Tom Wolfe-Fashionista Of His Own Kind-And A Hell Of A Writer When The Deal Went Down Has Cashed His Check -The 50th Anniversary Of The Summer Of Love,1967- Hunter S.Thompson-The "Gonzo" King Near The End

Tom Wolfe-Fashionista Of His Own Kind-And A Hell Of A Writer When The Deal Went Down Has Cashed His Check

By Bart Webber

I had been, strangely enough, in La Jolla out in California attending yet another writers’ conference which seems to be the makings of my days these days, attending writers’ conferences that is instead of taking pen to paper or rather fingers to word processor keyboard, when I heard Tom Wolfe had cashed his check. “Cashed his check” a term (along with synonymous “cashed his ticket”) grabbed from memory bank as a term used when I was “on the bum” hanging out in hobo jungle camps and the whole trail of flop houses and Salvation Army digs to signify that a kindred had passed to the great beyond. Was now resting in some better place that a stinking stew-bitten, flea –bitten, foul-aired and foul-person place. No more worries about the next flop, the next jug of cheapjack wine, the next run-in with vicious coppers and railroad bulls, and the next guy who was ready to rip whatever you had off to feed his own sullen addiction.

By the way this is not Thomas Wolfe of You Can’t Go Home Again, Look Homeward, Angels, etc. but the writer, maybe journalist is a better way to put the matter of tons of interesting stuff from acid trips in the 1960s hanging with Ken Kesey and his various tribes of merry pranksters, the Hell’s Angels, drifters, grifters and midnight sifters, to marveled space flights in the 1970s to Wall Street in the reckless 1980 and back who had cashed his check. The strange part of the “strangely enough” mentioned above was that on Monday May 14^th 2018, the day he died, I was walking along La Jolla Cove and commenting to my companion without knowing his fate that Tom Wolfe had made the La Jolla surfing scene in the early 1960s come alive with his tale of the Pump House Gang and related stories about the restless California tribes, you know those Hell’s Angels, Valley hot-rod freaks and the like who parents had migrated west from dustbowl Okies and Arkies to start a new life out in Eden. These next generation though lost in a thousand angsts and alienation not having to fight for every breath of fresh air (with the exception of the Angels who might as well have stayed in the Okies and McAllister Prison which would have been their fate.   

I don’t know how Tom Wolfe did at the end as a writer, or toward the end, when things seemed to glaze over and became very homogenized, lacked the verve of hard ass 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s times. Although I do note that he did a very although I note he did an interesting take on the cultural life at the Army base at Fort Bragg down in North Carolina in a book of essays around the theme of hooking up. That hooking up angle a sign that social cohesiveness in the age of the Internet was creating some strange rituals. Know this those pound for pound in his prime he along with Hunter Thompson could write the sociology of the land with simple flair and kept this guy, me, flipping the pages in the wee hours of the morning. RIP, Tom Wolfe, RIP.  

The 50th Anniversary Of The Summer Of Love,1967- Hunter S.Thompson-The "Gonzo" King Near The End

Zack James’ comment June, 2017:

Maybe it says something about the times we live in, or maybe in this instance happenstance or, hell maybe something in the water but certain things sort of dovetail every now and again. I initially started this commentary segment after having written a longest piece for my brother and his friends as part of a small tribute booklet they were putting together about my and their takes on the Summer of Love, 1967. That event that my brother, Alex, had been knee deep in had always interested me from afar since I was way too young to have appreciated what was happening in San Francisco in those Wild West days. What got him motivated to do the booklet had been an exhibit at the de Young Art Museum in Golden Gate Park where they were celebrating the 50^th anniversary of the events of that summer with a look at the music, fashion, photography and exquisite poster art which was created then just as vivid advertising for concerts and “happenings” but which now is legitimate artful expression.

