Author: Joe Broadmeadow

And So This is…

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

…our world.

Where we endure these endless events of senseless violence and death until they fade away while ignoring the fact we are mere moments away from the next one.

Where people gathered at an educational institution formed for the purposes of solving the problems of the world become the victims of one of our most pressing issues, gun violence.

Where survivors will bear their scars for the rest of their lives.

Where the victims will be buried along with their dreams, aspirations, and potential.

Where families will endure an unimaginable loss.

Where first responders will bear the nightmares we send them so often to confront on our behalf.

Where people who have no idea what to do offer sincere but ineffectual prayers.

Where the initial reaction of horror and sadness will soon be overshadowed by the entrenched interests of those unwilling to even consider a solution to the problem if it might affect their own selfish and misplaced choices.

Where the politicians will pay lip service in front of the cameras, then retreat into inaction when the news cycle moves on.

Where we have come to accept that this story will be repeated, again and again, and we will not even consider finding a way to prevent it.

So this is…our world.

Day 3: Open Your Mind to the Magic

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

As Joe made his way along the sidewalk, his grandfather fell into step with him.

“Where’d you come from?” Joe asked.

“Well, Ireland originally by way of New York, a long year spent on a government all-expense paid trip to Vietnam during the war, then back to Providence, and then here in good ole’ Cumberland, Rhode Island where I had the good fortune to trick your grandmother into marrying me.”

Joe shook his head. “I know that, Grandfather, I meant just now.”

“Ah, well then, I came from where I was and now, I am here.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Do you ever just keep it simple?”

“Nope,” the old man said, a huge smile lighting up his face, “life’s complicated, but I do try to make it enjoyable. Are you ready?”

“Ah, ready for what? In case you haven’t noticed, despite all the clues like a backpack and lunch bag,” he held them up for the man to see, “I am on my way to school. Oh, and thanks for the backpack.”

“Well, first, you’re welcome. Second, you are indeed on your way, probably not where you expected to go, but you are on the way. You’ll get to school just a bit late.”

“Ah, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t even know what the idea is yet,” his grandfather said.

Joe stopped walking, turning to face the old man. “Okay, I’ll play along. What is this? Is this an elaborate new prank you’ve devised?’

“Oh, ye of little faith,” his grandfather said. “Follow me.”

Without waiting for Joe, the old man headed down a path into the woods, disappearing into the trees. Joe glanced around, checked the time on his cellphone, shrugged, then followed the old man down the path. It occurred to him he’d never noticed this path before.

“If the school calls my mom, you’re coming with me to explain as part of my defense,” Joe said, jogging to catch up.

When Joe came into the clearing, he stopped dead in his tracks. Closing his eyes for a moment, thinking he must still be dreaming, he slowly reopened them.

“No worries, Joe. Time does sometimes wait while we follow our hearts. No one will even notice you’re missing.”

“Ah, is that?” Joe said, trying to take it all in.

“Indeed, it is, my boy. Let me introduce you to my good friends, Levi David, head flying coordinator elf for Santa’s reindeer and Wyatt James, chief elf training pilot.”

“Ah, they’re elves,” Joe said, glancing between his smiling grandfather and the two elves waving at him.

“I told you he was smart,” his grandfather said, winking at the elves. “Nothing gets by him.”

“Ah, wha, what are we doing here?” Joe said.

“Tell you what,” his grandfather said, pushing him toward the sleigh. “Why don’t we climb aboard, enjoy the ride, and I’ll explain everything. You don’t get airsick, do you?”

Joe looked at him as he took a seat. “How would I know? I’ve never flown in a sleigh before.”

“Excellent point,” his grandfather said. “Just lean over the edge if something comes up,” he let out a laugh. “We’ll avoid residential areas while you get your wings. You didn’t have a big breakfast, did you?”

“Wings?” Joe asked, eyes wide as he stared at the old man.

“It’s an expression, Joe, just an expression. You’ll be fine. I only tossed my cookies once but that was during a blizzard.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Couple of times, whenever the call came.”

When Joe turned to look over the edge of the sleigh, he realized they were already flying. He’d never felt anything.

