Creation Science. Intelligent Design. Hokum? Science? Religion?
Watching the 1960 classic, Inherit the Wind, we cheer while Spencer Tracey attacks William Jennings Bryan, portraying him as backward and silly. Even though the actual trial occurred a mere 35 years earlier, somehow it had to be ancient history. Could people really have been that parochial in modern times? Well,
In 2005, the Scopes trial was replayed in Dover Pennsylvania. The Dover school board mandated that a 4-paragraph dissertation describing “Intelligent Design” as an alternative to evolution be presented in science classrooms. A number of teachers protested. Eleven parents filed suit against the school board through the ACLU for violation of their children’s civil rights. Click here for a transcript of the trial.
Actually, Scopes lost the 1925 case. But in 1987, in Edwards vs. Aguillard, the U. S. Supreme Court struck down “Scopes” and ruled that “Creationism” could not be taught in public schools. The Dover school board argued that Intelligent Design (I/D) is not “Creationism”, but a scientific field of study.
The case was heard by Judge John E. Jones, a Republican and George W. Bush appointee, and came down to the pivotal question: Is “Intelligent Design” science or religion? In a six-week trial the Thomas More Law Center (“The Sword and Shield for People of Faith”) defended the school board, with The Discovery Institute, the Seattle firm that coined the phrase ("Intelligent Design"), weighing in with “intellectual” support.
In the face of resistance from teachers, students and ultimately the board itself, the two members of the board who sponsored this measure secured a “text book” called Of Pandas and People for students who wished to pursue the claim. Fifty copies of the book had been “donated” by a benefactor, but were actually procured by the two board sponsors, who lied under oath to cover their involvement.
After 21 days of testimony Judge Jones found I/D’s case for science insubstantial and ruled against the school board. (Actual) intelligence prevailed in a small, Pennsylvania town in pursuit of a decent education for children in the face of a large population of religious dogmatists.
Robbinsence has condensed the argument for our readers’ consideration.
What is Science?
Science is the systematic study of natural phenomena.
The “scientific method” is to extrapolate a hypothesis to explain natural phenomena, leaving the theory to be disproved by the scientific community. It is important here to emphasize that the procedure is to disprove the theory---not to prove it. (It’s assumed that there is enough empirical evidence to advance the material as a theory, but “proof” is beyond the purview of science.) In order to qualify as “science”, a hypothesis must stand up to an effort to disprove it, and there must be a scientific manner by which to test it.
Christians who promote various theories of biology that fail to conform to evolutionary paradigms claim that their theory (under whatever name might be in fashion) is true. While it’s conceivable that their vision is in fact reality, this is not science. I/D advocates devote considerable energy to disproving evolution, leaving NO discernable body of research to explore their own theory, much less to try to disprove it. No one has yet arrived at a systematic or "scientific" manner to test or disprove God.
The “theory” of evolution, as proposed by Charles Darwin, in his treatise: On the Origin of Species, has survived 150 years of scrutiny. The entire science of “genetics”, which was beyond Darwin’s imagination, serves only to validate his far-reaching insight.
While Christians emphasize the “theory” aspect of the controversy, evolution is accepted by the scientific community as fact. There are a number of theories as to the driving mechanism behind evolution, including “natural selection” and “punctuated equilibrium”, but evolution is an accepted “scientific fact”. Note here the distinction between “fact” and “truth”. Science does not deal in “truth” or “reality”. It does not contend that The Big Bang theory, for example, is reality. But while reality is beyond the scope of science, it is the essence of religion. Christianity, applying its own system of “logic”, asserts that its description of nature is “the truth”, with The Bible is its body of “research”. This is not science.
While science deals with exploration of the unknown, religion is an exercise in basking in the “known” (the presumed). The two fields are virtual opposites. Exploring the unknown, requires an open mind and is sabbotaged by pre-conception. But by their own admission, I/D has no body of research, no actual “scientific methodology” at work in their pursuit of the truth. In fact, there’s no effort within the movement to expand knowledge about anything. “Inside” memos generated by the Discovery Institute and presented in the trial revealed that by their own admission, I/D “methodology” consists of “a bag of powerful intuitions” and “a handful of notions such as ‘irreducible complexity’”.
The argument over science or religion is a discussion on apples or oranges. They are too different to compare.
The closing chapter of the Dover trial has Judge Jones and his family put on 24-hour armed protection because of numerous death threats from good, sanctimonious Christians who didn’t like his verdict. The fact that these hateful, violent people have descended from the teachings of Jesus would be ample evidence of evolution in itself.