That project subsequently got me started thinking about the late Hunter Thompson, Doctor Gonzo, the driving force behind a new way of looking at and presenting journalism which was really much closer to the nub of what real reporting was about. Initially I was interested in some of Thompson’s reportage on what was what in San Francisco as he touched the elbows of those times having spent a fair amount of time working on his seminal book on the Hell’s Angels while all hell was breaking out in Frisco town. Delved into with all hands and legs the high points and the low, the ebb which he located somewhere between the Chicago Democratic Convention fiasco of the summer of 1968 and the hellish Rollins Stones Altamont concert of 1969.     

Here is what is important today though, about how the dots get connected out of seemingly random occurrences. Hunter Thompson also made his mark as a searing no holds barred mano y mano reporter of the rise and fall, of the worthy demise of one Richard Milhous Nixon at one time President of the United States and a common low-life criminal of ill-repute. Needless to say today, the summer of 2107, in the age of one Donald Trump, another President of the United States and common low-life criminal begs the obvious question of what the sorely missed Doctor Gonzo would have made of the whole process of the self-destruction of another American presidency, or a damn good run at self-destruction. So today and maybe occasionally in the future there will be some intertwining of commentary about events fifty years ago and today. Below to catch readers up to speed is the most recent “homage” to Hunter Thompson. And you too I hope will ask the pertinent question. Hunter where are you when we need, desperately need, you.       

*******

Zack James comment, Summer of 2017 

You know it is in a way too bad that “Doctor Gonzo”-Hunter S Thompson, the late legendary journalist who broke the back, hell broke the neck, legs, arms of so-called objective journalism in a drug-blazed frenzy back in the 1970s when he “walked with the king”’ is not with us in these times. (Walking with the king not about walking with any king or Doctor King but being so high on drugs, your choice, that commin clay experiences fall by the way side. In the times of this 50^th anniversary commemoration of the Summer of Love, 1967 which he worked the edges of while he was doing research (live and in your face research by the way) on the notorious West Coast-based Hell’s Angels. His “hook” through Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters down in Kesey’s place in La Honda where many an “acid test” took place, where many walked with the king, if you prefer, and where for a time the Angels, Hunter in tow, were welcomed. He had been there in the high tide, when it looked like we had the night-takers on the run and later as well when he saw the ebb tide of the 1960s coming a year or so later although that did not stop him from developing the quintessential “gonzo” journalism fine-tuned with plenty of dope for which he would become famous before the end, before he took his aging life and left Johnny Depp and company to fling his ashes over this good green planet. He would have “dug” the exhibition, maybe smoked a joint for old times’ sake (oh no, no that is not done in proper society, in high art society these days) at the de Young Museum at the Golden Gate Park highlighting the events of the period showing until August 20^th of this year.   

Better yet he would have had this Trump thug bizarre weirdness wrapped up and bleeding from all pores just like he regaled us with the tales from the White House bunker back in the days when Trump’s kindred one Richard Milhous Nixon, President of the United States and common criminal was running the same low rent trip before he was run out of town by his own like some rabid rat. He would have gone crazy seeing all the crew deserting the sinking U.S.S. Trump with guys like fired FBI Director Comey going to Capitol Hill and saying out loud the emperor has no clothes and would not know the truth if it grabbed him by the throat. Every day would be a feast day. But perhaps the road to truth these days, in the days of “alternate facts” and assorted other bullshit would have been bumpier than in those more “civilized” times when simple burglaries and silly tape-recorders ruled the roost. Hunter did not make the Nixon “hit list” (to his everlasting regret for which he could hardly hold his head up in public) but these days he surely would find himself in the top echelon. Maybe too though with these thugs who like their forbears would stop at nothing he might have found himself in some back alley bleeding from all pores. Hunter Thompson wherever you are –help. Selah. Enough said-for now  

BOOK REVIEW

Kingdom of Fear, Hunter S. Thompson, Penguin, New York, 2004

Make no mistake the late, lamented Hunter Thompson was always something of a muse for me going way back to the early 1970's when I first read his seminal work on outlaw bikers, The Hell's Angels. Since then I have devoured, and re-devoured virtually everything that he has written. I have reviewed many of those efforts elsewhere in this space. As I noted recently in reviewing his 2004 work Hey, Rube, a screed on the misadventures of a gambling freak (himself), not all his efforts have been equally compelling. That was the case in my panning of Hey, Rube but here we are back on much more solid `gonzo' style from the old days. Maybe it is because this work is in the form of a memoir and thus intentionally places the good Doc's actions in the center of the writing that puts this effort in the mold of his better compilations like the Great Shark Hunt and Songs of the Doomed.