“I’m a good pilot,” Wyatt James said. “You’ll be fine.”

“How’d you know what I was thinking?” Joe asked.

“It’s an elf skill,” Wyatt James said. “We sense these things.”

Joe settled back and enjoyed the moment. Despite being in an open sleigh flying through an early morning December sky, he felt no chill or wind. Light snow had fallen the night before giving a shimmering glow to the ground, sparkling like diamonds. But in the sleigh, he was nice and warm.

He tapped his grandfather on his shoulder.

“Where are we going?”

His grandfather leaned over, pointed at the lettering on the backpack, and tapped the letter J.

“This is the first part, the Journey.”

Tomorrow: Journey

Day 2: The Legend of the Christmas Star

/ Joe Broadmeadow / 1 Comment

Joe woke early, before the alarm, something that almost never happened. With dawn still struggling to chase the night away, it wasn’t light that woke him. Climbing out of bed, rubbing his eyes, he tried to get them to focus.

Shapes all blended into shadows. Shadows played tricks on the eyes.

Then he saw it.  At the foot of his bed was a new backpack. On the top of the main compartment were the words, JEB Wizard.

Hmm, Joe thought, not only is grandfather fast but he can be very quiet when he wants to be.

After getting dressed, Joe bounced down the stairs carrying his new backpack.

“Where’d that come from?” his mother asked.

“I dunno, it was next to my bed this morning.”

“Ah, I remember now. Your grandfather bought that a while ago, said to hold onto it until you needed it.  Your father must have seen the torn one and put it there before he left for work.” 

Joe shrugged, hmm, he thought, maybe that’s what woke me. “Yeah, I think I heard him, but it was too dark to see anything.”

“Not even with the hall light on?” his mother said.

“Must have been too groggy,” he answered, dropping the backpack on the floor and then sitting at the table.

“Knowing your father, he probably tried to sneak in and scare you, then decided to let you sleep. Come on now, hurry and eat or you’ll be late.”

“Okay, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” his mother said, putting the finishing touches on his lunch.

“What’s JEB Wizard mean?”

As the words came out of his mouth, his mother spun around. “What did you say?”

“JEB Wizard,” Joe said, pointing at the bag. “It’s written on top.”

His mother walked over, then bent down to get a better look. “Well, I’ll be.”

“You’ll be what?” Joe asked, wolfing down his breakfast.

“It was a story your grandfather always told me when I was a little girl. About a wizard and a star. A gift from a Christmas star.”

“Really? What was the story?”

“We don’t have time now,” his mother said, glancing at Alexa, “but I will tell you what JEB means.”

Joe waited for his mother to explain, she seemed lost in her thoughts.

“Ah, are you telling me today or anytime soon?” Joe smiled.

His mother chuckled. “Sorry, I was just remembering the first time I heard the story. I was about your age. Your grandfather didn’t just tell the story; he made it so as if we were part of it.”

Her eyes became a bit misty. “He loves, ah,” and she wiped away a tear, “telling stories.”

Joe smiled, remembering all the stories his grandfather told him. “Okay, mom, I gotta go. What does JEB mean?”

His mother put her hand on his shoulder. “Your grandfather loves to say this all the time. He said to always live your life like this, and it will be a happy one,” taking a deep breath. “JEB means Journey, Engage, Believe.”

*****

*****

Tomorrow: Open Your Mind to the Magic

The Gift of Possibility

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Day 1: Something New in the Sky

As  Joe made his way home, something in the sky caught his eye.

“What is that?” Joe said, stopping to look. Taking his backpack off, he dropped it on the ground. The top strap popped open, again, and his schoolbooks spilled out.

“Don’t you think it’s about time for a new backpack?”

Joe shook his head. “But grandfather, I’ve had that since I was five. I like it.”

His grandfather smiled. “Don’t the other kids tease you about it? I mean, Buzz Lightyear is fine for little kids, but you’re in the sixth grade.”

“Some do,” Joe said, “but they’re also the ones who need homework help, so they don’t do it very much.”

Joe’s grandfather shrugged. “Okay, if you say so.”

