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The great unraveling of the Bush Administration’s politically abusive prosecution of Governor Siegelman has just started. The Department of Justice is still busy coming up with new variations on “the dog ate my homework” in response to the House Judiciary Committee’s demand for documents. There is a lot to come out in the next weeks. When the dust has settled, we’re going to see that the prosecutors’ claims that the entire process was run beginning to end by nonpolitical, career attorneys are complete lies. Instead, we will learn that the process was dictated by politicos from the beginning to the end. We will learn that there are very good reasons to question the impartiality of the judge handling the case (stay tuned here as they unfold over the next two weeks). And we’ll get more details on the role that Bill Pryor, Bill Canary and, yes, Karl Rove played in the entire tale. So we’re just at the beginning right now.
But even at the beginning, with the Gonzales Justice Department, the Alabama GOP and their allied media in spin-overdrive shoveling out disinformation, the people of Alabama are slowly coming to understand the abuse that has been done.
In fact, in an informal poll put out in today’s Birmingham Business Journal, a slender majority of Alabamians – 50% – express the view that Governor Siegelman was the victim of a politically selective prosecution.
When the whole story’s out in all its lurid detail, I expect we’ll see that number reach 70% or 80%. There will always be the residual 20%-30% who take their news from the B’ham News and who believe the earth is flat.
Bill Canary and his wife Leura, Karl Rove, Alberto Gonzales and the political connivers who pushed the persecution of Donald Siegelman “misunderestimated” something important: Alabamians still have a sense of justice. And they know political thuggery when they see it.
More from Scott Horton:
Six Questions — October 18, 2014, 8:00 pm
Nathaniel Raymond on CIA interrogation techniques.
Mark Denbeaux on the NCIS cover-up of three “suicides” at Guantánamo Bay Detention Camp
From the June 2014 issue
For the past three years my dosimeter had sat silently on a narrow shelf just inside the door of a house in Tokyo, upticking its final digit every twenty-four hours by one or two, the increase never failing — for radiation is the ruthless companion of time. Wherever we are, radiation finds and damages us, at best imperceptibly. During those three years, my American neighbors had lost sight of the accident at Fukushima. In March 2011, a tsunami had killed hundreds, or thousands; yes, they remembered that. Several also recollected the earthquake that caused it, but as for the hydrogen explosion and containment breach at Nuclear Plant No. 1, that must have been fixed by now — for its effluents no longer shone forth from our national news. Meanwhile, my dosimeter increased its figure, one or two digits per day, more or less as it would have in San Francisco — well, a trifle more, actually. And in Tokyo, as in San Francisco, people went about their business, except on Friday nights, when the stretch between the Kasumigaseki and Kokkai-Gijido-mae subway stations — half a dozen blocks of sidewalk, which commenced at an antinuclear tent that had already been on this spot for more than 900 days and ended at the prime minister’s lair — became a dim and feeble carnival of pamphleteers and Fukushima refugees peddling handicrafts.
One Friday evening, the refugees’ half of the sidewalk was demarcated by police barriers, and a line of officers slouched at ease in the street, some with yellow bullhorns hanging from their necks. At the very end of the street, where the National Diet glowed white and strange behind other buildings, a policeman set up a microphone, then deployed a small video camera in the direction of the muscular young people in drums against fascists jackets who now, at six-thirty sharp, began chanting: “We don’t need nuclear energy! Stop nuclear power plants! Stop them, stop them, stop them! No restart! No restart!” The police assumed a stiffer stance; the drumming and chanting were almost uncomfortably loud. Commuters hurried past along the open space between the police and the protesters, staring straight ahead, covering their ears. Finally, a fellow in a shabby sweater appeared, and murmured along with the chants as he rounded the corner. He was the only one who seemed to sympathize; few others reacted at all.
Number of U.S. congressional districts in which trade with China has produced more jobs than it has cost:
Young bilingual children who learned one language first are likelier than monolingual children and bilingual children who learned languages simultaneously to say that a dog adopted by owls will hoot.
An Oklahoma legislative committee voted to defund Advanced Placement U.S. History courses, accusing the curriculum of portraying the United States as “a nation of oppressors and exploiters.”
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“He could be one of a million beach-bound, black-socked Florida retirees, not the man who, by some odd happenstance of life, possesses the brain of Albert Einstein — literally cut it out of the dead scientist's head.”