Thompson uses his patented stream of consciousness trope to create amusing stories starting from the then present (early 2000's) and his then current doings and splices them together, in some segments randomly, to events as far back as his childhood in Louisville, Kentucky. Along the way we find him at age nine in trouble with the FBI, and none the worst for the confrontation. Later, it is down and dirty in Rio with the crazies. Throughout, we find him incessantly testing his beloved guns and various ‘hot’ motorcycles at various and sundry appropriate and inappropriate times.

Additionally, we have some compelling and insightful stories as this radical journalist tours the news breaking global spots, taking trips to places like Vietnam just before the fall, Cuba, Grenada just after the invasion and elsewhere wherever the journalistic action might be and a story, in the Thompson style, might develop. Needless to say there is plenty of ink about sex, drugs and rock and rock including his deeply affecting and traumatic tangle with the law in Aspen the early 1990's. That, my friends, was a close call.

And throughout, as usual, there are pithy political comments about the various idiots-in-chiefs, their henchmen and hangers-on that he spent his life hammering. Maybe not hammering your way, definitely not my way, but his way. His fateful run for Sheriff of Aspen on the Freak Power ticket in 1970 probably accurately set the tone as a lifelong description of his politics. For those who have read other works by Thompson some of the signature language may be old hat as he meanders along in this volume. For others it is a chance to learn the lingo. Damn, especially this election year, I miss him. Read on.

*From The Pages Of "Workers Vanguard"-On The "War On Terror"

Click on the title to link to an on line copy of the "Workers Vanguard" article on the subject mentioned in the headline.

From "Occupy Boston"- March 15th Rally to Stop 3-Strikes Laws in Massachusetts!

Click on the headline to link to an Occupy Boston announcement of the rally in the title of this entry.

From "Time" Magazine-Why I Protest: Javier Sicilia of Mexico

TIME
Wednesday, Dec. 14, 2011

Why I Protest: Javier Sicilia of Mexico

By Tim Padgett / Mexico City

When Javier Sicilia's 24-year-old son, health-administration student Juan Francisco, was brutally killed by drug traffickers in March, it was headline-grabbing news, because Sicilia, 55, is one of Mexico's best-known authors and poets. But the tragedy made Sicilia realize how all too anonymous most of the 50,000 victims of Mexico's bloody drug war have been. Believing that President Felipe Calderon's five-year-long military campaign against Mexico's narcocartels has simply exacerbated the violence, he created the Movement for Peace with Justice and Dignity — which is informally and popularly called Hasta la Madre! or Fed Up! - to push for a stop to the mafia bloodshed and for new anticrime strategies and reforms. The ranks of its rallies and marches quickly grew from hundreds to hundreds of thousands, culminating in a June caravan through a dozen cities, where families held up pictures of slain relatives. By giving names, faces and voices to Mexico's drug-war dead, Sicilia helped prod Calderon to a conference at Mexico City's Chapultepec Castle over the summer to discuss the kind of modern judicial institutions and social investment that Mexico's political class has too long ignored — but which may be the only way to end Mexico's narco-nightmare.

Sicilia, a left-leaning, spiritual Roman Catholic (aside from his mystical poetry, he's written a novel about John the Baptist), still looks the owlish, bearded bohemian he was at the outset of his campaign. He talked in Mexico City with TIME's Latin America bureau chief, Tim Padgett, about turning personal horror into national hope:

"I got the awful news about Juan Francisco's murder while I was at a conference in the Philippines. When I got to Cuernavaca [the Mexican town south of Mexico City where his son and six friends had been tortured and killed by gangsters who were angry that two of the young men had reported members of their gang to police] I was i a lot of emotional pain. But when

I arrived at the crematorium I had to deal with the media. I asked the reporters to have some respect; I told them I'd meet them the next day in the city plaza. When I got there I found they'd put a table [for a press conference] out for me, and I realized this was going to be bigger than I'd anticipated.

