Showing posts with label Prison Nation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prison Nation. Show all posts

California Prisons: I wouldn't Put These Blokes In Charge of My Dog

Assuming I had one.

Mean, petty, vindictive, and possessed of infinitely more authoritarian attitude than brains, that I'll guarantee.

Mind you, the inmates are just as bad, if they had a brain between them they would put aside the infantile gang culture, bury their differences and join together to face the common enemy, the Department of Corrections. They might actually achieve a bit of something that way.

Gangs! I ask you, I gave up gangs when I gave up short pants.



What are they measuring here, his hight or his IQ?

Prisoner Health Deteriorates as California Clamps Down on Hunger Strike
by Julianne Hing
13/10/2011

Inmate health is deteriorating as prison officials clamp down on a hunger strike throughout California state prisons that’s entering its third week.

Inmates at Pelican Bay State Prison have been calling on prison officials to improve prison conditions and reform discipline policies that they say lead to the unfair and indefinite isolation of inmates into the notorious supermaximum security wing of the Security Housing Unit.

After staging what they thought was a successful hunger strike over the summer, inmates restarted their strike on September 26 out of frustration with the slow pace of talks between inmates, their advocates and prison officials. This time around though, prison officials have clamped down on the strikers, classifying the strike as a disturbance and removing visitor privileges for those who are participating. Inmate advocates say that prison officials have used new tactics, like blasting the air condition on in the middle of the night for prisoners, to retaliate against them.

They remove their property, and they’ve taken absolutely everything away from them, and even the ones that just went on the hunger strike just a week have been told they’re not going to get their property back until the whole thing is over,” said Dolores Canales, whose son John has been in the SHU for ten years.

“They’ve been punished and the [California Department of Corrections] is treating this like a disturbance as if there were a work strike, but it’s a peaceful protest.”

Prison officials confirmed that those who’ve been identified as organizers of the hunger strike have been moved to the so-called Ad-Seg unit, but say that their tough response to hunger strikers is motivated by concern for the safety of other inmates. Terry Thornton, a spokesperson for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, said that prison officials were taken aback by the second hunger strike.

“We’re frankly a bit puzzled as to why they started this action,” Thornton said. “After the first one, we fixed our inconsistencies. Everything we said we were going to do that we could do, we did, and everything we said we could look at we did.”

One of inmates’ top demands has been that the CDCR do away with a policy that allowed prisoners to confidentially label other prisoners as gang members in exchange for removal from the SHU. The policy, inmates said, gave prisoners the wrong motivation to unfairly and often inaccurately inform prison officials. The prison is evaluating this policy, Thornton said, and it’s currently going through an internal review with a wardens’ advisory group that should come up with a draft by next month.

Thornton said that unlike the first hunger strike, prison officials were given no notice that there would be a round two this fall. “This time around we are taking a different approach because we have done everything we said we were going to do,” Thornton said. “Engaging in this kind of disruptive activity is a violation of state law now.”

“If this wasn’t a crisis before, it’s been exacerbated by the health conditions of inmates and now you have the CDCR not responding positively to mediation and to the demands of prisoners,” said Isaac Ontiveros, an organizer of the Prisoner Hunger Strike network, a coalition of inmate advocate groups.

Ontiveros said that this time around, legal advocates for inmates had been locked out and that there had been no conversation between inmate advocates and prison officials. Thornton confirmed that there was no dialogue happening.

At its height, the hunger strike was said to be up to include 12,000 inmates, according to prisoner advocates’ estimates. But both sides say prison officials’ security measures against inmates have pushed some participating inmates to relent. “It’s been an attempt to freeze them out, as it were,” Ontiveros said. For some it appears to be working. As of Wednesday, 497 inmates in four prisons were participating in the hunger strike, including 68 in Pelican Bay, Thornton said.

For Ontiveros and Canales, their concern is the deteriorating health of inmates. According to Ontiveros, one participating striker at Pelican Bay had to be taken to an Oregon hospital after suffering a heart attack. Thornton, who would not comment on inmate health care, said the CDCR will continue to treat the hunger strike as a disturbance.

“They’ve endured this already for so many years,” Canales said. “We’ve heard from some prisoners throughout the state who have said they are going to go all the way and going to hold out to the end until change comes.” ColorLines
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Julian Assange: America The New Reich - Department of Justice The New Gestapo - Britains Awake!

A follow up to my recent post: John Pilger on The 'Getting' of Assange The Guardian and The US Justice System. A post where I stressed, ''That the United States of America should never be allowed to get into its rancid clutches, the person of Julian Assange.''

You can read this story however you wish, the nuts and bolts of what came to pass, or as Amy Goodman intended, as an expose of what passes for justice in the Land of the Free.

A similar, if not worse fate, awaits Julian Assange should we in Britain, or those in Europe, cave in to the demands of the Great Satan. (Paul Craig Roberts) And Garry whatshisname for that matter?


The Great Satan, Iranian depiction. Which, however true, is a bit rich coming from that quarter.


Two Standards of Detention
By Amy Goodman
December 3, 2009

Scott Roeder, the anti-abortion zealot charged with killing Dr. George Tiller, has been busy. He called the Associated Press from the Sedgwick County Jail in Kansas, saying, “I know there are many other similar events planned around the country as long as abortion remains legal.” Charged with first-degree murder and aggravated assault, he is expected to be arraigned July 28. AP recently reported that Roeder has been proclaiming from his jail cell that the killing of abortion providers is justified. According to the report, the Rev. Donald Spitz of the Virginia-based Army of God sent Roeder seven pamphlets defending “defensive action,” or killing of abortion clinic workers.

Spitz’s militant Army of God Web site calls Roeder an “American hero,” proclaiming, “George Tiller would normally murder between 10 and 30 children … each day … when he was stopped by Scott Roeder.”

The site, with biblical quotes suggesting killing is justified, hosts writings by Paul Hill, who killed Dr. John Britton and his security escort in Pensacola, Fla., and by Eric Rudolph, who bombed a Birmingham, Ala., women’s health clinic, killing its part-time security guard.

On Spitz’s Web site, Rudolph continues to write about abortion: “I believe that deadly force is indeed justified in an attempt to stop it.”



Juxtapose Roeder’s advocacy from jail with the conditions of Fahad Hashmi.

Hashmi is a U.S. citizen who grew up in Queens, N.Y., and went to Brooklyn College. He went to graduate school in Britain and was arrested there in 2006 for allegedly allowing an acquaintance to stay with him for two weeks. That acquaintance, Junaid Babar, allegedly kept at Hashmi’s apartment a bag containing ponchos and socks, which Babar later delivered to an al-Qaida operative. Babar was arrested and agreed to cooperate with the authorities in exchange for leniency.