Next month: Who, or what, is God?
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Fightin' 81st
The Fightin’ 81st
by Randoid
I was a nineteen-year old airman stationed at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. Keesler was a training base for new recruits, and I was attending a technical school to become a microwave radio technician. There were thousands of new airmen on the base and most were like me, attending a technical school of one sort or another. The base was cut in two by an airstrip. The main base was located east of the airstrip and represented about 80% of the base acreage. The main base housed all the technical schools. The remaining part of the base was a triangular-shaped area to the west which was known as the Triangle. The Triangle was devoted to student housing and consisted of 12 or more large complexes or squadrons. Each squadron complex contained administrative offices, a chow hall, and a barracks for approximately 700-1,000 students. I was assigned to the 3381st Student Squadron, which just happened to be the squadron closest to the airstrip.
My job, as a student, was to attend my designated technical school 6 hours a day from 6 AM to noon, 5 days a week. However, with the Vietnam War in full bloom the wartime demand for qualified technicians was high. In order to fill that technical manpower gap, the powers-that-be wanted to speed up the graduation process so that we could make our contribution to the war effort as soon as possible. To that end, they came up two solutions. First, the students will attend classes in three shifts. A shift, will attend class from 6 AM to noon, B shift from noon to 6 PM, and C shift from 6 PM to midnight. Second, all students will now attend class 6 days a week. I was assigned to C shift. So now my job, as student, was to attend my designated technical school 6 hours a day from 6 PM to midnight, 6 days a week.
Most of the students in the 3381st were on the A shift and the B shift so the chow hall in my squadron was designated as an A and B shift chow hall. C shift students couldn’t eat there. I had to attend a C shift chow hall in another squadron about 500-600 yards down the road.
Every school day, which also happened to be most days, began at 5 PM as C shift students lined up for an inspection by our Squadron Commander and our Red Rope. The Red Rope, who was a student just like the rest of us, was sort of like a “prison trustee” in that he was responsible for our overall welfare when the Squadron Commander and First Sergeant were not around. In keeping with military tradition, he also had complete authority over us. Our Red Rope was named Richardson and he was a pretty good guy.
With the inspection completed, it was time to march to school. The 3381st had the “honor” of leading all the other Triangle squadrons across the flight line, past the reviewing stand, and on to our main base schools. Along the way, our squadron would sing marching songs and, in doing so, try to drown out the other squadrons who were trying to do the same thing.
After six hours of learning about electronics, it was midnight and school was finished for the day. Although it was midnight, it had also been at least eight hours since our last meal and most of us were too hungry to be tired. Now it was time to march back across the flight line, past our barracks, and onto a C shift chow hall.
A long time ago back in the afternoon, we were the first squadron to march across the flight line in going to school. But now, at midnight, the order is reversed and we are the last squadron to march back across the flight line. This resulted in the 3381st being the last squadron to be fed, which was bad enough, but wait! It gets worse! Occasionally, the chow hall would run out of food, or to be more exact, the designated meal. For example, every other squadron would dine on roast beef and mashed potatoes but that would be long gone by the time the 3381st showed up at a quarter to one in the morning. The cooks, being basically unimaginative and pissed off to be working that late, would boil potatoes and canned hot dogs for us. To make matters worse we usually had to wait for that.
Well, what started off as an occasional chow hall problem soon became a frequent chow hall problem. We were eating boiled canned hot dogs 2 to 3 days a week. I remember that the hot dogs were a grayish color! Gray! Complaints to the chow hall supervisor and our Squadron Commander fell on deaf ears.
Each day around 10 AM all C shift students would gather for PT or physical training led by our Red Rope. One day, after another canned hot dog dinner, the PT session became a forum for complaints about the food. The complaints grew louder and louder and finally Richardson, in exasperation, asked, “What the hell can I do? We’ve talked to our commander and the chow hall supervisor and it doesn’t seem to matter.” The crowd fell silent for a moment but that was just long enough for one unidentified voice to say, “Let’s go down there this afternoon and wreck that fucking chow hall.”
The C shift students let out a huge cheer of approval as they looked to their Red Rope for guidance. Richardson, the right man for the right time shouted, “Let’s do it!” Now, drunk with power, he whipped the mob into a frenzy. “Assemble at 3 PM for the afternoon meal,” he screamed, “and we’ll go down there and wreck that fucking chow hall!”