"I had never thought of starting a movement or being a spokesman for anything. I'm a poet, and poets are better known for working with more obscure intuitions. But in those moments I was reminded that the life of the soul can be powerful too. My chief intuition then was that we had to give name and form to this tragedy and somehow put that into action with real citizens as a way to tell the government, 'We need something new, especially new institutions to fight our lawlessness and corruption and impunity, not just that of the drug cartels but the state.'

"Mexico has a long history of mobilizing, from the revolution to the demonstrations of 1968 to the Zapatista uprising [of 1994]. Confronting our security crisis, the murders and the kidnappings and the extortion, was more difficult. But like any mobilization, we had to reach the middle class and place the deaths and disappearances in the national consciousness — make visible the face of our national pain. The drug-war statistics were hiding those faces; the powers that be were trying to tell us that all those who were dying were just criminals, just cockroaches. We had to change that mind-set and put names to the victims for a change. And that meant the criminal dead as well as the innocent dead like Juan Francisco. We also have to focus on the poverty and the lack of economic opportunity that helps breed the criminality.

"So that first Sunday after Juan Francisco's death I issued an open letter to the nation's politicians, and I said, 'Estamos hasta la madre!' ("We've had it up to here!") I was surprised by the reaction it got, but I shouldn't have been. On the one hand, yes, hasfa la madre is Mexican slang, but it has a very religious component as well. The mother, like the Virgin of Guadalupe [Mexico's Roman Catholic patroness], is sacred. To say you're hasra la madre means they've insulted our mother protector; they've committed a sacrilege. It's very strong, very Mexican, but very poetic too in its own way. Anyway, it resonated in ways that exceeded my expectations.

"The most memorable day, then, turned out to be the first march from Cuernavaca to Mexico City in May. It seemed we started out with about 200 people and by the time we got to the Zocalo [main plaza] here in the capital we had more than 100,000.1 remember coming into Mexico City, near the UNAM [National Autonomous University of Mexico] and hearing them performing Mozart's "Requiem" in one of the university's buildings. But then in the Zocalo you could feel the promise of life again. It felt like the civic miracle we needed.

"Still, the movement's success surprised me quite a bit. My intention at the beginning was just to signal the horror of the crimes being committed as well as the government's faulty reaction to it. I did only what my heart was telling me to do. It was a great surprise to me to see the national response. As a Catholic I think a lot about grace, and this was as surprising as the arrival of God's grace. You don't expect it, but it was like the answer to my pain. It eased the pain of my son's death.

"One of the most gratifying moments occurred [during the conference] at Chapultepec Castle, when President Calderon met a woman named Maria Elena Herrera, from Calderon's home state of Michoacan, whose four sons disappeared after being abducted by gangsters. The President hugged her, and I could see he was shaken by her experience. I saw his recognition that the victims are human beings and not statistics. I saw his face of pain, and in that moment the President himself became more humanized to me.

The most disappointing thing was what happened at the end of the caravan at [the northern border city of] Juarez, [which today has the world's highest murder rate], when leftist groups tried to hijack the movement for their own political agendas. [The groups, for example, tried to get the movement to insist that Calderon remove all troops from Mexico's Streets, something even Sicilia knew was an impractical and irresponsible demand.] It threatened to drain the force of the movement. It showed me that a protest can't be overly ideological if it's going to be successful.

"The other disappointing thing was gaining a better appreciation of the cluelessness of Mexico's political class regarding the violence crisis. They did begin to make some reform-legislation movements this past year, but deep down I don't feel as if they've really thought about how to fight the cartels in a more effective and less deadly way. I fear we're going into [general] elections next year without that consciousness, without really acknowledging the magnitude of the problem Mexico faces.