While the evidence against Hashmi is secret, it probably stems from the claims of the informant Babar.

Fahad Hashmi was extradited to New York, where he has been held in pretrial detention for more than two years. His brother Faisal described the conditions: “He is kept in solitary confinement for two straight years, 23- to 24-hours lockdown. … Within his own cell, he’s restricted in the movements he’s allowed to do. He’s not allowed to talk out loud within his own cell. … He is being videotaped and monitored at all times. He can be punished … denied family visits, if they say his certain movements are martial arts … that they deem as incorrect. He has Special Administrative Measures (SAMs) … against him.”



Hashmi cannot contact the media, and even his lawyers have to be extremely cautious when discussing his case, for fear of imprisonment themselves. His attorney Sean Maher told me: “This issue of the SAMs … of keeping people in solitary confinement when they’re presumed innocent, is before the European Court of Human Rights. They are deciding whether they will prevent any European country from extraditing anyone to the United States if there is a possibility that they will be placed under SAMs … because they see it as a violation … to hold someone in solitary confinement with sensory deprivation, months before trial.”

Similarly, animal rights and environmental activists, prosecuted as “eco-terrorists,” have been shipped to the Federal Bureau of Prisons’ new “communication management units” (CMUs). Andrew Stepanian was recently released and described for me the CMU as “a prison within the actual prison. … The unit doesn’t have normal telephone communication to your family … normal visits are denied … you have to make an appointment to make one phone call a week, and that needs to be done with the oversight of … a live monitor.”



Stepanian observed that up to 70 percent of CMU prisoners are Muslim—hence CMU’s nickname, “Little Guantanamo.” As with Hashmi, it seems that the U.S. government seeks to strip terrorism suspects of legal due process and access to the media—whether in Guantanamo or in the secretive new CMUs. The American Civil Liberties Union is suing U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder and the Bureau of Prisons over the CMUs.

Nonviolent activists like Stepanian, and Muslims like Hashmi, secretly and dubiously charged, are held in draconian conditions, while Roeder trumpets from jail the extreme anti-abortion movement’s decades-long campaign of intimidation, vandalism, arson and murder.

Denis Moynihan contributed research to this column.

Amy Goodman is the host of “Democracy Now!,” a daily international TV/radio news hour airing on more than 750 stations in North America. She is the co-author of “Standing Up to the Madness: Ordinary Heroes in Extraordinary Times,” recently released in paperback. The Muslim Observer

h/t Maren
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Julian Assange: Facing The Future in a US Supermax Prison?

This is the follow on article to the Julian Assange piece below. Its purpose is twofold, to blow away the myth that the sole purpose of supermax facilities is to hold the baddest of the bad, because they are not. Designed with that purpose in mind, undoubtedly, but now employed just as much to punish any inmate, anywhere within the correctional system, who doesn't toe the line.

The other reason for offering this article up, is to highlight the kind of brutal and inhumane punishment that would, not may, await Julian Assange should he ever be extradited to the US, particularly when Assange is given the status of terrorist. And that's not another maybe, believe me, that's a foregone conclusion.

AS the writer notes:

Like Marion and Alcatraz before it, the Florence ADX is likely to hold those imprisoned for their political actions and beliefs: lifelong activists for Puerto Rican independence, Native American sovereignty, Black liberation, and anti-imperialism. The prison system treats these activists with special severity. Despite claims by the Bureau of Prisons that control units are designed for dangerous inmates incapable of coexisting in the general population, political prisoners often face isolation with no disciplinary charges against them whatsoever

Little wonder that Timothy Mcveigh waived his right to appeal and embraced his execution. They strap you to a gurny, they can only kill you once. Spend your life in a supermax, they kill you anew, every day. If you read the complete article, you may understand what I'm talking about. Though I must stress, this is a far milder article than some I could have made use of. See supermaxed.com below for others.

Drawings by America’s most isolated prisoner, Tommy Silverstein. More of him and other links below.


Shackled justice: Florence federal penitentiary and the new politics of punishment.


"All of us share a common curse," bemoaned President Clinton as he urged the passage of his fledgling crime bill. "In the most wonderful country in the world, we have the highest violent crime rate, the largest percentage of our people behind bars" (Denver Post, April 15, 1994). As with other U.S. leaders, however, the "New Democrat" president could not be expected to address the fundamental social fissures that simultaneously foster a terrifying plague of violence while building an increasingly policed and criminalized society. Instead, Clinton's quizzical solution to crime and excessive incarceration, as he defines them, has been a retrenchment of the preceding regime - marginalizing still broader sectors of U.S. society and expanding the state's powers of coercion to control those subsequently labeled as criminal.

The overarching effects of this law-and-order strategy toward governance have already been catastrophic. The U.S. imprisons some 560 of every 100,000 citizens and the proportion increases each year (New York Times, October 28, 1994). While critiquing the broad impacts of an increasingly punitive state, however, it is also important to analyze its localized manifestations. It is crucial to study not only the social and political forces behind the new politics of punishment, but also their smaller-scale and largely autonomous institutions. The billions Congress and state legislatures allocate to law enforcement and incarceration create and maintain individual penal institutions, from local jails to federal prisons, each caught within the matrix of the dominant social order. Together they profoundly control the lives of more than 1.5 million individuals, yet they are largely hidden from public view and critique (New York Times, October 28, 1994). One such institution is the newly opened control-unit prison in Florence, Colorado.

The new supermaximum-security prison is actually one of four facilities, which together make up the largest federal prison complex in the United States. When completely filled in early 1995, the entire "campus" will incarcerate some 3,000 inmates in four institutions: a minimum-security federal prison camp, a medium-security federal correctional institution (FCI), a maximum-security United States penitentiary, and an administrative-maximum, control-unit prison (ADX).

It has been an economic boon for economically depressed central Colorado and the prison promises 750 permanent jobs to this small, rural community. Florence has been long strapped by factory layoffs and throughout the 1980s most local families earned less than $15,000 a year (O'Keeffe, 1991a: 1; Bureau of Prisons, 1989: II-40). Already accustomed to a number of state prisons in the area, the town lobbied hard for the complex. A local newspaper poll found 97% support for the project, and despite the area's meager resources, Florence pulled together an attractive incentives package (O'Keeffe, 1991a: 1). Local citizens held bake sales and sold T-shirts, raising $128,000 to purchase land for the economy-boosting site (Denver Post, May 17, 1991). It is not often that a community asks for a prison to be built next door, and as the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) scrambled to contain a soaring prison population, it eventually accepted their offer. Construction of the $222 million compound began in 1990 (Denver Post, October 27, 1994). Today Florence's Fremont county boasts the highest concentration of inmates in the United States.