3 PM rolled around and we marched down to the chow hall. We entered the building in single file to collect our trays, plates, and silverware on our way to the steam tables. It’s tough for a couple of hundred guys to keep a secret for 5 hours and you could see it in the cook’s faces. They knew something was up and eyed us warily as we shuffled through the serving line. I was with my good friends Greg Bonzer and Chuck Corne, and there were about 20 guys in front of us in the line. Much to our surprise the guys moved through the serving line without incident. There was plenty of tension in the air but so far no one had started anything. Corne picked up a plate, stared at it for a second or two, and then hurled it to the tile floor where it shattered into smithereens. Thanks to Corne the game was now on. Bonzer and I smashed our plates too!
Then we got new plates and headed through the serving line. The cooks, dumbfounded at this display, didn’t know what to do so they did the only thing they knew how to do – they gave us our food. Guys continued to pass through the serving line as the stunned cooks served up more and more food. Meanwhile, the sound of breaking plates could be heard in the background. Soon a full-fledged food fight was on, except everyone was throwing their food at walls, under tables, on top of tables, all over the chairs, etc. In only a few minutes the chow hall was in shambles. Our mission completed, we marched back to our squadron to get ready for school.
With another open rank inspection completed we took our usual position leading the other squadrons across the flight line. We began to march but were soon surrounded by several trucks full of Air Police. They diverted us from the flight line to a nearby grassy area. Our squadron commander was there to greet us and he wasn’t happy. There were several other officers there as well, presumably on hand to get in on the ass-chewing that were about to receive. Our immediate punishment was that there would be no school for us this night. What, this is punishment!? We had to return to our barracks where we were under house arrest! Wow, I thought! I’m under arrest!
The next day we found what else they had in store for us. Richardson, of course, lost his rope. He was about to graduate so I don’t think he gave a damn. As for the rest of us, we were under house arrest for the next 10 days. We could leave the barracks only to attend school and to go to the chow hall, but only under the watchful eye of the police. Once at the chow hall we had to revert to basic training rules where we stood at attention, even through the serving line, and were forbidden to talk. News of our uprising soon spread and as were marched to and from the chow hall under guard, students from neighboring squadrons waved and cheered us from their windows.
With our arrest period was over, we lost our police guard and were now free to speak and move about in the Triangle. We soon discovered that our food rebellion turned us into instant celebrities. Someone in the group came up with this song which we sang lustily on our way to school, and more importantly, to the chow hall.
“Everywhere we go-oh,
People want to know-oh,
Who-o we are,
So-o we tell them,
We are the 81st,
The chow hall bustin’ 81st,
We go to school to read our books,
And all we do is fight with cooks.”
Randoid is a Robbinsense staff writier and a Carpinteria Taler
by Randoid
I was a nineteen-year old airman stationed at Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. Keesler was a training base for new recruits, and I was attending a technical school to become a microwave radio technician. There were thousands of new airmen on the base and most were like me, attending a technical school of one sort or another. The base was cut in two by an airstrip. The main base was located east of the airstrip and represented about 80% of the base acreage. The main base housed all the technical schools. The remaining part of the base was a triangular-shaped area to the west which was known as the Triangle. The Triangle was devoted to student housing and consisted of 12 or more large complexes or squadrons. Each squadron complex contained administrative offices, a chow hall, and a barracks for approximately 700-1,000 students. I was assigned to the 3381st Student Squadron, which just happened to be the squadron closest to the airstrip.
My job, as a student, was to attend my designated technical school 6 hours a day from 6 AM to noon, 5 days a week. However, with the Vietnam War in full bloom the wartime demand for qualified technicians was high. In order to fill that technical manpower gap, the powers-that-be wanted to speed up the graduation process so that we could make our contribution to the war effort as soon as possible. To that end, they came up two solutions. First, the students will attend classes in three shifts. A shift, will attend class from 6 AM to noon, B shift from noon to 6 PM, and C shift from 6 PM to midnight. Second, all students will now attend class 6 days a week. I was assigned to C shift. So now my job, as student, was to attend my designated technical school 6 hours a day from 6 PM to midnight, 6 days a week.
Most of the students in the 3381st were on the A shift and the B shift so the chow hall in my squadron was designated as an A and B shift chow hall. C shift students couldn’t eat there. I had to attend a C shift chow hall in another squadron about 500-600 yards down the road.