"One of the most memorable persons I got to know was Julian Lebaron, [a Mormon farmer from the border state of Chihuahua whose anticrime-activist brother, Benjamin, was murdered in 2009 by gangsters]. I remember one day during the caravan I was trying to put a plaque with names on a memorial to murder victims, and I was using the screwdriver very clumsily, as you'd expect from a poet. Julian came over and said, 'Javier, get your pen and give me the screwdriver.' His speeches during the caravan rallies were like that: very brief but strong and direct.

"That Mormon became a very important symbol for the movement. There was one dangerous moment in Durango, in the plaza there, when armed and masked men showed up at our demonstration. Lebaron took the microphone and said, 'If there are any killers here among us, please raise your hands.' The masked men left. Julian told the crowd, You see, when a country unites it creates less space for criminals.'

"A successful protest movement needs humor too. Once, we were on a dangerous stretch of road near Coatzacoalcos, in Tabasco [state], where narcos were known to abduct people at roadblocks. At one roadblock we thought gangsters were going to board our bus and perhaps kill us. One of our companions said he had a m'do [nest] in his throat; I said, 'Don't you mean a nudo [knot]?' He said, 'No, a nido because I'm so scared right now I've got my two huevos de pajaro (bird's eggs, slang for testicles) up there.' No gangsters boarded the bus, fortunately, but our friend's joke relieved the tension. Humor helps to make the weight of death more relative.

"I can't say that other protests this year had a big influence on us. It's obvious there's a civic miracle going on in certain parts of the world, especially the Middle East. But I don't think I and others in this movement were really inspired by anything other than our own pain and suffering. In my case, my heart was simply responding to my son's death more than to anything going on in the Arab Spring.

"I think the greatest change the movement produced was that we made the [drug war's] victims' names and faces visible — we reclaimed the victims, put the photos of them smiling before all this horror hit us into the national consciousness. We made the rest of Mexico recognize that we have a national emergency to confront, and we got the nation and its families together to question how the government was confronting it.

"For me personally, it made my faith even deeper — made it naked for the first time in my life. It made the mediation of religion more real than ever for me. I do think the poetry of Hasta la Madre! helped make the mobilization more possible. It's a bit like the idea of prophecy in the Judeo-Christian tradition, a voice speaking out inside the tribe. But personally, I've given up poetry after Juan Francisco's murder because language no longer consoles me, and in lieu of poetry I now depend on that depth of faith that can't be uttered or verbalized.

"I tell my daughter I feel like Ulysses trying to return, between monsters and moral duties, to the nostalgia of my home, and I know one day eventually I will return to that home. But until then, home is no longer a place for me; it's a much broader concept — a community, a nation. If anything, I think we helped Mexico take a big step toward reclaiming that public space for us and not the criminals."

Epilogue: In the past month, two activists in Sicilia's movement have been murdered. Two others have been abducted and are missing. Another human rights activist was murdered in Juarez.

Find this article at:
http://wwv.time.eom/time/specials/packages/article/Q.288o4.aioi74S .2102138. 2iQ22a8.oo.html

Shoot ‘Em Up, Bang “Em Up- Johnny Depp’s (Antonio Banderas And Salma Hayek Too)-“One Upon A Time In Mexico"- A Film Review

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for Once Upon A Time In Mexico.

DVD Review

Once Upon A Time In Mexico, starring Johnny Depp, Antonio Banderas, Salma Hayek, 2004

This one may be a little too close for comfort these days what with the almost daily carnage reported from the drug wars in Mexico but anything that has Johnny Depp in it will at least get my attention. Although Johnny is not always up to par, Sweeney Todd seemed, well, too bizarre even for him, he is not afraid to take on quirky roles in the interest of making some memorable characters. Here he plays an upfront (literally) CIA agent down in Mexico to help defuse what looks like an attempt by the bad guys to knock off what passes for a good guy el presidente there and take over the government. To do, whatever. Yes, I know the plot sounds very familiar. Also familiar in this third part of the trilogy is the Angel-Diablo avenger of the people’s wrongs, and his own personal wrongs (wife, played by Salma Hayek, in flash-backs killed by the bad guys), Antonio Banderas. Of course that means plenty of shoot ‘em up, bang ‘em up as the two sides fire every thing they have at each other. And equally true, of course, the bad guys get their just desserts. Johnny will get a citation from the bosses at Langley for this one for sure.

