessed her ‘crime’, risking her life. She waited for certain punishment, but was astonished by Duryodhana’s reaction. “Mother,” he said, “there is no caste for hunger and thirst. Blessed are you for putting the interests of a thirsty man before your own safety.

Infidelity happens in good marriages, in bad marriages, and even when adultery is punishable by death. It happens in open relationships where extramarital sex is carefully negotiated beforehand. And the freedom to leave or divorce has not made cheating obsolete.