While prison officials and local residents found a convergence of interests in Florence, prisoners and their advocates are not nearly as enthusiastic. Activists for human rights and social justice are especially concerned about the ADX control unit, slotted to become the highest security and most regimented prison in the United States. The Bureau of Prisons designed Florence as a high-tech replacement for its infamous lock-down prison in Marion, Illinois. After a decade of stinging lawsuits and public protest there, the prisoncrats promised a kinder, gentler supermaximum prison in Florence. As the 554-cell men's control unit began to accept prisoners in early December 1994, however, all indications are that the prison will not reform the punitive Marion model of total isolation and sensory deprivation, but will intensify it. For those concerned with social justice, an understanding of the new prison and the gamut of policies it embodies is crucial. Florence represents the cutting edge of U.S. social control. Not only will dozens of incarcerated political activists likely be moved to the prison, but its construction also underlines the government's reaction to infrastructural decay and a growing domestic underclass.

The Marion Model

The Marion model for control-unit prisons originated within the Bureau of Prisons some 30 years ago. At a 1963 conference in Puerto Rico, prison administrators sought to cope with the closure of Alcatraz by dispersing "problem prisoners" throughout the federal system and experimenting with psychological rehabilitation programs (Ward and Carlson, 1994: 3). With the rise of national liberation movements, however, and especially after the Attica uprising of 1971, U.S. power brokers soon missed the ability of Alcatraz to isolate and rigidly control those who most articulately and effectively opposed their role. In an era of Increasing economic stratification and civil disorder, they moved to create embryonic institutions of social control for whatever perilous conditions the future might hold.

At Marion, the Bureau of Prisons began by reconcentrating high-security inmates in a new long-term control unit and forcibly enrolling them in the systematic Control and Rehabilitation Effort (CARE) (Dowker and Good, 1993: 2). With this behavior modification experiment underway, Marion became the "end of the line" for federal prisoners. By the dawn of the Reagan era, when warden Harold Miller assumed the helm, Bureau of Prisons' plans were already underway to convert Marion into a permanent isolation facility (Dunne, 1992: 40). It was a gradual transformation, and as prisoners resisted the erosion of their already limited civil rights, prison administrators justified each new step. After a long 1980 work strike, for example, the Bureau of Prisons permanently closed Marion's prison factory. The atmosphere became increasingly coercive and as guard violence, religious persecution, and other maladies increased, Warden Miller began the final crackdown.(1)

The immediate pretense was a series of murders inside. On October 22, 1980, prisoners in the control unit separately stabbed two guards to death. Four days later, a prisoner was found murdered in his cell (Dowker and Good, 1993: 3). Although two perpetrators were brought to trial and convicted of murder, Miller placed the entire prison under a state of emergency on October 28. The Bureau of prisons transferred riot squads with names like the "A-Team" and "Blue Thunder" from other prisons and a comprehensive shakedown began on November 2 (Dunne, 1992: 52). With every prisoner locked 24 hours a day in solitary cells, guards began a veritable reign of terror more violent than anything since the Attica rebellion. Guards in full riot gear removed their name tags and moved cell by cell through the prison, extracting and beating inmates and confiscating their property (Amnesty International, 1987: 1).




The case of Garvin Dale White is a poignant example. After refusing a rectal examination during the crackdown, he was beaten, forcibly x-ray searched, and locked naked in a "dry cell," with no heat, water, or toilet for four days. He was manacled the entire time (Dunne, 1992:53). Overall, there were 110 complaints of physical abuse filed, none of which resulted in legal or personnel disciplinary action (Ibid.).

After several weeks of total lockdown, Marion settled into its present conditions. It has served as the cutting-edge model for control-unit prisons ever since, dispensing entirely with the seemingly anachronistic rhetoric of rehabilitation and linking punishment to every aspect of prisoners' lives. Today, Marion prisoners spend 23 hours each day in their cells alone. There are limited educational and religious services, no central library, and no job-training program. In the most controlled cell block, inmates are allowed only one 10-minute phone call each month, three showers per week, and they can never move from their cells without shackles and handcuffs. At any sign of resistance, the prison's Special Operations Response Team (SORT) uses "whatever force is necessary" to restore order, including chaining prisoners to their beds for days at a time (ABC's "20/20," 1988). All this is at the cost of $40,000 per prisoner every year. "Marion is an experiment," Chicago Lawyer Jan Susler comments, "to see how much a prisoner can take before he breaks, to see how far they can dehumanize somebody before they completely lose their sanity" (Washington Post, May 28, 1991).

The effects of Marion and other control units on prisoner psychology are predictably profound. As early as 1890, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that extended solitary confinement was "infamous punishment," leading to severe mental impairment (Haney, 1993: 5). More recently, the American Journal of Psychiatry reported significant psychological problems after less than two months of solitary confinement. Their observations, made at the Walpole Massachusetts Control Unit, included hallucinations, anxiety attacks, memory and concentration lapses, problems with impulse control, self-mutilation, and other diagnosable disorders (Grassian, 1983: 1450-1454). An Iowa prisoner in his fourth year of segregation wrote, "I remember waking up...so full of stress that the veins in my head were vibrantly flexing...like muscles having an involuntary spasm" (Stewart, 1990).

Conditions in the Security Housing Unit (SHU) of California's Pelican Bay prison are so severe that Harvard psychiatrist Stuart Grassian characterizes their effects as a unique illness (Bierma, 1994: 26). In accordance with a federal class-action lawsuit against the prison, Grassian interviewed 50 Pelican Bay inmates last year. He testified that 80% of them suffer from what he calls "SHU syndrome," in which they either become mentally ill once in the unit or their preexisting disorders are severely exacerbated. "Many of the inmates at Pelican Bay were among the most severely ill of people I've encountered in my research and observation," Grassian says. Pelican Bay does not rehabilitate. Instead, Grassian explains, the prison "takes the most out-of-control of the prison population and makes them much more out-of-control by the time they leave" (Ibid.). An isolation prisoner inside the unit writes, "It's like we're dead.... They've taken away everything that might give a little purpose to your life" (Haney, 1993: 5).




The newest facilities are unique in their application of sophisticated technology to control prisoners' routines, movements, and even thoughts more than ever before. At Pelican Bay, for example, electronic surveillance, automatic doors, and intercoms have replaced many guard duties. Silence reigns at the futuristic SHU where prisoners never see natural light and are prohibited from decorating their windowless cells (Weinstein and Cummins, 1993: 39). In a new supermaximum facility run by the State of Colorado, lights stay on around the clock and a single 3.5 inch by 3.5 foot window provides narrow vistas of a brick wall (Daily Camera, 1993).