P.S. Here is one thing that has always intrigued about shoot 'em up movies and it was really obvious here. Now I am no expert of weaponry, although I know how to handle a gun but Antonio Banderas’ shooting from every hip at random would seem to be foolhardy. Not only that but his chances of hitting anybody in the real world that way would seem minimal. On the other hand even the elite forces of the opponent seem, always, to be something out of the gang that could not shoot straight. The good guys must have the angels on their side, right?

*From The Pages Of "Workers Vanguard"-Vote Yes on California Prop 19 -Decriminalize marijuana (herb, maryjane, joints, ganja or whatever your favorite name for it is) - Down With the Racist “War on Drugs”!

Markin comment:

This article goes along with the propaganda points in the fight for our communist future mentioned in this day's other posts.
 
Additionally, everyone who has ever smoked a joint, thought about smoking a joint or thought about inhaling the smoke from a joint, in short everyone from the baby boomer generation (except good old boy Bill Clinton it seems) should vote YES with both hands on this one, despite its limitations. Hell, if we had won our fight for the new society back then in the 1960s this would already be the law of the land (actually a better version as noted in the article) and nobody would think twice about it today.    
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Workers Vanguard No. 967
22 October 2010

Vote Yes on California Prop 19

Down With the Racist “War on Drugs”!

OAKLAND—An initiative on the November 2 ballot in California would make the state the first in the country to legalize the sale of marijuana as well as eliminate criminal penalties for possession or use of an ounce or less by those over 21. It would make cannabis available for scientific, medical, industrial and research purposes and permit the cultivation of small amounts for personal consumption. Proposition 19, “The Regulate, Control and Tax Cannabis Act of 2010,” is written narrowly to leave much of pot use illegal and concerns itself with regulating and taxing its sale. Nevertheless, a vote for Prop. 19 is an elementary expression of support for a simple democratic right: that the government keep its claws off of people’s private lives.

Equally important, a vote for this initiative is a vote against the “war on drugs,” which is in the main a war against black people. While blacks and whites use marijuana at close to the same rate, the arrest rate for blacks is three times greater nationally and ranges up to four times greater in California counties.

The “war on drugs” has served to greatly intensify capitalist state repression, whose daily workings include street executions by marauding cops, such as the brutal killings of Oscar Grant in Oakland last year and Manuel Jamines in Los Angeles this September. In Latin America, U.S. imperialism—under both Democratic and Republican administrations—has used the “war on drugs” as a pretext for expanding its military presence and propping up pro-U.S. regimes (see “Mexico: Down With ‘Drug Wars’ Militarization!” WV No. 953, 26 February).

Contrary to government claims, the criminalization of marijuana has never had anything to do with protecting anyone’s welfare. Anti-drug laws are designed to maintain social control and regimentation of the population, providing a legal pretext to repress black people, immigrants, youth and others.

Laws against marijuana were first adopted beginning in 1914 as a racist measure against Mexican immigrants in the Southwest. A federal ban in 1937 opened the era of campaigns against “reefer madness,” especially targeting both blacks and Latinos. The first federal “drug czar,” Harry Anslinger, captured that ban’s spirit with such racist diatribes as “reefer makes darkies think they’re as good as white men.”

Today’s plethora of drug laws are an outgrowth of the web of legal repression under the “war on crime,” kicked off with Democrat Lyndon Johnson’s 1968 “Safe Streets Act” and Republican Richard Nixon’s 1970 “Drug Abuse Prevention and Control Act.” These and subsequent measures were implemented to target black militants and the ghetto poor following the upheavals against segregation, poverty and racist cop terror in the mid-to-late 1960s. Under Ronald Reagan in the 1980s, the bipartisan “war on drugs” was officially launched, centered on a racist crack cocaine witchhunt. Incarceration rates skyrocketed, especially for young black men, for whom the capitalist rulers have had increasingly little use since the devastation of unionized industrial jobs beginning in the 1970s.

