Harper's always seems a step or two ahead of the game. From Garret Kelzer's article in February's issue:

But the alarms raised in America's ongoing right-to-die debate have always been characterized by a curious selectivity. You will notice, for example, how the fear of playing God operates exclusively on one side of the medical playground. Thus to help a patient end his or her life "prematurely" is playing God, while extending it in ways and under conditions that no God lacking horns and a cloven hoof could ever have intended is the mandate of "our Judeo-Christian heritage" and the Hippocratic oath. ...

When former Attorney General John Ashcroft thrice challenged the Oregon Death with Dignity law, threatening to prosecute participating physicians under DEA regulations (a threat that now stands at the bench of the Supreme Court), nobody mentioned the dangerous course toward theocratic despotism--or rather some did mention it, though their voices were effectively drowned out by larger moral concerns, such as those occasioned by the sight of Janet Jackson's breast or a gay groom's boutonniere.

When the Vatican issued its 2004 statement against the removal of feeding tubes from vegetative patients, a development that has even conservative ethicists and devout Catholic physicians slapping their foreheads in disbelief, few commentators spoke about returning to a day, no farther back than the 1970s, when a dying patient who begged not to be intubated would have her wrists tied like those of a condemned witch so that she could not pull the instruments of salvation from her body. Instead we are told that time will be required "to reflect upon the ruling"--time that translates in concrete human terms to a slow and horrible death.

Lord help us if the US government decides to determine when a person can reasonably end his or her terminal existence. Where are the conservative christians when we need them? 0 comments

Bookie and I walked over to his "homies crib" to stop in an say hello. Four months out of Clarksdale, Bookie was back with our Habitat trip and I was doing him a favor.

Z-Balls and Bird live in a run-down shack just off Poplar by the Clarksdale Habitat dorm. The front living room was devoid of furniture, white paint peeling off the walls. Z-Balls was in his bedroom watching Smack Down on an old tv getting bad reception. He looked depressed.

It turns out being in the Vice Lords is not enough to stop your mamma from taking the furniture and running out with a 20 year old. It seems that having street cred in a place like Clarksdale is not enough to stop the creep of desperation. These kids were sad.

Bird showed D the samurai sword he had hustled, we laughed and they asked me if I wanted to buy some reefer. D told them I was "straight up gangster" and "didn't do that shit." I politely declined the offer, and told them to make sure ole Bookie did no smoking while he was down. They agreed.

Then I saw the look in their eyes. The way the looked over Bookie. It was envy, but not in a mean way. He was out. His Dad dead, his mom nominal at best, he had found a way out. Their mom was across town with a kid half her age, and she had left them nothing. Their eyes returned to Smack Down.

D and I walked out. The night was chilly and I told him how sad I felt for these kids. Couldn't they get jobs? Couldn't they go back to school?

"They's smart, but the hood's got em, man. You can feel it. The hood has 'em." He shook his head, watching his feet. "I want to do something, but I just don't know what I can do." We walked on in silence.

I used to walk in on my mother drunk almost every night. Sometimes we would fight, other times cry. A lot of nights I just stormed into my room, closed the door and escaped. Occasionally, in the mornings, I would try to talk sense to her. You know the routine: "you've gotta stop drinking," etc. The bills would pile up, the floor would rarely be washed. The paint would start to peel. There was a tangible sense of desperation in our house, and you could cut it with a knife. My mom was scared of the future, and so was I.

It's been a long time since I felt that fear. The Lord has been good to me, and I have walked away from the desperation of poverty and substance abuse. This Spring Break, Bookie reminded me what it's all about. When everything's broken, you're reminded that control is fleeting, at best. 0 comments

In Bothel, Washington there lives a woman named Janelle. She is the wife of a biker, mom to three kids, and a good friend of my wife and I. She is also one-half Chippewa on her mother’s side. A social worker for the City of Seattle, Janelle has a teepee in her yard, authentic Chippewa jewelry around her neck, and an appreciation for the traditions of her ancestors in her heart.