Of course, it is not only technology that confines control-unit inmates; the threat of physical violence is a constant component in institutions of such rigidity. Inmates can be "extracted" from their cells by SORT teams for any number of reasons, including insolence, excessive noise, refusal to eat, and other infractions. Other times guards may shackle inmates to their beds, and reports of beatings and assaults with rubber-bullet guns are not uncommon (testimony at the National Lawyer's Guild Convention, August 1994). Most attacks result in relatively minor injuries that the prison hierarchy can easily ignore, but occasionally the inherent violence of control units spills beyond the confines of invisibility.

On April 22, 1992, for example, Vaughn Dortch was stripped naked and pulled out of his cell by a Pelican Bay SORT squad. According to court records, prison guards then carried Dortch shackled and gagged to the infirmary where six guards pressed him into a steel tub of scalding hot water for several minutes. Dortch, who is African American, told "60 Minutes" that the guards promised to give him a "Klan bath" and scrubbed him with a bristle brush until his skin started to peel away. "Looks like we're going to have a white boy before this is through," one of the assailants joked. Dortch received second and third-degree burns over 30% of his body (Bienna, 1994: 26).

Even without considering such wanton acts of violence, Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have condemned such control units based on their design and purpose alone. In the Pelican Bay case (Madrid v. Gomez), U.S. District Judge Thelton Henderson ruled on January 13, 1995, that the California Super-Max violates constitutional guarantees against cruel and unusual punishment. "Dry words on paper cannot adequately capture the senseless suffering and sometimes wretched misery that [state officials'] unconstitutional policies leave in their wake," Henderson wrote in his 345-page decision. "The anguish of descending into serious mental illness, the pain of physical abuse or the torment of having serious mental needs that simply go unmet is profoundly difficult, if not impossible, to fully fathom" (Associated Press, January 14, 1995). Despite his harsh words, Judge Henderson's ruling was unfortunately narrow, limiting legal action to ameliorating inadequate medical care rather than addressing the policies of the control unit as a whole. Meanwhile, the Marion model continues to expand rapidly.(2) By 1991, there were control-unit prisons in 36 states, isolating over 18,000 people, and nearly every state has plans for further construction (Daily Camera, August 29, 1993).




The Crime of Punishment

The steady deterioration in U.S. prison conditions has not occurred in isolation. After a decade of Republican rule and economic stratification, it is only natural that the decay and violence on the outside would be magnified within prison walls. Between 1980 and 1990, the richest one percent in the United States saw their after-tax income grow by nearly 90%, while the majority sank into unemployment and growing poverty (Sklar, 1991: 10-12). Such statistics reflect the economic misery of millions of North Americans, sparking the rage and alienation that institutions like Florence scramble to control. As neither Reagan nor Clintonomics care to address this economic underdevelopment, their policies favor social control over social reform.

Reagan launched the "drug war" in the early 1980s and mainstream politicians have jumped on the increasingly coercive bandwagon ever since. Capitalizing on real public victimization, especially that in poor, urban communities, Congress and state legislatures have passed dozens of "get-tough" crime bills, imposing limitations on legal appeals, mandatory sentencing guidelines, more money for police with liberalized mandates, and especially for more prisons. While debating the federal crime package, Senator Joseph Biden described the prevailing zeitgeist: "There is a mood here that if someone came to the floor and said we should barbwire the ankles of anyone who jaywalks, I think it would pass" (Denver Post, November 10, 1993).(3)

California alone has enacted more than 1,000 crime laws since the 1970s, and its prison budget now eclipses funding for the University of California system (Denver Post, May 15, 1994). There are now 28 prisons in California, but if the state is to comply with the much touted "three-strikes-and-your-out" legislation, the state will need at least 20 more prisons by the end of the century. If the current incarceration growth rate continues, the state will need an additional 80 prisons over the next 30 years. The cost to California tax payers will be at least $24,000 per prisoner per year after construction costs, some of which will be spent for the entirety of prisoners' lives (Denver Post, May 15, 1994).

The results of this mostly bipartisan crime strategy, pursued through a string of administrations and congressional sessions across the country, are staggering. The United States now incarcerates at a higher rate than any country except Russia, and new crime legislation makes room for thousands more (New York Times, October 28, 1994).(4) Indeed, the medium- and maximum-security facilities at Florence and every new federal prison built are already filled beyond capacity (Bowers, 1993: 7).




This phenomenal growth, almost tripling since 1980, has little to do with crime. In fact, while politicians have polished their cavalier images, crime statistics have generally fallen or remained static. The two-decade National Crime Victimization Survey, for example, indicates a 29% drop in crime across the United States since 1974 (Bureau of Justice Statistics, 1993). For violent crime in specific, the rates have remained relatively flat, certainly representing elevated totals compared to most of the world, but hardly indicative of a new and escalating crisis.

Moreover, contrary to conventional media wisdom, the primary victims of crime have remained constant throughout the shift in U.S. crime policy. The only demographic group to actually suffer an increase in murder and other violent crimes over the last 20 years, for example, are urban teens, especially African American youth (Ibid.). For children, women, and almost everyone else, the most dangerous places in North America are still the home and workplace. There, reported rates of domestic violence, marital and acquaintance rape, and sexual assault and harassment remain epidemic. Domestic violence is the number one cause of injury to women aged 15 to 24, representing an impact greater than that of auto accidents and cancer combined (Denver Post, July 31, 1994). Most socially and environmentally egregious activity, especially that involving legitimized corporate pursuits, is not even defined as criminal.

These domestic and profiteering perpetrators have not been the focus of the anti-crime movement because addressing crime and violence is not its primary objective. Instead, the latest law-and-order regime traces its roots to politics and social control. As Marc Mauer of The Sentencing Project reminds us, "the politics of [crime] shows the data don't have much impact on the debate" (Denver Post, May 15, 1994). Yet the rhetoric of obfuscation has proved an incredibly effective political strategy for Democrats and Republicans alike, falsely diagnosing social maladies from painfully real symptoms and deflecting attention from the country's more deep-rooted and tangible concerns.

For people of color and others living in marginalized communities, the fear of crime victimization is compounded by the fear of police forces that function more as armies of occupation than keepers of the peace. People of color are not only the primary victims of crime, they are also the primary targets of the new law-and-order regime. They face discriminatory treatment at every level of the criminal justice system, from police harassment and brutality to racially charged congressional legislation and hostile Supreme Court rulings.