Starting in the early 1990s, marijuana arrests began to shoot up as crack cocaine arrests leveled off. By 2009, annual marijuana prosecutions had reached more than 858,000. More than half of all drug arrests are for marijuana, and 46 percent of all drug arrests—nearly 760,000 a year—are for possession. U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder has made clear the government’s opposition to Prop. 19, vowing that the Obama administration would “vigorously enforce” federal drug laws.

The government has no business criminalizing the personal use of any drug, for any purpose, regardless of its particular risks or effects. As communists, we demand an end to all laws against “crimes without victims,” such as gambling, prostitution, drug use, pornography and all consensual sex. Likewise, we oppose “sin taxes” on activities and products the bourgeoisie deems “immoral” or unhealthy, like alcohol and tobacco.

In fact, marijuana is among the safest of non-food substances consumed by humans. Yet under the Controlled Substances Act, the Feds put it on the list of the supposedly most dangerous drugs, Schedule I, along with heroin, and ahead of Schedule II drugs like cocaine and morphine. Despite the passage of Prop. 215 in 1996, which made medical use of marijuana legal in California, the federal government did not stop persecuting a number of patients with harrowing illnesses for whom pot provided some relief.

NAACP president Alice Huffman explained why the California NAACP endorsed Prop. 19 by correctly denouncing “the so called ‘war on drugs’” as “a war that disproportionately affects young men and women and the latest tool for imposing Jim Crow justice on poor African-Americans” (San Francisco Chronicle, 16 September). For this, she has come under fire, with more than 20 black preachers and others demanding her resignation. Nate Holden, a longtime black Democratic Los Angeles politician, has come out against Prop. 19. The capitalist Democratic Party, and black elected officials in particular, have been instrumental in the anti-drug crusade. Huffman herself has endorsed Democratic state attorney general Jerry Brown for governor. Brown boasts of enforcing the racist drug laws and opposes Prop. 19. In their role of tying labor to the capitalist class enemy, the bureaucratic misleaders of almost all of California’s public workers unions have also backed Brown, who promises to cut public workers pensions.

The “war on drugs” has at times been supported by large sections of working people and the oppressed who wrongly believe that cops and prisons are a means for combatting the social pathology of drug addiction and the drug trade. In fact, decriminalization, by taking the superprofits out of the drug trade, would also reduce the crime associated with it. For those who wish, any associated psychological or medical problem that may arise from drug use should be treated as a medical issue, not a criminal one. At the same time, we understand that drug addiction in the ghetto is a reflection of the hellish conditions imposed on masses of black people in this racist capitalist society. As we wrote in “Anti-Immigrant, Anti-Woman, Anti-Sex: U.S./UN Crusade Against ‘Sex Trafficking’” (Spartacist [English-language edition] No. 58, Spring 2004):

“Recreational drug use is nobody else’s business, but widespread drug addiction and alcoholism sap the revolutionary energy of the working class and other sections of the oppressed. The social oppression that breeds alcoholism and drug addiction among the poor should be fought through the moral authority of the proletarian socialist movement, and not through state coercion.”

Whipping up hysteria about drugs in the workplace, the California Chamber of Commerce opposes Prop. 19 because the measure approves only the “existing right of an employer to address consumption that actually impairs job performance”—i.e., the current norm for subjecting workers to drug tests. We oppose all workplace drug testing, which the bosses use as a pretext to frame up or target militants and cow the entire workforce.

The racism and union-busting of the “war on drugs” come together in the Transportation Worker Identification Credential (TWIC) program, under which port workers are branded as a “threat to national security” for offenses ranging from drug possession with intent to distribute to fraud and being an “illegal immigrant.” Under TWIC, many port workers have lost their jobs, disproportionately blacks and Latinos, and including members of the largely immigrant port truckers. As the Northern California District Council of the International Longshore and Warehouse Union declared in a statement endorsing Prop. 19: “Peoples’ lives are ruined for a lifetime because of criminal records incurred from using a drug that is used recreationally by people from all walks of life. Those criminal records fall disproportionately on the backs of workers, poor people, and people of color.” Down with TWIC!