A few years ago Janelle showed me a picture of her two oldest kids at a pow-pow in the early 90s. What struck me about this photo was the authenticity of the religious items the kids were wearing. Shirts made from buffalo hide, hand sewn beadwork, and real moccasins, these kids were drenched in the sacred garb of their ethnicity. They were real Chippewa taking part in timeless religious ceremonies. Mostly they looked proud.

Three weeks ago I broke my rule and attended a University of Illinois men’s basketball game. At half-time dozens of white and asian students encircled the court to welcome their Chief. Dressed in rawhide sewn in the fashion of the Ogala Sioux and sporting a headdress of dyed turkey feathers, the Chief fancy danced to the March of the Illini while the students gazed in awe.

I excused myself to use the restroom.

In the corridors of the Assembly Hall there is a silent minority. After buying a much-too-large serving of ice cream, I stumbled into some former students. Asking why they were standing in the corridor eating their own ice cream, Lauren and Tim expressed their disgust with the Chief’s display. Next to us I heard someone say “amen” in agreement. Minutes later I overheard a man on a cellphone describing the Chief as “embarrassing.”

I’m not sure when I decided the Chief was wrong. It may have been the day Janelle showed me that wonderful picture. It might have been before that day. I’m just not sure anymore.

But I know it every time I see it. May the Lord hasten the day of the men’s championship, and the retirement of the Chief. 4 comments

Larry Rohter writes in today's New York Times about the rise of left-leaning leaders in South America. The article is another example of his extraordinary reporting from the continent and is illuminating for several reasons, mainly his explanation of the causes behind the new popularity of the left:

At the outset of the 1990's, "The Washington Consensus" - the name given to the recipe of open markets, privatization and stabilized budgets being pushed by the United States - seemed to have swept away everything before it. ...

But over the past decade, freer trade and increased foreign investment have failed to narrow the gap between rich and poor and left millions of poor people outside the economy and looking in resentfully. Between 1998 and 2003, once inflation is taken into account, Latin America as a whole did not grow at all, according to International Monetary Fund figures.

As a result, in one country after another, the candidates who have been most successful in appealing to voters are those who, like Dr. Vázquez here (Uruguay), promise that the state will play a greater role and not leave the market to its own devices.

Sounds familiar, eh? There was a time when the United States led the world in creating rights for citizenry and workers. Those days are gone. While the rest of world is slowly waking up from the excesses and idiocy of the "free trade" brainwash that went down under Clinton in the 90s, America continues it's corporate joyride over the workers of America, and the world.

Supporters of free trade may chime in about how "productivity" is lowering the wages of Americans, and "open markets" are helpful for American producers. Here's an example:

Democrats are ... now calling for stronger labor and environmental protections in any trade agreements that the United States enters.

But a spokesman for the USTR, Richard Mills, ... said these Democrats' opposition is "counter-intuitive." He characterized their logic as the following: "'I'm sorry, Mr. U.S. Small Businessman. I feel so strongly about the environment in Honduras, and whether a Honduran worker can organize, that I'm not going to let you sell them anything.'"

This is a blatant distortion of the truth. Anyone who has spent any time in, say, South Korea, China, or India knows those countries protect their workers and economies furiously. I lived in South Korea for almost two years and had to hit the black market (and pay through the nose!) for a box of Fruit Loops. The only cars on the road were Hyundai. The only appliances in the kitchens were LG. China is even worse, and the story on India is the same. There is no free market. Just a market that exploits American workers.

Today, and in the coming weeks, there is something we can all (Libs and Cons) do to stop the tide of oppressive economic policies. The Central American Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) is coming to Congress later this year. It needs to be stopped. Yes, we need to pull out of the WTO. Yes, we need to repeal NAFTA. But this year we have a chance to, if not stop the bleeding, at least stop the cut from increasing.

Click here here and here for more details.

God bless America. 0 comments