Global
It'll be a busy time in the Huntsville Death House. Feb. 23 sees Cornelius Goss strapped down for his last shot, followed the very next day by 64-year old Betty Beets. March will bid adieu to Odell Barnes, Timothy Gribble and Dennis Bagwell, and Super April will be crueler yet, with lethal injections for Orien Joiner, Victor Saldona, Robert Carter, Robert Neville and Ricky McGinn. Carruthers Alexander goes to his maker on May 3. Such, at least, is the present execution calendar.
Since the death penalty was reinstated in 1976, there has been mounting legal evidence that capital punishment cannot be implemented in a fair and impartial manner. The state of Illinois, for example, currently has 161 people on death row.
During this year's legal holiday marking the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., I was invited to speak at a small, predominantly white Southern college. For decades, this school had been racially segregated, like other all-white public educational institutions. The college's first black faculty member had been hired only in the early 1980s. Nevertheless, the initial reception I received was friendly and positive, from administrators, faculty and representatives of the student government association, who had sponsored my visit. Nothing up to that point had prepared me for what I would soon encounter that evening. My lecture that night was before an audience of perhaps 500 people, consisting mostly of students and a significant number of African Americans from the surrounding community. I spoke about the enduring legacy of Martin, the necessity to achieve social justice, and the urgent need for constructive dialogue across America's racial chasm. As I concluded, most of the audience responded favorably to the message, but many sat in silence.
"Divisive issue," "find common ground," "an issue on which reasonable people can disagree." George W. Bush, leading contender for the Republican nomination, has made a specialty out of not saying much on the issue -- or, more specifically, not reminding the general audience that he wants a constitutional amendment outlawing abortion.
But since the rhetorical firepower on the Republican side is strongly pro-life -- Alan Keyes and Gary Bauer double-teaming the wishy-washy pro-lifers, and Steve Forbes swooping down in Iowa to take advantage of the zealous pro-life voters there -- it's b-a-a-ack.
Still, there has been rather more significant political news lately than what television pundits invariably describe as "New Hampshire's first-in-the-nation primary."
Major presidential candidates -- especially Democrats -- are fond of claiming to represent the interests of Americans far from the top of the economic ladder. But a new book compiled by the Center for Public Integrity, "The Buying of the President 2000," sheds bright light on the big money sources that have propelled the political careers of high-profile contenders -- two Democrats, eight Republicans and Reform Party hopeful Patrick Buchanan.
None of those candidates is closer to Wall Street, or more indebted to it, than Bill Bradley. And yet, "the politics of ambiguity" generates so much fog on the media landscape that quite a few people view him as a progressive alternative.
First there is the incomprehensible second-place finish of Steve Forbes, a man with the charisma of former guv Dolph Briscoe. Now your cynics would argue that Forbes proves that with enough money, you can elect a can of Alpo president of this country.
What could be more mysterious than why voters would respond to Steve Forbes? Is he cuddly? Does he seem like a statesman? Do you think he feels our pain? Does he have a distinguished record? Do we actually think the most crucial problem facing America today is that rich people need more money?
My long-held theory that Steve Forbes is an extraterrestrial (no belly button on that one) may be relevant here. Forbes proposes to completely scrap our current tax system -- always a satisfying notion in and of itself -- and replace it with a flat tax instead. Why would anyone except those in Forbes' tax bracket favor a move like that? And why would even rich Americans, who Lord knows are making out like bandits in this two-tier economy, feel entitled to even more?
He doesn't like to talk about the abortion issue.
"We have a message a day," said Ms. Tucker, "and we want to stick to it. We are not going to have one big, fat news conference on our schedule where everyone can come ask questions about what you think is the news of the day."
I like that. There it is, as they used to say during an unfortunate war.
I can see where campaign strategists would assume the media have no function other than to relay a candidate's message of the day, like a giant bullhorn. ("Message: I care," Big George Bush once said, cutting right to the chase.) But this does raise, once more, the delicate matter of W. Bush's ability to function outside "the bubble" so carefully created by Karl Rove & Co.
But while crime rates -- on paper -- are continuing to drop across the country, these rates are dropping regardless of whether a tough or a lenient approach to crime is being applied. Take a look at San Francisco and New York. Since 1995, violent crime has dropped 33 percent in San Francisco and 26 percent in New York. Great law enforcement? Terrific timing? Perfect policy application? Hardly.
Lo, they explained, changes of celestial magnitude were not far off. A miraculous future, swiftly approaching, would bring cornucopias of bandwidth and market share. A pair of prominent clerics named Steve Case and Gerald Levin gained ascendancy. Under bright lights, how majestic they looked!
And how they could preach! Announcing unification, they seemed to make the media world stand still. Reporters and editors gasped. Some were fearful, their smiles of fascination tight. Others bowed and scraped without hesitation.
In keeping with the dominant creeds of the era, believers in the divine right of capital asserted that separation of corporate church and state was an anachronism. A torch had been passed to a new veneration. Media monarchs would rule with unabashed fervor, while taking care to help regulate mere governments.
A "Frontline" documentary on PBS, "The Case for Innocence," gives the most chilling case histories in a stupid and tragic trend in criminal justice.
DNA identification, which has become more sophisticated by the year, is the greatest advance in criminal detection since the fingerprint. It has enabled the system to put away criminals who otherwise would have gotten off scot-free and to find perps years after the crime when their DNA shows up after an unrelated arrest. Short of a truth serum, this is the best thing that could happen for the criminal justice system.
The problem is, DNA evidence sometimes shows that the system messed up and nailed the wrong person for a crime. In fact, it happens depressingly often.