Every school day, which also happened to be most days, began at 5 PM as C shift students lined up for an inspection by our Squadron Commander and our Red Rope. The Red Rope, who was a student just like the rest of us, was sort of like a “prison trustee” in that he was responsible for our overall welfare when the Squadron Commander and First Sergeant were not around. In keeping with military tradition, he also had complete authority over us. Our Red Rope was named Richardson and he was a pretty good guy.
With the inspection completed, it was time to march to school. The 3381st had the “honor” of leading all the other Triangle squadrons across the flight line, past the reviewing stand, and on to our main base schools. Along the way, our squadron would sing marching songs and, in doing so, try to drown out the other squadrons who were trying to do the same thing.
After six hours of learning about electronics, it was midnight and school was finished for the day. Although it was midnight, it had also been at least eight hours since our last meal and most of us were too hungry to be tired. Now it was time to march back across the flight line, past our barracks, and onto a C shift chow hall.
A long time ago back in the afternoon, we were the first squadron to march across the flight line in going to school. But now, at midnight, the order is reversed and we are the last squadron to march back across the flight line. This resulted in the 3381st being the last squadron to be fed, which was bad enough, but wait! It gets worse! Occasionally, the chow hall would run out of food, or to be more exact, the designated meal. For example, every other squadron would dine on roast beef and mashed potatoes but that would be long gone by the time the 3381st showed up at a quarter to one in the morning. The cooks, being basically unimaginative and pissed off to be working that late, would boil potatoes and canned hot dogs for us. To make matters worse we usually had to wait for that.
Well, what started off as an occasional chow hall problem soon became a frequent chow hall problem. We were eating boiled canned hot dogs 2 to 3 days a week. I remember that the hot dogs were a grayish color! Gray! Complaints to the chow hall supervisor and our Squadron Commander fell on deaf ears.
Each day around 10 AM all C shift students would gather for PT or physical training led by our Red Rope. One day, after another canned hot dog dinner, the PT session became a forum for complaints about the food. The complaints grew louder and louder and finally Richardson, in exasperation, asked, “What the hell can I do? We’ve talked to our commander and the chow hall supervisor and it doesn’t seem to matter.” The crowd fell silent for a moment but that was just long enough for one unidentified voice to say, “Let’s go down there this afternoon and wreck that fucking chow hall.”
The C shift students let out a huge cheer of approval as they looked to their Red Rope for guidance. Richardson, the right man for the right time shouted, “Let’s do it!” Now, drunk with power, he whipped the mob into a frenzy. “Assemble at 3 PM for the afternoon meal,” he screamed, “and we’ll go down there and wreck that fucking chow hall!”
3 PM rolled around and we marched down to the chow hall. We entered the building in single file to collect our trays, plates, and silverware on our way to the steam tables. It’s tough for a couple of hundred guys to keep a secret for 5 hours and you could see it in the cook’s faces. They knew something was up and eyed us warily as we shuffled through the serving line. I was with my good friends Greg Bonzer and Chuck Corne, and there were about 20 guys in front of us in the line. Much to our surprise the guys moved through the serving line without incident. There was plenty of tension in the air but so far no one had started anything. Corne picked up a plate, stared at it for a second or two, and then hurled it to the tile floor where it shattered into smithereens. Thanks to Corne the game was now on. Bonzer and I smashed our plates too!
Then we got new plates and headed through the serving line. The cooks, dumbfounded at this display, didn’t know what to do so they did the only thing they knew how to do – they gave us our food. Guys continued to pass through the serving line as the stunned cooks served up more and more food. Meanwhile, the sound of breaking plates could be heard in the background. Soon a full-fledged food fight was on, except everyone was throwing their food at walls, under tables, on top of tables, all over the chairs, etc. In only a few minutes the chow hall was in shambles. Our mission completed, we marched back to our squadron to get ready for school.
With another open rank inspection completed we took our usual position leading the other squadrons across the flight line. We began to march but were soon surrounded by several trucks full of Air Police. They diverted us from the flight line to a nearby grassy area. Our squadron commander was there to greet us and he wasn’t happy. There were several other officers there as well, presumably on hand to get in on the ass-chewing that were about to receive. Our immediate punishment was that there would be no school for us this night. What, this is punishment!? We had to return to our barracks where we were under house arrest! Wow, I thought! I’m under arrest!
