Whenever the subject of the death penalty came up, my father would thunder:
"There is no such thing as equal justice!"
Then he'd start ranting about how that SOB Roy Cohn railroaded poor Ethel Rosenberg into the electric chair:
"Your Great Aunt Jo, the devout Catholic who sent money to the Jesuit missionaries in China, was friends with Ethel Rosenberg, the alleged Rusky spy. Ethel used to hang out in Aunt Jo's office while Ethel waited for her little boys to get out of school. Then she'd take them for religious instruction. About all she was guilty of was having a husband who may have been a Rusky spy. The United of America burned a woman with two little boys in the electric chair ... all because Roy Cohn wanted to be a big shot. That's why I'm against the death penalty! There is no such thing as equal justice!"
The first time I was in the Supreme Court I puked all over their really expensive looking rug. When a guard took me to the court's little infirmary, Justice Frankfurter popped in. The guard tried to introduce me to the great man, but instead of shaking hands, I hid behind the guard, frightened by a big man wearing a black dress.
Once you are aware that it is possible and the ingredients, building an atomic bomb is relatively simple. The hard part is getting enough uranium or plutonium to make a bomb, and keeping the stuff from killing you once you lay your hands on it, as my college physics professor claimed. The Rosenbergs didn't give the Russians much help with bomb building... if any at all.