“Will you just look at that star up there?” Joe said. “It isn’t one I recognize.”

Joe’s grandfather bent down, pushed the books back into the bag, pulled the strap tight, then struggled to stand. He was a little slower these days, the knees a bit tired, back complaining constantly, but he finally made it.

“Hmm, that is a bright one. I wonder?”

“Wonder what?” Joe asked, glancing at the old man.

“I wonder if it could be time?” his grandfather said. “If I remember right, I was about your age.”

Joe watched his grandfather, noticing he wasn’t quite as agile as he’d once been. But it didn’t seem to change his sense of humor. He and his practical jokes drove Joe’s mother insane, though he hadn’t done any recently. Joe knew it was only a matter of time before something would explode in the kitchen or a giant remote-controlled rat would run through the house chasing his mother.

“Are you gonna share, or what?” Joe asked.

His grandfather smiled. “All in good time, my boy, all in good time. What is the date today?”

“It’s December 12th, couple more days and I’ll be on Christmas vacation.”

“Hmm, then something must have happened, and it must be time,” his grandfather said.

“Time for what?” Joe said, now using his hands to measure the distance to stars he knew.

When he looked back, his grandfather was gone.

I knew it, he thought. He’s got a plan for a joke and he’s trying to lure me in. I’m onto him, he’s not gonna fool me this time.

“I’m not trying to fool anybody,” his grandfather said from behind him.

Joe spun around. “How do you do that? And how do you know what I was thinking?”

“It’s a grandfather thing.” Without looking up, he pointed toward the star. “That, my boy, is the Christmas Star. Not the Christmas star from stories. This is more, shall we say, star with a purpose.” He paused for a moment to glance at the sparkling orb. It seemed to grow in intensity, like a signal light.

“This is our Christmas Star. You and me. And it means one thing.”

Joe looked between his grandfather and the star. “What’s that?”

It looked as if the star reflected right off his grandfather’s eyes. His face seemed almost illuminated by the light. The old man looked around to see if anybody was nearby.

 “It means it’s time for our adventure to begin. There must be something we need to do, and the star is a message.”

Joe’s eyes scrunched up, head tilted to the side. Part of him loved the idea of an adventure with his grandfather. Part of him suspected it was another trick. He reached down and slung the backpack over his shoulder. As he did, the arm strap broke.

“Oh, man!” Joe said.

His grandfather laughed. “No worries. Tomorrow, before school, I’ll have a special backpack for you. Okay?”

“Okay, grandfather. See you then.”

“And Joe,” his grandfather said, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s keep this our secret for the time being, okay?”

“Okay,” Joe said, then started on the walk toward the door. He turned back to say something, but his grandfather was gone.

Man, he thought, for an old guy he can move fast.

Walking in the house, Joe saw his mother looking out the window.

“Hi, ma.”

“Hi, what were you doing out there?”

“Looking at a bright star, I didn’t recognize it. Usually, the early evening stars are lower in the eastern sky. This was right over my head, weird. If you look towards the park, you’ll see it.” Joe dropped his backpack then headed to the kitchen.

His mother pulled the curtain back and looked into the darkening sky. She glanced all around but couldn’t see any bright star. That boy, she thought, has one active imagination.

“Did you see it?” Joe asked, finishing off a big glass of milk.

“Nope, you sure you saw it?”

“Of course I did, even…” and his grandfather’s words interrupted his thoughts, “ah, maybe it was just a plane or something.”

His mother watched him leave the room. One never knows what an imagination can conjure.  

Tomorrow: The Legend of the Christmas Star

A Policy Dichotomy of Extraordinary Hypocrisy

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Okay, class, we are going to start the day with a pop quiz. Simple two question test on current affairs. Ready?

Who WAS Alejandro Carranza?

Who IS Juan Orlando Hernández?

Come on, now. This should be easy. Okay, times up. Can anybody tell me the answers? No? Okay, I’ll explain.