Throughout the 1980s and early 1990s, racial disparity in the judiciary has only deteriorated. In 1984, the average prison sentence was 28% higher for African Americans than for whites. With the escalation of the "drug war," the disparity grew to 49% by 1990 (Meierhoefer, 1992: 20-21). Mandatory sentencing guidelines, ostensibly designed to alleviate such penal subjectivity, have actually exacerbated the situation (McDonald and Carlson, 1993: 177). In 1990, Latino offenders were 28% more likely than whites to receive mandatory sentences (Vincent and Hofer, 1994: 24). Once they are in prison, people of color are the last to leave. African American women, for example, are eight times more likely to be sentenced to prison than white women and they serve 30% more time once inside (Kurshan, 1992: 346).

Such oppressive conditions, both inside and outside the prison system, have always sparked popular resistance that institutions like Florence are designed to control. Like Marion and Alcatraz before it, the Florence ADX is likely to hold those imprisoned for their political actions and beliefs: lifelong activists for Puerto Rican independence, Native American sovereignty, Black liberation, and anti-imperialism. The prison system treats these activists with special severity. Despite claims by the Bureau of Prisons that control units are designed for dangerous inmates incapable of coexisting in the general population, political prisoners often face isolation with no disciplinary charges against them whatsoever. When Silvia Baraldini, Alejandrina Torres, and Susan Rosenberg were sent to the Lexington High Security Unit (a rigid control unit for women isolated 30 feet below ground), prison staff informed them that their pass into the unit was "one way" unless they changed their political affiliations (Rosenberg, 1992: 128).(5) The new Florence ADX warden, Jim Story, admits that prisoners will be sent to the control unit for being the "leader or significant participant in a work or food strike" (Story, 1994a).

The Florentine Solution

Prison officials and their media supporters have tried to distance Florence from its problematic predecessor and accompanying political baggage. Administrative maximum facilities, they say, are an unfortunate necessity, housing only the most "predatory" criminals (Bureau of Prisons, 1992: 1). They offer mostly anecdotal evidence, emphasizing details of proverbial prisoner brutality rather than case studies or statistical data. The Denver Post, for example, introduced the ADX with mug shots of Manuel Noriega, John Gotti, and assorted neo-Nazis and serial killers (Denver Post, May 17, 1992). Thus, prisoncrats leave the impression that only the "worst-of-the-worst" will ever reach the ADX. By concentrating such super criminals in a single prison, a Bureau of Prisons Congressional Affairs memorandum argues, they decrease violence throughout the prison system (Bureau of Prisons, 1992:11-14).

As proof of their benign intentions, the Bureau of Prisons claims that most inmates have been downgraded from Marion since the 1983 lockdown. The 21 original prisoners who still remain, of course, have been locked down now for more than a decade (Ibid.: 9). Contrary to Bureau of Prisons assertions, shipment to an ADX requires less than grisly stardom. In fact, the designation of a prisoner's security level is an arbitrary process, and anyone who antagonizes prison officials, through prison organizing, legal work, verbal defiance, political affiliation, or, more rarely, through actual violence, can be labeled an acute security risk. Dan Dove, Chief of Bureau of Prisons Public Affairs, concedes that there is no judicial oversight in determining who will be sent to the Florence ADX. "Inmates may be represented by a staff member at these hearings," he writes, "but there is no provision for attorney representation" (Dove, 1993: 3). A 1985 congressional report on this wholly internal process determined that 80% of Marion inmates merited a less severe security rating (O'Keeffe, 1991b: 13).




Prison officials assert, however, that Marion is perfectly fair and operates within constitutional guidelines. (They make no mention of international guidelines.) Florence, they say, will be even better. Unlike Marion, the new ADX is designed as a supermaximum prison. Bureau of Prisons literature cites new technology as the key, allowing Florence to function securely without bed restraining loops and standard shackling for any movement. Like Marion, Florence will operate on various security levels, ostensibly allowing inmates to work their way toward release through long-term cooperative behavior (Dove, 1992: 2).(6) During construction, Florence project manager Russ Martin summarized the Florence Renaissance approach: "The entire design of the facility is to create a more humane environment, to take away the dungeon effect" (O'Keeffe, 1991b: 13). Reading Bureau of Prisons media releases, one almost envisions Florence, where cells are "rooms" and inmates work toward completion of their "institutional careers," as a beacon of New Age corrections. October 1993 was even "Hispanic Heritage Month" at the prison (FCI/FPC Florence, 1993: 1).

A glance inside is more reminiscent of the rack. The Florence ADX penitentiary sits in the southeast corner of the four-prison complex. It is an imposing triangle of X-shaped cell blocks, surrounded by double 20-foot fences interwoven with 10 rows of razor wire.(7) Two perimeter roads, 8,000-watt lights, microwave sensors, anti-escape trip wires, and six sniper towers separate the ADX from the other facilities. Prisoners are unlikely ever to reach this dead space since the prison walls themselves serve as the primary perimeter, containing the limited recreation areas and everything else. Guards and visitors enter the prison through a tunnel.

Countering charges of sensory deprivation, Bureau of Prisons officials always note that Marion's cells close with open bars, allowing communication and free air flow (Bureau of Prisons, 1992:4). They have eliminated even this vestige of humanity at Florence. Cells in the six isolation units measure less than 90 square feet each and lock with a solid steel door (Bureau of Prisons, 1994: 2). Each cell contains a three-foot-wide cement bed slab, a concrete stool and desk, a steel sink and toilet, and a three-by-three shower stall. A fluorescent light panel glares from the wall, illuminating other amenities like an electric cigarette lighter, an inmate duress switch (since the cells are essentially soundproof), an air grate, and, in some cells, a small television. Double doors shrink the cells by another three feet, trapping unreachable space between bars and the outer door. Only two window slits allow external light into the cage, one on the steel door staring into the empty hallway and another body-length sliver facing an empty courtyard. The shower, along with food slots in the door, allow for total isolation. Even psychological counseling can be a solitary experience in the ADX. Warden Bill Story promises that health care will be "consistent with community standards" and that those inmates deemed too dangerous to leave their cells can receive religious or psychological guidance from "professional staff" over closed-circuit television (Story, 1994b).

When and if prisoners are allowed out of their cells, they will have little to celebrate. Visits in the control blocks will be tightly regimented and only allowed through Plexiglas dividers. There will be no joint religious services of any faith and educational programs will be restricted beyond GED work (Dove, 1992: 3). Not even demeaning work assignments will break the monotony of isolation for most of the prisoners (Ibid.). In the worst units, inmates will exercise alone in a pod barely twice the size of their cages, some for only five hours per week (Bureau of Prisons, 1994: 3).




