Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go ten thousand miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on brown people in Vietnam while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple human rights?
The late “rhetorical pugilist” Christopher Hitchens sub-titled his book God Is Not Great with “How Religion Poisons Everything.” He might have added, and perhaps did in his leftist days, that propaganda poisons everything, too.
Returning to the United States in an election year, I am struck by the silence. I have covered four presidential campaigns, starting with 1968; I was with Robert Kennedy when he was shot and I saw his assassin, preparing to kill him. It was a baptism in the American way, along with the salivating violence of the Chicago police at the Democratic Party’s rigged convention. The great counter revolution had begun.
In mid-August of 1948, sweltering summer heat was largely negated by high pressure and the frigid winds of Cold War. The Second War to End All Wars still smoldered in the recent past, while the witch hunt of McCarthyism loomed on the near horizon. Of course, I knew nothing of this, having only recently earned a birth certificate and U.S. Citizenship as a reward for successfully negotiating Mom’s birth canal, and taking my first breath in America’s Heartland.
While coverage of Justin Trudeau’s recent visit to Washington was embarrassingly banal in its emphasis on “bromance” between Obama and the Canadian PM, at least it was accurate (in the limited sense valued by the dominant media), except for the 60 Minutes feature that comically confused a photo of Sex and the City star Kim Cattrall for Margaret Trudeau. However, one aspect of the reporting did stand out as both a lie and dangerous nationalist mythology.
“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” Those were the last few words of one of the most inspiring speeches I’ve ever encountered. Written and delivered by peace angel Arundhati Roy at the World Social Forum in Porto Allegre, Brazil, January 27th, 2003, she inspired me to arise from lethargic insouciance and make some noise. I too have little doubt that another world is on her way, but what will she look like? Garden of Eden or nuclear wasteland? Will she be breathing freely or gasping for air? And if my words of anger are sh
At the February 11 Democratic Debate, Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton had a spirited exchange about an unlikely topic: the 92-year old former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger. Sanders berated Clinton for saying that she appreciated the foreign policy mentoring she got from Henry Kissinger. “I happen to believe,”said Sanders, “that Henry Kissinger was one of the most destructive secretaries of state in the modern history of this country.”
Step right up folks and see the greatest show on the planet. El Chapo is his name, and magic is his game. Is he saint or is he sinner? Watch in awe as this vertically challenged boy from Sinaloa transforms himself from lowly peasant to powerful prince before your very eyes. Gaze in amazement as El Chapo escapes daringly from not one, but two maximum security prisons, only to be captured and imprisoned once again.
Five months ago, I wrote an article titled “Jimmy Carter’s Blood-Soaked Legacy” about how the former President’s record in office contradicted his professed concern for human rights. Despite campaigning on a promise to make respect for human rights a central tenet of the conduct of American foreign policy, Carter’s actions consistently prioritized economic and security interests over humanitarian concerns.
A Checkered Past
Thanks to research and the minds behind it, a great deal of human progress is undeniable. Yet, equally undeniable is the fact that research has the potential to fuel awful social transgressions. Consider Amy Maxmen’s writing on genetics. She broaches a handful of research Frankensteins like human radiation experiments, Tuskegee, and Nuremburg. Although such reprehensible instances happened years ago, research’s checkered past is by no means distant.