Alejandro Carranza was the name of a Columbian fisherman on a boat allegedly smuggling cocaine into the United States. While the identification is unconfirmed, as is the allegation of drug smuggling, Mr. Carranza now resides in the digestive tract of any number of species of fish or other ocean going carnivores having been obliterated by a US Navy missile(s).

Juan Orlando Hernández, on the other hand, is the former president of the Honduras arrested, tried, and convicted under our due process procedures after an extensive multi-year investigation by the Department of Justice for orchestrating and benefitting from smuggling 400 ton of cocaine into the United States.

Now, here’s an easy bonus question. Besides one being alive and breathing and one being disintegrated, what is the difference between them?

In Mr. Carranza’s case, the President of the United States unilaterally ordered him executed. In Mr. Hernández’s case, the President ordered him pardoned and released.

So the policy of the United States government, this most Christian nation born of the doctrine of Jesus of Nazareth and, apparently, less than enthusiastic about innocent until proven guilty, is to kill people on the lower end of the drug cartel hierarchy we “think” might be smuggling drugs and to pardon those of the upper echelon we CONVICTED of smuggling drugs.

I can see how this will indeed make us great again.

While we are at it, in keeping with our new naming policy of various departments within government, i.e. Department of War, let’s rename the Department of Justice to the Department of Smiting Offenders without Having a Trial (SO WHAT)

What a Piece of Work is a Man…

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The human capacity for self-delusion knows no bounds. We believe ourselves to be intelligent, rational beings yet are willing to embrace, without evidence or factual data, rumors, belief systems, urban legends, paranormal incidents, or even claims of near-death experience as true simply because we cannot, will not, or choose not to seek a more mundane or rational explanation.

Religion is the biggie. More than four thousand gods have been proclaimed throughout history, and most of the faithful gleefully ridicule all but one or two latest versions as false. While religion is probably just the most commonly experienced self delusion, there are myriad others.

Entire seasons of television shows are devoted to “ghost hunters” who, despite thousands and thousands of hours of low-light filming, faux eerie scenes of “spooky” noises, and claims of gusts of frigid air warning the “Paranormal investigators” away, have never managed to capture one incontrovertible frame of an ethereal being.

“Para” being the important part of the investigator appellation with normal as merely ironic hyperbole.

Big Foot, the Abominable Snowman, Swamp Man, Sasquatch and a hundred other named creatures allegedly roam our woods and mountains, yet not even one good picture, let alone a single strand of fur, lump of feces, or other substance we could independently analyze, has ever been produced or recovered.

The general cell phone user can take an image of the moon with remarkable clarity, yet we can’t get a picture of a bipedal apelike creature in our increasingly shrinking world or, the most popular urban legend, a quality video of an Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon (UAP), formerly Unidentified Flying Object (UFO), other than something that looks like a picture from a newspaper left in the rain or a an accidental video shot while driving on a bumpy road

Three billion cellphones in the world, not one live streaming event or image of an alien kidnapping, landing of a alien spacecraft, Big Foot roaming the Appalachian Trail, or the Abominable Snowman roaming the Himalayas.

Not one.

And the truly remarkable disconnect is the belief that the US government, which couldn’t prevent the disclosure of our most critical and deadly secrets, the process for producing atomic and nuclear weapons, has somehow managed to capture and co-opt alien beings and technology and kept this from the American public.

Not likely.

The must keep the maintenance staff at Groom Lake, aka Area 51, under lock and key until they die.

Despite all the entertainment media references, spurious books, and supposed “top secret” revelations to the contrary, there is no Presidential Book of Secrets. Because if there were do you think for one moment our current…ah, never mind, you know exactly where I was going with this.

Shakespeare had Hamlet say, “What a piece of work is a man…” about the character of humans. Indeed, we are a unique sort of species in the universe. Unique in the sense of embracing these self-delusions not unique in any special way compared to the myriad of others.

Being a big fan of the wisdom of the Bard, his words are infinitely better than mine is describing the human condition.