Thus, the Florence ADX's very layout determines that it can be nothing but a chamber of sensory deprivation, designed to press inmates to the brink of insanity by its very architecture. Modern electronics allow constant surveillance and supervision while prisoners themselves remain physically invisible, locked away from any direct human view or contact in compartments of solid steel.

Prisoners arriving en masse from Marion are finding many of their worst fears confirmed. While Marion was a uniquely despised locale, some newly arrived prisoners find themselves expressing an ironic and disturbing nostalgia. One prisoner wrote in early January:

It could be said that I've gone from the cauldrons of Hell in Marion right into Hell's fire in Florence. In Marion prisoners had access and gave support to each other. Even though it was limited to the unit, there was solidarity among prisoners. And at least once a week prisoners had access to the yard, where there was grass and from where we could see the forest, birds, and once in a while, a deer. But the Florence ADX is a cement and steel box designed for sensory deprivation.(8)

Though there were just over 50 inmates (out of an anticipated population of at least 484) in the ADX at the end of 1994 and prisoners remain optimistic that Florence guards may prove themselves to be more professional than their Marion counterparts, reports of staff abuses have already surfaced. Prisoners complain of repeated strip searches before and after visits (despite the absence of physical contact with anyone except prison staff), excessive shackling for any movement, and intentional sleep deprivation, with guards waking some prisoners every hour throughout the night. "The reality of sleep and sensory deprivation supersedes anything I've ever seen," writes a new arrival from Marion, "and that includes Pelican Bay."




Trapped in Toxicity

Florence shares not only cruelty with Marion, but also its environmental woes. At Marion, contamination surfaced as early as 1984, when the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) placed Crab Orchid Lake, a nearby water source, on its National Priorities List for Superfund cleanup (Rocawich, 1989: 24). Elevated PCBs and other toxins convinced the town to switch to an alternate water supply and guards began carrying bottled water to work (Ibid.). As the prison constituted a "community" of less than 10,000 people, however, it fell outside national safety guidelines. In addition to the PCB's, banned in 1976 because of their excessive toxicity, EPA tests found other carcinogens in Marion's water, including chloroform and trihalomethanes (Berkman and Clapp, 1989: 1). In 1986, chloroform levels were more than a thousand times higher than established safety limits (Ibid.: 2). However, Marion administrators took no action on behalf of the prisoners until 1992, consistently denying any contamination or safety risks (Bureau of Prisons, 1992: 18). Meanwhile, for over a decade Marion prisoners consumed contaminated water every day. Several prisoners and their supporters filed lawsuits against the prison, including Robert Wyler, who has since died of kidney cancer (Ibid.: 2-3).

Marion's history of environmental neglect may foreshadow similar events at Florence. Five miles due west of the new prison complex lies the Cotter Uranium Processing Facility, another EPA Superfund site. Cotter began operating the mill in 1958, processing uranium ore into purified uranium oxide "yellowcake" (Ibid.). Cotter stored the cakes - including original Manhattan Project ore with some of the highest concentrations of Thorium-230 and Protactinium-231 known - in giant, unlined tailings ponds (Dodge v. Cotter, 1991: 3). Later, after the ponds were lined, there were over 70 leaks reported at Cotter between 1980 and 1986 (Colorado Attorney General's Office, 1986: 3-28). Until its suspension of operations in 1987, Cotter accumulated approximately 3.5 million tons of radio-active tailings, storing them over 135 acres near Canon City and Florence (Dodge v. Cotter, 1991: 4).

The surrounding communities suffer contamination both through their water and air. Toxic compounds leak into the underground water supply through the unlined ponds and also into the Arkansas River. According to a state-commissioned investigation, the nearby housing development of Lincoln Park has radioactive levels 2,000 times higher than normal background amounts (Colorado Attorney General's Office, 1986: 4). During the irrigation season, the Cotter drainage spills into the Fremont ditch, floating radioactivity directly toward the Florence water supply (Ibid.: 6-11; 6-18). Studies along the Fremont ditch found elevated levels of molybdenum, arsenic, lead, and other contaminants. Molybdenum levels were even higher than those much closer to the mill site (Ibid.: 6-19). Additional allegations that Cotter may have dumped tailings and other waste down abandoned mine shafts to circumvent federal safety standards raise the specter of even worse contamination, perhaps of the entire aquifer (Cotter v. Dodge, 1991: 6).(9) The Bureau of prisons, final Environmental Impact Statement worries that the prison's water supply may have to be rerouted in the future due to "pollution" problems (Bureau of Prisons, 1989: II-45).




The mill also endangers the surrounding communities and the prison population with airborne particulates. Cotter itself estimates that over 19.9 tons of radioactive dust escaped the plant during each year of its operation. In the arid plains, these particles are especially mobile and the prison lies directly in Cotter's secondary wind pattern, subject to gusts of radium, uranium, thorium, and other grains (Colorado Attorney General's Office, 1988). Cotter's continual negligence, even to the point of spilling tailings from railroad cars in downtown Canon City, has prompted several lawsuits on behalf of the EPA and state and local residents ("EPA Eyes Cleanup of Radioactive Soil," 1991). In 1988, Cotter settled a $550 million government suit out of court and has agreed to finance its own cleanup under state supervision. In February 1994, a federal jury awarded $80,000 to eight Lincoln Part plaintiffs for claims associated with the site (Daily Camera, February 17, 1994). There have been no suits filed on behalf of Florence prisoners and since carcinogens may take years to complete their work, any court action may be long delayed.

That the government has expressed little concern for prisoners' environmental safety (or even that of the guards) should come as no surprise. Dozens of prisons have even worse environmental records. The Michigan State Prison in Jackson, for example, was fined $160,000 for illegally storing DDT and Agent Orange (Elvin, 1991: 13). At the state prison in Florence, Arizona, a visiting room sign warns: "If you are pregnant or of childbearing age, do not drink the water" (Ibid.).(10) In these actions, federal and state prisons only mimic corporate behavior across the country, dumping their waste based on a given community's resources and ability to respond. Consequently, prisoners, people of color, and poor communities like Florence bear the brunt of environmental degradation.

Cracks in the Bastille

Prisoners and prison activists have not accepted human rights violations, racism, and toxic exposure quietly. Only a few months after the minimum security camp opened in Florence, inmates organized a food strike to protest inadequate services at the new prison. The largest disturbance at Florence to date came in late February 1994, when medium-security prisoners rioted for several hours, smashing windows and computer equipment, and setting small fires throughout the building (Daily Camera, March 1, 1994). Prisoners at Florence and other federal institutions warn that overcrowding, continual harassment, and ever-harsher sentencing have pushed prison populations to the brink of explosion.