The next day we found what else they had in store for us. Richardson, of course, lost his rope. He was about to graduate so I don’t think he gave a damn. As for the rest of us, we were under house arrest for the next 10 days. We could leave the barracks only to attend school and to go to the chow hall, but only under the watchful eye of the police. Once at the chow hall we had to revert to basic training rules where we stood at attention, even through the serving line, and were forbidden to talk. News of our uprising soon spread and as were marched to and from the chow hall under guard, students from neighboring squadrons waved and cheered us from their windows.
With our arrest period was over, we lost our police guard and were now free to speak and move about in the Triangle. We soon discovered that our food rebellion turned us into instant celebrities. Someone in the group came up with this song which we sang lustily on our way to school, and more importantly, to the chow hall.
“Everywhere we go-oh,
People want to know-oh,
Who-o we are,
So-o we tell them,
We are the 81st,
The chow hall bustin’ 81st,
We go to school to read our books,
And all we do is fight with cooks.”
Randoid is a Robbinsense staff writier and a Carpinteria Taler
Saturday, April 4, 2009
On the State Budget
I’m not an anti-government dogmatist, but I can see that government is the problem in our state budget crisis. The budget impasse, which may or may not have been temporarily resolved, could be relieved quickly. Any combination of a few of the following matters might solve the problem.
1) Abolish the state senate. Our legislature is a relic left over from 18th century British Parliament. The British legislature, comprised by the House of Commons and House of Lords, was designed to give voice to the interests of "commoners", while still providing and preserving the prerogatives of aristocracy. The so-called “tyranny of the majority” was a pressing concern carried over from the British system among the (essentially American) aristocracy that drew up our government between 1787 and 1789 We might argue over the necessity of this duality in our national legislature, but I doubt you will find many to contend that it’s necessary in California government. While the makeup of the U.S. Senate (comprised of two senators per state) is different from that of the house (population based), there is no such distinction in the state legislature. Both houses are population-based. While they have different districts, both cover the entire population.
We have two separate houses, each with its own mini-fiefdoms, both trying to accomplish the same tasks, both covering the same population---both playing off each other---both “protecting” their own turf---both with their own sets of staff---both with their own bureaucracy---and neither performing diddly-squat! In case you haven’t noticed, the lion’s share of real law making in this state is thrown back to us through initiative and proposition. This is largely because the legislature shuns serious law-making, which is a potential threat to re-election. Re-election is their primary concern. The bi-cameral legislature significantly magnifies the gridlock and in the process costs billions to support its bloated bureaucracy.
I regret to say that Robbinsense staffers have been unable to untangle the mass of state budget and finance in order to report the cost of the legislature. Hours spent on the internet proved fruitless. I tried to contact the State Comptroller, but he failed to respond to my inquiry. We can be certain that the annual savings would be in the billions.
The major, and pressing, question about this measure is, “How do we do it?” We can’t expect the legislature to put themselves out of work, when their primary imperative is to keep themselves in place! It must be done through constitutional amendment. Co-incidentally, our governor in the last couple of months has been advocating just that!
With nearly 500 amendments, our constitution is the 2nd largest in the nation. (The US Constitution has only 27 amendments.) Our first constitutional convention occurred in 1849. Forty-eight delegates hammered out a sensible document in six weeks. The second convened in 1878. This convention planted the seed of our problems by disempowering the legislature. This vastly increased the size of the constitution while presenting the legislature with excuses for not doing their job. In 1911, the mischief which began forty years earlier was codified by inaugurating the initiative, recall and referendum.
After 100 years, it’s time to get serious. The Gubernator’s agenda is notably light-weight, comprised of small measures like tying the Lieutenant Governor to the governor (rather than having a separate election). But anything that will get the show moving will be worthwhile. Now, we need a movement and a deep-pocketed angel. Anyone?
2) Legalize drugs, including marijuana, opiates, cocaine (but not methamphetamines, please.) This would save the state billions in law enforcement, empty out prisons, bring in billions in tax revenue, lower the cost of drugs, put an end to the drug wars raging in Mexico and end the reign of terror that we impose on countries all over the world by hypocritically demanding drugs on one hand, while pressuring them to stop supplying our demand on the other. If the U. S. Government doesn’t like this move, let them enforce their laws through the FBI and Federal court system. The amount of money saved by this measure is vast, and could easily solve the budget problem alone; but there are large political interests in preserving the status quo. We have an enormous law enforcement industry, for example, which is largely dependent upon existing drug laws.
3) Repeal the politically motivated “3 strikes” law ending the senseless, judicial and correctional burdens that it places upon our criminal justice system.
