Editorial

As a child in the sixties living in Poindexter Village, I remember running and playing in the safe surroundings of the apartment buildings on our court. I didn’t know, or care at the time, that Poindexter Village was one of the oldest public housing communities in the United States.   I had no clue that it was named after the honorable Reverend James Poindexter who, in 1882, was the first African-American to serve on the Columbus Board of Education and was also the first elected to Columbus City Council in 1880.  He was the Pastor of the historic Second Baptist Church from 1848 to 1898. I didn’t know any of that history. I just knew we lived in the “Village.”   As I used chalk to draw pictures on the sidewalk, little did I know that I might possibly be drawing on the same piece of ground that Aminah Brenda Lynn Robinson, the great African American artist, had drawn on when she lived there from 1940 until 1957, the year after I was born, before I could meet her in the village and possibly become a person in her “A Street Called Home” series about Poindexter Village and Mt.

Despite not being a professional football fan, after being inundated with much pre-game chatter, this year I decided to watch the Super Bowl. The story line, according to multiple pundits, was the best defense going against the best offense. What actually resulted was something else entirely. Super Bowl? I think not. Sub-Par Bowl, is more like it. The best part was the Halftime Show, which is really saying something. I didn't really expect much from Bruno Mars, but to my surprise, he was pretty good. The lady who delivered an operatic rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” before the game received high praise from the announcers and others, but I found it tedious and overly drawn out. By comparison, many years ago I saw the Boys Choir of Harlem do the best rendition of the National Anthem ever. It was done in a very quick tempo. They didn't indulge in any extra trills or flourishes, they just belted it out and were done with it. At the time I remember thinking, “that's the way everyone should sing the National Anthem.” To my regret, I haven't heard anyone do it that way since. In short, I thought the Super Bowl was a real dud.

[This is the first in a two part series] Fukushima’s missing melted cores and radioactive gushers continue to fester in secret. Japan’s harsh dictatorial censorship has been matched by a global corporate media blackout aimed—successfully—at keeping Fukushima out of the public eye. But that doesn’t keep the actual radiation out of our ecosystem, our markets…or our bodies Speculation on the ultimate impact ranges from the utterly harmless to the intensely apocalyptic. But the basic reality is simple: for seven decades, government bomb factories and privately-owned reactors have spewed massive quantities of unmonitored radiation into the biosphere. The impacts of these emissions on human and ecological health are unknown primarily because the nuclear industry has resolutely refused to study them. Indeed, the official presumption has always been that showing proof of damage from nuclear bomb tests and commercial reactors falls to the victims, not the perpetrators. And that, in any case, the industry will be held virtually harmless.

In hindsight I realize it was a mistake. Oh, I had good intentions, but, alas, I have erred. For Christmas I gave Mrs. Peaves a tablet computer. Now she has become one of “those people.” You know the type. Always tinkering away on their smart phones, twiddling their thumbs to the tempo of a quick-paced Samba. God knows what most of those people are up to, perhaps launching a plan to commit some crime, or gossiping about their friends more likely. A year ago Mrs. Peaves was not exactly what you might call tech-savvy. Frankly she was pretty much tech-ignorant. She was afraid of the computer, actually. On the odd occasion when she needed to use one, I had to stand over her shoulder and guide her through the steps. It's tedious work, I can tell you. But then, around nine months ago, she dropped her cell phone in the toilet. That wasn't a good day for anyone, I assure you. The end result was, Mrs. Peaves was forced to get a new phone. Her contract was up anyway, so she received a new one for free, free that is if you don't count all the fees associated with it. What she got was a smart phone.

There is a reason white people can't seem to stop appropriating black culture, a reason that white American culture, despite being the dominant aspirational culture for the rest of the world, seems so boring to the people it portrays. White supremacy has paid a price for its place at the top, and that price is its people's humanity, humanity in all its beautiful and brutal, maddening and serendipitous contradictions. Contradictions that must unwaveringly be excised or, perhaps more accurately, replaced with more civilized ones. America's racists have been dying of thirst, so it's time to sing about them. Every time Sherman's in the Super Bowl he be actin' like his shit don't stink. Moments after Richard Sherman tipped Colin Kaepernick's pass to prompt a game-sealing interception, he tipped one of white America's greatest contradictions, that of the graceful winner, which Twitter promptly intercepted, complete with covert and overt racist social media updates and litany of defending posts in the black blogosphere.

Not since the abolitionists and suffragists rocked Ohio’s politics in the 19th and 20th centuries has a movement in the Buckeye State been so essential to human rights. The announcement last week that Ohio’s Legislative Black Caucus, aided by civil rights advocates, is backing The Voter Bill of Rights as an amendment to the Ohio Constitution is the single most important issue before us in the 21st century. The proposed constitutional amendment would end the massive new Jim Crow purges of poor and black people Ohio has become notorious for in national elections. The amendment would adopt the approach of the European Union and make voting a Constitutional right. Many Americans are shocked to discover that the right to vote is currently not an enshrined Constitutional right. Voting rights are often limited by the 50 different state governments that administer federal, state and local elections. The proposed voter bill of rights would assure that all qualified Ohio citizens have a right to cast a ballot, and more importantly, have that ballot counted. Since the 2004 election, Ohio’s history in purging poor and low income voters has been nothing less than appalling.

I have seen images of many executions over the decades that I’ve been working to end the death penalty. One that stands out in my mind is film footage of an Iraqi military execution of a number of men tied to posts. After the initial volley, an officer then walked down the line, quickly putting a bullet into the head of each victim. The Coup de Grace, a final blow to end the suffering of a mortally wounded person, seems to be an odd demonstration of compassion in the midst of an otherwise gross violation of human rights. Yet, if Ohio is allowed to continue with its current execution protocol, I can see a day when those charged with carrying out executions will insist on its use. Amnesty International (AI) opposes the death penalty as a violation of the right to life, as enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

As I have previously mentioned, Mrs. Peaves works with underprivileged children. That has led her to befriend some of their parents. A few years ago she learned that most of them were being ripped off yearly by unscrupulous tax preparers. She asked me to help them by preparing their taxes for them. What I learned was shocking, but more on that later. Over the weekend, Mrs. Peaves talked me into (read: browbeat me into) doing her own taxes. When I was finished I learned something that did not make her happy. I learned that the IRS will not begin processing returns until January 31. After researching the delay, I learned it was a result of the government shutdown back in October. The IRS made the announcement soon after the shutdown was over, but I did not see the news at the time. It was probably in the business news, which I routinely ignore. Since learning of the delay Mrs. Peaves has been in a snit, and not because her own return won't be processed until the end of the month. Her concern is the poorest members of the community who are typically eager to get their hands on some quick cash.

I need a new hobby. Not that I am tired of my old ones, it's just I watch too much television. Mind you, I don't watch that much. There's not that much that interests me. I watch “Jeopardy” because I like facts. I like old things, so I watch “Antiques Roadshow” and “American Pickers.” Other than those programs, I do not watch much of anything on a regular basis with one exception, “The Big Bang Theory,” which, in my opinion is the greatest sit-com of all time. I like science too. I like old movies, so I often tune to Turner Classic Movies. But the other night none of my favorite shows were airing and there was nothing to meet my fancy on TCM so I started hopping around the program guide looking for something, anything to occupy my time. I found something that I thought might do the trick.