The tensions of overcrowding and mismanagement have affected prison staff as well. Nineteen Florence employees asked for a federal investigation into racial harassment at the prison in October 1993. Four of the whistle-blowers, all African Americans, have since been disciplined by FCI warden Tom Wooten. Charging the four with dubious rules violations, Wooten placed them on indefinite paid suspension and has refused further comment on the case and other management complaints (Rocky Mountain News, February 27, 1994).



I don't know what to make of this; bizarre, imagination, or a sense of humour? Or none of these.

Controversy has erupted on the outside as well, and organized resistance to prison racism and control units has escalated steadily over the last two years. The Committee to End the Marion Lockdown (CEML), founded in 1985 to oppose Marion abuses, has shifted much of its focus to Florence and produces information packets and visits Colorado several times. Committee activists visited Pueblo, Colorado, and surrounding communities as early as 1988 to oppose the ADX construction and to network with local human rights activists.

In Colorado, various organizations formed a statewide coalition to oppose control-unit prisons and political imprisonment in 1992. Labeled Abolish Control Unit Torture (ACUT), the coalition publishes a bimonthly newsletter, serves as an information clearing house, and organizes demonstrations, speaking tours, and other community events.

In October 1993, ACUT and the Movimiento de Liberacion Nacional Mexicano (MLNM) invited former political prisoner Rafael Cancel Miranda to Colorado to lead a demonstration at Florence. Cancel Miranda, along with three other Puerto Rican nationalists, spent 25 years in the worst U.S. prisons, from Alcatraz to Marion, for a 1954 attack on the U.S. House of Representatives.

Over 300 people converged at Florence on October 23, 1993, for a mass rally and march to the prison gates. In addition to the activists from across Colorado, several vans arrived from Chicago as well, carrying representatives of the CEML, the National Committee to Free Puerto Rican Political Prisoners and POWs, and relatives of several Marion prisoners. As the demonstration concluded, Cancel Miranda pointed to police and prison guards, urging them to realize their positions as pawns in oppression. "Florence was built for all of us," he said, and "while it stands, none of us are free."

At the National Lawyers Guild 1994 convention in Albuquerque, prison activists from around the country gathered to share information and strategy. Planned for the future is an on-line control-unit information network, long-term research and legal assistance projects, and a national day of action in Washington, D.C., scheduled for July 17, 1995. Working to coordinate the Washington demonstration and to form a comprehensive control-unit monitoring project, organizers held a national conference in Philadelphia in early December 1994. In Colorado, activists kept up the pressure as the ADX opened surreptitiously in early December, holding a large regional rally at the prison gates on December 10.

Resistance to the Florence supermaximum prison will continue as the U.S. prison population swells. It is projected to surpass two million human beings as anti-crime hysteria swings the political mainstream to the racist right. The Florence ADX is the quintessential embodiment of this oppression, destroying individual spirits through isolation terror and locking broad issues of social justice together within its gates. It represents the denial of justice to everyone in the United States - especially people of color and the poor - through environmental destruction and negligence, obfuscation of the real socioeconomic roots of crime, and political violence against those who dare to resist. The fight against Florence, therefore, is more than a struggle for individual human rights and dignity; it is a struggle for our collective survival. As Malcolm X summarized prison politics in the United States, "Don't be surprised when I say I was in prison. We've all been in prison. That's what America means - prison." The Free Library + notes and refs


Solitary: The Works of Tommy Silverstein


http://tommysilverstein.blogspot.com/

http://artofsilverstein.blogspot.com/

America’s “Most Isolated Man” Sues the Bureau of Prisons

Judge tosses suit of inmate long held in solitary

http://www.supermaxed.com/Federal-SM-Page.htm Everything you wanted to know about man's inhumanity to man. (both ways I guess)

Confronting Torture in U.S. Prisons: A Q&A With Solitary Watch
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John Pilger on The 'Getting' of Assange The Guardian and The US Justice System



''much of the US criminal justice system is corrupt if not lawless''


As John Pilger wades into the Guardian and New York Times, rightly giving them all the stick they deserve, reminding us along the way that both papers are in essence little better than the redtops. Both being so much a part of the established order and champions of the status quo as befits any organisation whose days of glory are past.

Given then that a good deal, though far from all of Pilger's article is taken up on these two papers, some might not consider that the one liner I have chosen above, as being the essential part of his essay.

But it is, it is the very essence, the vital part in fact, if your name is Julian Assange, because it is fundamental to what should now be our greatest concern. That the United States of America should never be allowed to get into its rancid clutches, the person of Julian Assange.

It must never come to pass, never ever. Because should such an occasion arise, Assange will disappear into the US prison system as quickly as the past disappeared down Winston's memory hole. Assange, just like the past, quite literally will never to see the light of day again. (Article to follow)

We have witnessed the treatment dished out to Bradley Manning by the ever vindictive mother and father of all hypocrisy, a country gone rogue, or should I say Nation, Nation under God. One Nation under God where the rule of law counts for absolutely nothing. One Nation under God where civil and human rights are valued just as equally. Yes we have all been witness to the treatment that God's Nation has dished out to Bradley Manning; what on earth might Julian Assange expect? More's the point, what kind of treatment might Assange expect if the US categorise him as ''Terrorist?'' (Again, article to follow)

But it is that very same treatment of Bradley Manning that may yet be the saviour of Julian Assange. Whereas I don't hold much hope out for Assange at the hands of the crimson robed, bewigged relics of the past that represent the head of our own judicial serpent, he might, as Pilger points out, fair better with the European Court of Human Rights, because I think it is inevitable that this is where Assange will ultimately end up. Because again as John Pilger notes:

Should Assange win his High Court appeal in London, he could face extradition direct to the United States. In the past, US officials have synchronised extradition warrants with the conclusion of a pending case. Like its predatory military, American jurisdiction recognises few boundaries.

And the European Court reference:

The "paranoia" is shared by the European Court of Human Rights which has frozen "national security" extraditions from the UK to the US because the extreme isolation and long sentences defendants can expect amounts to torture and inhuman treatment.

Skulduggery abounds here, and from many quarters.



The ‘getting’ of Assange and the smearing of a revolution
By John Pilger
6th October 2011

The High Court in London will soon to decide whether Julian Assange is to be extradited to Sweden to face allegations of sexual misconduct. At the appeal hearing in July, Ben Emmerson QC, counsel for the defence, described the whole saga as "crazy". Sweden's chief prosecutor had dismissed the original arrest warrant, saying there was no case for Assange to answer. Both the women involved said they had consented to have sex. On the facts alleged, no crime would have been committed in Britain.

