Your Tax Dollars at Work

I was walking through Boston Common yesterday. We are having "Marine Days" here in Boston and the first sign I saw of the activity on the common was trio of smartly dressed officers walking up the path that runs parallel to Beacon Street. They were walking toward the State House. They nodded very politely. Then, as I proceeded down the slope I noticed a group of soldiers wearing fatigues and carrying rifles darting in an out of the trees. We will assume that the rifles were not loaded. The open field of the common was off to the left and as it became visible I saw tents and heavy equipment, vehicles and helicopters, all surrounded with metal railings and with very polite and well washed marines allowing the public to to clamber through them. Here are some pictures from this morning's globe. The engineer in me became fascinated. I actually walked through one of them. The engineer in me sometimes feels like my evil genius.

My route took me through the Public Garden. It has been truly spectacular this spring. Two weeks ago we had some warm weather that brought out all the flowers and then it turned cold so they have persisted. It has been a huge flower arrangement that has been sitting for weeks in the refrigerator of the early spring weather of New England.

Next I headed for Copley Square. The Marines were there as well. They had 4 machine guns set up around the large fountain where the skate boarders practice all winter while it is empty. It's still empty, but only one skate boarder was there in the cross fire of the machine guns. He looked very brave, but then there were no marines actually manning the machine guns at the time. They still looked very threatening though. And there was a large, I think it's called a mortar? I didn't stop to ask, a very large gun about 12 feet high, which they had pointed at the Boston Public Library. I can't imagine what these people are thinking about. I'm sure this is all meant to gain good will and show us how our tax dollars are spent, but pointing machine guns at skateboarders and artillery at the BPL is a little to ominous, dare I say prophetic, to be comfortable.

Here is another article from this mornings Globe- "Travesty of Justice" by Kevin Cullen. I recommend to you that you read it carefully. Be mindful that in describing the actions of the FBI and the Court system he is discussing the same entity which enforces it's will with the Marines who are flexing their muscles for us all in our fair "City on a Hill." Then go look at those gun emplacements on Copley Square.

Oh! By the way, did you hear that the BU class of 40 years ago will finally have a graduation ceremony. Those of you who remember will know that they never graduated because of the National Guard killing 4 students at a war protest at Kent State University. Those of you who don't can read about it here. BU has invited all the members of that year's class to join in this year's graduation, so they will finally have a ceremony. I add this as a reminder to those who think that it can't happen here. Think about Kent State in 1970 while enjoying "Marine Week".

Bicycles, accidents and police

Here is a story from the NY Times regarding a confrontation between a bicyclist and a police officer. While you are drawing your own conclusions I'll tell you a story.

On September 30th 2004, about 4 pm, I was riding my bicycle on Massachusetts Avenue from my home in Dorchester, that is I was heading into town. I had only just started riding again after the summer during which I was struggling with medication resistance and the damage that AZT had done to my bone marrow. It felt good. After months of thinking that life was over I was starting feel like there was a future and strength would return. I was exercising, I was out in the free air, I was also fairly weak still and being quite cautious.

I am a long time bike rider- I started riding racing bikes in 1964, and I always rode fast. I discovered in high school that the guys who bullied me started to back off when I started to pass them on the long straight road that lead to the High School. They were in cars, I was on my bike. My philosophy of bike riding is that the cars can't hit you if you are going faster than they are.

But on that day in 2004 I discovered a flaw in that reasoning. Mass Ave, as we call it, gets a little complicated in the area where the food markets, Melnea Cass Bldv. and the exit from the central artery all converge. there is a huge detour around the fire department buildings, unexpected one way changes and very odd traffic patterns. In my hay day this would have been a signal to sprint- and perhaps if I had things would have been different, but I was cautious. There is a sidewalk on the left hand side, and I slowed down, got on the sidewalk, and was proceeding cautiously. As I was crossing Gerard Street, quite properly in the cross walk, a car came full speed down Mass Ave, turned into Gerard Street, and plowed into me. So much for being cautious. These are my memories: I remember flying through the air, thinking an expletive about not being able to "get out of this;" I remember coming to in the ambulance, I called my brother, I am told, and remember the EMT saying the car was doing 30 mph when it hit me; I remember having my clothes cut off and then a doctor apologizing profusely about how long I was in the Emergency Room. I assured her it was my quickest trip to an ER ever, I had no idea that it was midnight and I had been there for 6 hours. That's it, no memory of anything else.

Weeks later, when I went to get the police report, thinking of a nice law suit, I discovered that the officer, of whom I have no memory, entered a report saying that the car had been parked and that I ran into it, and in addition that I had been belligerent toward him. No explanation of how it happened that the front and rear wheels of my bicycle had been bent sideways, or of how the hood and windshield of the car had been damaged. I say nothing about how an unconscious person expressed his belligerence.

So that is what I have to say about bicycles and the police!

The quality of mercy

"..... it is twice blest;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes

The throned monarch better than his crown;

In the BBC on line news, as well as other sources, I see that the Lockerbie bomber is to be returned to Libya on humanitarian grounds. I am surprised to learn from the associated press that his conviction was not a life sentence but for only 27 years, that there is ground for an appeal, and that many in Britain think him innocent. This was not mentioned in the BBC report, and is rather important in forming an opinion about the situation. I find myself wondering what it means that the sentence was only 27 years, given the heinous nature of the crime, this in itself seems odd. further exploration of the BBC yields this report regarding the likelihood that he was simply a scapegoat. I encourage you to read it before forming an opinion regarding the release. It seems rather clear that the evidence was very tenuous, and even that may have been paid for by our own government, who are now vociferously protesting the release: he purchased clothing in the store of a Maltese merchant. Things often change there appearance when one starts comparing reports.

In the first BBC article, however, there is a statement that deserves careful attention. It is a statement from the Scottish Justice Secretary kenny MacAskill I quote the BBC

He said compassion and mercy were about "upholding the beliefs we seek to live by, remaining true to our values as a people, no matter the severity of the provocation or the atrocity perpetrated".

There is an important concept in this, that we have values and be committed to live by them. In the post 2001 US it often seems to me that whatever the rhetoric about "The War On Terror" the fact is that in the aggressive curtailing of individual rights we give victory to the forces who attack our principles. I find myself asking what our principles are that the ideas of justice, of proof, of mercy and of compassion are so easily perverted by mass hysteria fanned by sound bites and the need for scapegoats. It is not very comforting, but Mr. MacAskill at least seems to have been paying attention to Shakespeare.