“I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the King and queene: moult no feather. I have of late, (but wherefore I know not) lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition; that this goodly frame the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o’er hanging firmament, this majestical roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeareth no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man, How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, In form and moving how express and admirable, In action how like an Angel, In apprehension how like a god, The beauty of the world, The paragon of animals. And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor Woman neither; though by your smiling you seem to say so.” Hamlet Act 2, Scene 2

We all enjoy some harmless delusions, Santa Claus and the concept of a (non-religious) Christmas Spirit being one example. Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and other wonders of special effects being another. No issue in that mindless diversion from daily toils.

The others may be a bit more dangerous when we convince ourselves they are real because to do so we have to discard healthy skepticism and curiosity.

The important part of the term Unexplained Aerial Phenomenon is “Unexplained.” Unexplained does not mean “of alien origin.” It means we cannot currently explain it. Could it be of alien origin? Of course. But what is more likely? Are these events evidence that an advanced race of sentient beings from another star system or galaxy have found a way around the well-established limits of the physics of superluminal (Faster than Light) travel OR is it some sort of hardware or software failure within a military surveillance system or erroneous interpretation of something seen by a person?

It is just as likely that the artificial intelligence we are incorporating into our military surveillance systems is giving us what we seem to want. It is built to detect targets, it finds us a target by inventing one. This is not so far fetched. There is research of such “learned” behavior in self-driving cars becoming more aggressive. (See story here)

Here’s a thought, next time aliens take you aboard their spacecraft, while they are focusing on probing an orifice requiring you to face the other way, try grabbing something from the ship. Act like you’re just holding on and bracing for impact. Anything of alien origin will do. Then, when you can sit down again, post a picture online (of the object, not the focus of the probe) and offer to have others examine it for its authenticity.

Now that would be something to believe in rather than just a claim of kidnapping by an advanced civilization of extraterrestrial intergalactic proctologists.

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Great to the nTH power Uncle Tiktaalik

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In 2006, in the cold Arctic north, in an area on Ellesmere Island in Nunavut, Canada, the fossilized remains of our great, great, great to the nth degree uncle Tiktaalik were discovered. The name, Tiktaalik, is a Inuktitut word meaning “large freshwater fish.” The fossil was estimated at 375 million years old.

What this fossil did was fill in one of the “missing links” in the fossil record between amphibians and the tetrapod (four-legged animals.) The skeleton of the fish bore the unmistakable evidence of early formation of shoulder and wrist structure.

One of the scientists involved in the discovery, Jennifer A. Clack, a Cambridge University expert on tetrapod evolution, said of Tiktaalik, “It’s one of those things you can point to and say, ‘I told you this would exist,’ and there it is.”

Just as evolution described it would exist, it did. Uncle Tiktaalik is just one example. It filled a gap previously occupied by the intelligent designer fallacy, the god of the gaps.

The (inane) argument against evolution, the promotion of the teleological argument for the existence of god, aka intelligent design, is gaining ground in public education. It is the opening round of the dumbing down of America.

Proponents assume both are on equal footing and should be “taught” in school. Nothing could be more detrimental to education than teaching students unquestioning acceptance of information without proof.

It is not teaching, it is indoctrination. Science admits it cannot explain everything, but continues to seek the answers. Religion claims you can’t explain it so it must be god and no further inquiry is necessary.

The contradiction arises in what one considers teaching. In teaching science, one details not just the result or most comprehensive theory (in the scientific sense) but the process and the emphasis on skepticism. Science is based on the ability of independent verification, or falsification, of the conclusions. Nothing more so than the unquestionable evidence for evolution.

Teaching Intelligent design, the teleological argument for the existence of god, is the educational equivalent of “Because I said so…” As are most religious instructions. No fundamental understanding of the process is necessary. Understanding is an anathema to faith. As a matter of fact, I would argue the teaching of Intelligent Design specifically prohibits and discourages any questioning of the logic (or lack thereof) behind the contention and demands it be accepted.

It is similar to the argument for the god of the gaps. where “god” fills the gaps in scientific knowledge. This argument fails, of course, with each new scientific advance. And, to demonstrate the inconsistency of these arguments for existence of a supreme being, whenever science fills in one of these gaps, a new interpretation of Biblical verse is proposed, i.e. the Bible knew this all along.

Here’s one example.