We support Prop. 19 as a step toward removing all laws against drug use, but we do not take a position on the particular schemes advanced by Prop. 19 to regulate the commercial production and taxation of marijuana. Moreover, we oppose the draconian measures it would mete out when it comes to youth—the other group specially targeted by drug laws—and those who provide them marijuana. These include up to seven years in prison for offering or providing pot to youth under 14, up to five years for ages 14-18 and six months for ages 18-21. Despite its weaknesses, however, if passed and actually implemented—no sure thing given federal and police hostility—Prop. 19 would eliminate a key legal pretext for state harassment and violence. Down with the racist and anti-labor “war on drugs”! For decriminalization of drugs! Vote yes on Prop. 19!

Not Ready For Prime Time Class Struggle- “The Big Easy” –A Film Review

Click on the headline to link to a "Wikipedia" entry for the movie, "The Big Easy" which fills out the plot line for this review.

DVD Review

The Big Easy, Dennis Quaid, Ellen Barkin, 1987

Sometimes a movie is a little too close to the truth, although it is not recognized as such until later. That is the case with the plot of “The Big Easy” a story line that deals with ‘isolated’ police corruption in the Big Easy, New Orleans. Thus, there is plenty of murder, mayhem, and the rest as a big time drug deal by rogue cops gets busted up by the good cops. Not, howe,ver without some anguish and moral qualms along the way. Well, I told you that it was a fairy tale, didn't I? Today’s charges of police corruption in the headlines, on any given day, from out of New Orleans since well before Hurricane Katrina puts this story line in the shade. Well in the shade.

Okay, that is on the political level. Now to the real action. The love interest that drives the film, of course. You know the boy meets girl thing. Here “go along to get along’ New Orleans cop, Dennis Quaid (Remy), meets avenging “angel” prosecuting attorney, Ellen Barkin (Anne), and after a few, actually very few, preliminaries, they are an item. Oh, did I tell you that Quaid is a good old boy Cajun (or part Cajun, anyway) to add color to this thing. And to take advantage of the New Orleans motif, natch. You are watching this one for the chemistry between Quaid and Barkin, mainly. And, maybe, the sound track that includes some material by various Neville Brothers combinations. The story you have seen and heard a thousand times before

A Short Note On a Small "Victory"- Crack Cocaine Sentencing

Commentary-Revised December 17, 2007


One of the most bizarre twists in the United States Sentencing Guidelines that have for a generation controlled judicial discretion in the federal system has been the distinction drawn in many federal sentences between crack cocaine and ‘straight’ cocaine. Not entirely by accident that difference in severity for crack cocaine has been reflected in the disproportionate number of blacks and Hispanics incarcerated for the crime. Recently the United States Sentencing Commission, the governmental organization that established the guidelines, did an about face for many of the crack cocaine offenses and reduced the disparity. Since the hysteria over crack cocaine has died down and further information has indicated that the differences between the two forms of the drug is not significant the Commission voted 7-0, over Bush Administration objections, to retroactively permit challenges to sentences in many of these cases. An estimated 20,000 prisoners could be positively affected by the decision.

Although leftists do not share the illusions in the capitalist justice system that one commissioner, Federal Judge William Sessions of the District Court in Vermont, expressed when declaring that this decision goes a long way to insuring a ‘color blind’ justice system we nevertheless will take such a 'victory’ when it comes along. And that I think is the point here. The Federal system is loaded, no, over- loaded with prisoners sentenced during the heyday of the “war against drugs” for crimes that should never have been crimes in the first place. I have argued, and continue to argue today, that drugs should be decriminalized. In most cases possession of drugs constitutes a personal preference and as such are so-called ‘crimes without victims’ and that is where it should be left-out of the court system. One estimate has it that some 60,000 of the over 200, 000 prisoners in federal jails are there for some drug related crime. That alone tells the tale. Moreover, multiply that figure by the numbers of drug prisoners in state and local facilities and one can only conclude that something is very wrong here. Down with the ‘war against drugs’. Decriminalize drug use now.