4) Scuttle Term Limits. This is bad legislation to begin with, as it places greater restrictions on our ability to govern ourselves than it imposes upon the legislators. It keeps the legislature occupied by inexperienced representatives.
5) Return approval of state budget to a simple majority. This prevents a small group from being able to stymie sensible budget measures and reforms.
Politics is the one significant issue that stands between a balanced budget and our current mess. We tolerate this mess; and with our system of government, we deserve it. Engage!
Note: We asked Jackson Dave to weigh in on this issue, and his piece will appear next month. Jack sees this issue through a simpler lens.
1) Abolish the state senate. Our legislature is a relic left over from 18th century British Parliament. The British legislature, comprised by the House of Commons and House of Lords, was designed to give voice to the interests of "commoners", while still providing and preserving the prerogatives of aristocracy. The so-called “tyranny of the majority” was a pressing concern carried over from the British system among the (essentially American) aristocracy that drew up our government between 1787 and 1789 We might argue over the necessity of this duality in our national legislature, but I doubt you will find many to contend that it’s necessary in California government. While the makeup of the U.S. Senate (comprised of two senators per state) is different from that of the house (population based), there is no such distinction in the state legislature. Both houses are population-based. While they have different districts, both cover the entire population.
We have two separate houses, each with its own mini-fiefdoms, both trying to accomplish the same tasks, both covering the same population---both playing off each other---both “protecting” their own turf---both with their own sets of staff---both with their own bureaucracy---and neither performing diddly-squat! In case you haven’t noticed, the lion’s share of real law making in this state is thrown back to us through initiative and proposition. This is largely because the legislature shuns serious law-making, which is a potential threat to re-election. Re-election is their primary concern. The bi-cameral legislature significantly magnifies the gridlock and in the process costs billions to support its bloated bureaucracy.
I regret to say that Robbinsense staffers have been unable to untangle the mass of state budget and finance in order to report the cost of the legislature. Hours spent on the internet proved fruitless. I tried to contact the State Comptroller, but he failed to respond to my inquiry. We can be certain that the annual savings would be in the billions.
The major, and pressing, question about this measure is, “How do we do it?” We can’t expect the legislature to put themselves out of work, when their primary imperative is to keep themselves in place! It must be done through constitutional amendment. Co-incidentally, our governor in the last couple of months has been advocating just that!
With nearly 500 amendments, our constitution is the 2nd largest in the nation. (The US Constitution has only 27 amendments.) Our first constitutional convention occurred in 1849. Forty-eight delegates hammered out a sensible document in six weeks. The second convened in 1878. This convention planted the seed of our problems by disempowering the legislature. This vastly increased the size of the constitution while presenting the legislature with excuses for not doing their job. In 1911, the mischief which began forty years earlier was codified by inaugurating the initiative, recall and referendum.
After 100 years, it’s time to get serious. The Gubernator’s agenda is notably light-weight, comprised of small measures like tying the Lieutenant Governor to the governor (rather than having a separate election). But anything that will get the show moving will be worthwhile. Now, we need a movement and a deep-pocketed angel. Anyone?
2) Legalize drugs, including marijuana, opiates, cocaine (but not methamphetamines, please.) This would save the state billions in law enforcement, empty out prisons, bring in billions in tax revenue, lower the cost of drugs, put an end to the drug wars raging in Mexico and end the reign of terror that we impose on countries all over the world by hypocritically demanding drugs on one hand, while pressuring them to stop supplying our demand on the other. If the U. S. Government doesn’t like this move, let them enforce their laws through the FBI and Federal court system. The amount of money saved by this measure is vast, and could easily solve the budget problem alone; but there are large political interests in preserving the status quo. We have an enormous law enforcement industry, for example, which is largely dependent upon existing drug laws.
3) Repeal the politically motivated “3 strikes” law ending the senseless, judicial and correctional burdens that it places upon our criminal justice system.
4) Scuttle Term Limits. This is bad legislation to begin with, as it places greater restrictions on our ability to govern ourselves than it imposes upon the legislators. It keeps the legislature occupied by inexperienced representatives.
5) Return approval of state budget to a simple majority. This prevents a small group from being able to stymie sensible budget measures and reforms.
Politics is the one significant issue that stands between a balanced budget and our current mess. We tolerate this mess; and with our system of government, we deserve it. Engage!
Note: We asked Jackson Dave to weigh in on this issue, and his piece will appear next month. Jack sees this issue through a simpler lens.
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