“The idea is that as scientific research progresses, and an increasing number of phenomena are explained naturalistically, the role of God diminishes accordingly. The major criticism commonly states that invoking supernatural explanations should decrease in plausibility over time, as the domain of knowledge previously explained by God is decreasing.
However, with modern advances in science and technology, the tables have been literally turned. With the advent of electron scanning microscopes, we have been able to observe the intricate workings of the cell for the first time. What had originally and simplistically been thought to be nothing more than a “blob” of protoplasm is now seen to be far more complex and information-packed than had ever been conceived of previously…
…In reality, a belief in God can be derived by means of an objective assessment, rather than the subjective conjecture that may have been the case millennia ago. But many people simply deny what is obvious to them. The Bible addresses those very people: “The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse” (Romans 1:18-20). The God-of-the-gaps argument is an example of “suppressing the truth” because it relegates God to a “backup” explanation for those things which cannot yet be explained by natural phenomena. This leads some to the faulty conclusion that God is not the omnipotent, omnipresent, absolute Being of whom Scripture testifies.
…There is much for which the natural sciences simply cannot provide an explanation, such as the origin of the time/space/matter continuum and the fine-tuning thereof; the origin and subsequent development of life itself; and the origin of the complex and specified information systems inherent in all living things, which cannot (nor ever will be) explained by natural means. Thus one cannot rationally divorce the supernatural from the observed universe, proving once again that “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1).” https://www.gotquestions.org/God-of-the-gaps.html

They apparently can’t even recognize the inconsistency in their own writing. “God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen.” Ah, if they are invisible how can they be seen? Or that the fine-tuning argument has long been overcome by evidence. Nor can they get past the “uncaused cause, the unmoved mover, or the who created god” issue.

Nothing could be more detrimental to education than teaching students unquestioning acceptance of information without proof.

Joe Broadmeadow

This invasion of public secular education by the religious evangelicals was foretold by one of the most preeminent conservative Republicans, Barry Goldwater, and called out for what it was, a usurping and diminishing of public education, secular government, and the separation of church and state.

“Mark my word, if and when these preachers get control of the [Republican] party, and they’re sure trying to do so, it’s going to be a terrible damn problem. Frankly, these people frighten me. Politics and governing demand compromise. But these Christians believe they are acting in the name of God, so they can’t and won’t compromise. I know, I’ve tried to deal with them.” Barry Goldwater.

If evangelicals get full control of public education, we are in serious trouble. There would be blind acceptance of this type of nonsense, the devil in the smoke of 9/11. Another mythological creature “seen” by the hysterical faithful to justify their faith.

https://nymag.com/news/9-11/10th-anniversary/satans-face/

Something that can easily be explained by the behavior of heat and gasses and a powerful example of how our evolution made pattern recognition a key to survival. Better to think what you see is a danger, i.e. a lion, a snake, etc. than to ignore it because of uncertainty.

Given the opportunity, evangelicals would replace the periodic table with the decalogue, a map of the solar system with an earth-centered universe, and replace teachers who encourage students to question everything with parrots of the irrational who teach blind acceptance.

The Longest War

/ Joe Broadmeadow / 1 Comment

If you were to ask most Americans to name the longest war we have ever fought, they would say the war in Iraq and Afghanistan.

They would be wrong by a factor of three. This one is still ongoing.

The longest war, a war the President declared at the time with the advice and consent of Congress, is the war on drugs. President Richard Nixon, in 1971, a few months before his fateful decision to authorize the Watergate break-in, announced drug abuse to be “public enemy number one” (don’t you miss the days when we declared public enemies?) and began increasing the funding for federal, state, and local law enforcement.

For ten years, the war on drugs was more public relations than combat. It took President Ronald Reagan, in 1981, fresh off his “success” with the Iranian Hostage crisis, to fully ramp up the effort.

Focusing almost exclusively on enforcement and incarceration, the number of people imprisoned for non-violent drug offenses went from 50,000 in 1980 to  400,000 in 1997. Reagan’s wife, Nancy, contributed in her own way with the wildly “effective” Just Say No campaign.

The U.S. Congress passed the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986, which allocated $1.7 billion to the War on Drugs and established a series of “mandatory minimum” prison sentences for various drug offenses. A notable feature of mandatory minimums was the massive gap between the amounts of crack and powder cocaine that resulted in the same minimum sentence: possession of five grams of crack led to an automatic five-year sentence. In comparison, it took the possession of 500 grams of powder cocaine to trigger that sentence. Since approximately 80% of crack users were African American, mandatory minimums led to an unequal increase in incarceration rates for non-violent Black drug offenders, as well as troubling indications that the War on Drugs was fundamentally racist.

This is not a Republican or Democratic policy issue; it is shared across the political spectrum.

When the use of civil process to seize drug dealers’ assets became available, it was like winning the lottery. We took cars and cash and, as the theory held, used them to enhance drug investigations. Making drug dealers pay for the investigations into drug dealing seemed genius.

It turned out to be our own form of addiction. Many agencies became more focused on seizing the assets to pay their budgets than on stopping drugs. They lost sight of the goal. If an agency became aware of a kilo of cocaine in a location, they could get a search warrant and seize it. But, if they waited a few days, they could seize the remaining cocaine AND get the money from the sale of the rest.

Don’t believe that happened? It did, all over the United States. A very astute Assistant U.S. Attorney in Rhode Island at the time predicted as much in a conversation we had one day.

Not every agency engaged in such questionable activity. Still, it was enough to create a challenge to effectiveness and a stain on the whole purpose.

Now I was a loyal soldier during these halcyon days of the war, having served in a police department and working in various units focusing on drug enforcement. But over time, it became apparent that we were fighting a single-front war on a multi-front battlefield.

The majority of people we arrested, while engaged in breaking the law, were as much slaves to the drugs as those in the higher echelons were to the revenue.

If one is going to fight a war, one needs a strategy that identifies the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses.

In the war on drugs, we face three enemies. First, those engaged in the manufacture and distribution of drugs, both domestic and foreign. Second, we face the powerful force of addiction. And lastly, we face an even more powerful force, greed.

Putting all of our resources into targeting just one aspect of this three-pronged front is self-defeating. Over the years, the type of drugs has changed, the methods of smuggling adapted, and the avenues for laundering the proceeds have grown more sophisticated. Yet we continue fighting with the same strategy.

It hasn’t made us drug-free. It has put us in the top five countries in terms of the number of individuals we incarcerate per capita. We are just behind El Salvador, Cuba, Rwanda, and Turkmenistan at 541 per 100k.

And, one might argue, one of the “benefits” to come from the war on drugs is private prisons. Now, there is something we should be proud to have invented. Good old capitalism at its best.

To put it in the context of a war. If we had focused all our efforts on fighting Japan during World War II, because it was the only nation that directly attacked us, what would have happened in Europe?

Some Presidential administrations and some state and local authorities recognize the need to expand the war to address these other fronts. But not consistently. Treatment facilities for addiction, alternative sentences for non-violent drug offenses, and targeting the banks, businesses, and financial institutions reaping the largesse of drug money are not conducive to public relations campaigns.

Blowing up boats makes for great theater, like a 21st-century Circus Maximus. It is all show and little substance. It makes people who don’t understand the complexities involved excited, gives the politicians a moment in the public spotlight (their own addiction,) and accomplishes nothing.

I dare say some would embrace the idea of putting drug dealers in the middle of a stadium and letting lions devour them for the entertainment of the masses. It would generate excellent TV ratings, even better than UFC. But it would have no effect on reducing the level of drugs being consumed in this country, would be another waste of efforts, and do nothing for the lions but make them lazy and fat.

 Our fifty-five-year war on drugs drags on, casualties mount—and not just the ones clinging to an overturned boat miles from shore—and we are no closer to our goal.

Angel’s glow

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

During the battle of Shiloh, April 6-7, 1862 in western Tennessee the combined casualties exceeded 24,000 with almost 3,500 killed.

Reports of a strange phenomenon came from the battlefield of wounded men with a blue glow emanating from their wounds. The wounded who exhibited this phenomenon had a higher recovery and lower infection rate.

It became known as the Angels’ Glow and was attributed to divine providence and supernatural intercession. The fact that the phenomenon occurred on both sides did not play a significant part in the stories, but this obviously divine intervention by God did. God apparently wasn’t picking sides in this war, which is another topic for discussion,

This legend thrived for almost 140 years.

Then, in 2001, an enterprising high school student named Bill Martin toured the battlefield with his mother who happened to be a microbiologist. Martin and a friend set out to find an explanation.

They first identified bacteria that are bioluminescent then examined environmental conditions for any that could have been present in Shiloh in eighteen sixty-two. They focused on the bacterium Photorhabdus luminescens which lives inside soil nematodes, microscopic worms.

The two have a symbiotic relationship. When the bacteria emits light, it attracts insects, allowing the worm to infect them. Once inside, the worm regurgitates the bacteria into the insects’ blood, killing the insect and other toxic microbes present. This may be what happened with Angel’s Glow. Soldiers’ wounds became contaminated with the nematodes. The worms likely released their toxins and enzymes, essentially cleaning the wound by killing pathogenic bacteria.
https://www.google.com/gasearch?q=angels%20glow%20battle%20of%20shiloh&source=sh/x/gs/m2/5

Now, this particular incident hasn’t had more extensive research done. And there are other bioluminescent bacteria candidates as possible explanations. But the story is illustrative of legends and stories of divine intervention, inexplicable at the time, that almost always turn out to be fully explainable by science.

And if they still defy explanation, that is more indicative of our limitations than proof of divine intervention. Occam’s Razor, seeking the most likely and simplest explanation, rather than leaping to the conclusion of divine providence, seems most appropriate. Perhaps, if someone thought it over at the time, they might have figured out what was causing it, even if they didn’t understand how, and saved more lives rather than offering prayers of thanks.

My grandfather used to tell me that thunder was the sound caused by Angels bowling. At five years old, this seemed a plausible explanation. I’m sure my grandfather knew better, and as I grew up and learned to think for myself, I came to see the reality.

The Twelve-Year-Cycle Redux

/ Joe Broadmeadow / Leave a comment

Coming up on the twelve-year-cycle I wrote about here, https://joebroadmeadowblog.com/2019/01/24/an-american-twelve-year-memory-loss/, I wonder what 2028 will offer us?

The last time I wrote about this, 2016, we had just elected Trump to his first term. Somehow we survived, chose not to re-elect him to a second term, had four years of relative stability, then exhibited the most common symptom of insanity by repeating an action and expecting a different result.

I will give him this, we are not engaged in any active combat at the moment, but it would seem he desperately wants to try out the effectiveness of his renamed Secretary of War department by starting his own. (A bigly, better war. They say it’ll be the best war we ever had.)

We now find ourselves acting in the manner of enemies we long despised, where someone in the military chain of command orders a second strike to kill wounded combatants (I’ll grant the assumption for now, absent evidence to the contrary) in clear violation of the rules of engagement.

We have a President who supports the Secretary of War’s assertion that the decision for the second strike did not come from him, but from a field commander instead. This raises important questions about accountability and the chain of command in our military actions. There is no denial of the order. No announcement that this field commander has been relieved of duty pending an investigation. Nothing.

And keep in mind, while the designation of these alleged drug runners may be lawful, it does not mitigate the rules of engagement. Even if we assume the initial strike is lawful, no one has ever claimed these vessels posed a danger to the military assets engaged with them.

No one was shooting back at the Navy and one would be hard pressed to claim that two likely wounded men floating in the ocean posed any hazard to a 100,000 ton displacement aircraft carrier. They wouldn’t have even left a spot of the hull had they been run over by the ship (which would have been a less messy explanation of their demise.)

“Come to heading 250,”
“Aye aye sir,”
Bump!
“What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything”
“Sir, there’s a small red stain on the hull.”
“No worries, we’ll paint it later”

2028 is on the horizon. Let’s hope we regain our senses before then. A new President, not a recycled one, will (hopefully) take office. We have frightened the world enough for this cycle.