However, it is not the Swedish judicial system that presents a "grave danger" to Assange, say his lawyers, but a legal device known as a Temporary Surrender, under which he can be sent on from Sweden to the United States secretly and quickly. The founder and editor of WikiLeaks, who published the greatest leak of official documents in history, providing a unique insight into rapacious wars and the lies told by governments, is likely to find himself in a hell hole not dissimilar to the "torturous" dungeon that held Private Bradley Manning, the alleged whistleblower. Manning has not been tried, let alone convicted, yet on 21 April, President Barack Obama declared him guilty with a dismissive "He broke the law".




This Kafka-style justice awaits Assange whether or not Sweden decides to prosecute him. Last December, the Independent disclosed that the US and Sweden had already started talks on Assange's extradition. At the same time, a secret grand jury - a relic of the 18th century long abandoned in this country - has convened just across the river from Washington, in a corner of Virginia that is home to the CIA and most of America's national security establishment. The grand jury is a "fix", a leading legal expert told me: reminiscent of the all-white juries in the South that convicted blacks by rote. A sealed indictment is believed to exist.

Under the US Constitution, which guarantees free speech, Assange should be protected, in theory. When he was running for president, Obama, himself a constitutional lawyer, said, "Whistleblowers are part of a healthy democracy and must be protected from reprisal". His embrace of George W. Bush's "war on terror" has changed all that. Obama has pursued more whistleblowers than any US president. The problem for his administration in "getting" Assange and crushing WikiLeaks is that military investigators have found no collusion or contact between him and Manning, reports NBC. There is no crime, so one has to be concocted, probably in line with Vice President Joe Biden's absurd description of Assange as a "hi-tech terrorist".

Should Assange win his High Court appeal in London, he could face extradition direct to the United States. In the past, US officials have synchronised extradition warrants with the conclusion of a pending case. Like its predatory military, American jurisdiction recognises few boundaries. As the suffering of Bradley Manning demonstrates, together with the recently executed Troy Davis and the forgotten inmates of Guantanamo, much of the US criminal justice system is corrupt if not lawless.




In a letter addressed to the Australian government, Britain's most distinguished human rights lawyer, Gareth Peirce, who now acts for Assange, wrote, "Given the extent of the public discussion, frequently on the basis of entirely false assumptions... it is very hard to attempt to preserve for him any presumption of innocence. Mr. Assange has now hanging over him not one but two Damocles swords, of potential extradition to two different jurisdictions in turn for two different alleged crimes, neither of which are crimes in his own country, and that his personal safety has become at risk in circumstances that are highly politically charged."

These facts, and the prospect of a grotesque miscarriage of justice, have been drowned in a vituperative campaign against the WikiLeaks founder. Deeply personal, petty, perfidious and inhuman attacks have been aimed at a man not charged with any crime yet held isolated, tagged and under house arrest - conditions not even meted out to a defendant presently facing extradition on a charge of murdering his wife.

Books have been published, movie deals struck and media careers launched or kick-started on the assumption that he is fair game and too poor to sue. People have made money, often big money, while WikiLeaks has struggled to survive. On 16 June, the publisher of Canongate Books, Jamie Byng, when asked by Assange for an assurance that the rumoured unauthorised publication of his autobiography was not true, said, "No, absolutely not. That is not the position ... Julian, do not worry. My absolute number one desire is to publish a great book which you are happy with." On 22 September, Canongate released what it called Assange's "unauthorised autobiography" without the author's permission or knowledge. It was a first draft of an incomplete, uncorrected manuscript. "They thought I was going to prison and that would have inconvenienced them," he told me. "It's as if I am now a commodity that presents an incentive to any opportunist."

The editor of the Guardian, Alan Rusbridger, has called the WikiLeaks disclosures "one of the greatest journalistic scoops of the last 30 years". Indeed, this is part of his current marketing promotion to justify raising the Guardian's cover price. But the scoop belongs to Assange not the Guardian. Compare the paper's attitude towards Assange with its bold support for the reporter threatened with prosecution under the Official Secrets Act for revealing the iniquities of Hackgate. Editorials and front pages have carried stirring messages of solidarity from even Murdoch's Sunday Times. On 29 September, Carl Bernstein was flown to London to compare all this with his Watergate triumph. Alas, the iconic fellow was not entirely on message. "It's important not to be unfair to Murdoch," he said, because "he's the most far seeing media entrepreneur of our time" who "put The Simpsons on air" and thereby "showed he could understand the information consumer".

The contrast with the treatment of a genuine pioneer of a revolution in journalism, who dared take on rampant America, providing truth about how great power works, is telling. A drip-feed of hostility runs through the Guardian, making it difficult for readers to interpret the WikiLeaks phenomenon and to assume other than the worst about its founder. David Leigh, the Guardian's "investigations editor", told journalism students at City University that Assange was a "Frankenstein monster" who "didn't use to wash very often" and was "quite deranged". When a puzzled student asked why he said that, Leigh replied, "Because he doesn't understand the parameters of conventional journalism. He and his circle have a profound contempt for what they call the mainstream media". According to Leigh, these "parameters" were exemplified by Bill Keller when, as editor of the New York Times, he co-published the WikiLeaks disclosures with the Guardian. Keller, said Leigh, was "a seriously thoughtful person in journalism" who had to deal with "some sort of dirty, flaky hacker from Melbourne".




Last November, the "seriously thoughtful" Keller boasted to the BBC that he had taken all WikiLeaks' war logs to the White House so the government could approve and edit them. In the run-up to the Iraq war, the New York Times published a series of now notorious CIA-inspired claims claiming weapons of mass destruction existed. Such are the "parameters" that have made so many people cynical about the so-called mainstream media.

Leigh went as far as to mock the danger that, once extradited to America, Assange would end up wearing "an orange jump suit". These were things "he and his lawyer are saying in order to feed his paranoia". The "paranoia" is shared by the European Court of Human Rights which has frozen "national security" extraditions from the UK to the US because the extreme isolation and long sentences defendants can expect amounts to torture and inhuman treatment.

I asked Leigh why he and the Guardian had adopted a consistently hostile towards Assange since they had parted company. He replied, "Where you, tendentiously, claim to detect a 'hostile toe', others might merely see well-informed objectivity."

It is difficult to find well-informed objectivity in the Guardian's book on Assange, sold lucratively to Hollywood, in which Assange is described gratuitously as a "damaged personality" and "callous". In the book, Leigh revealed the secret password Assange had given the paper. Designed to protect a digital file containing the US embassy cables, its disclosure set off a chain of events that led to the release of all the files. The Guardian denies "utterly" it was responsible for the release. What, then, was the point of publishing the password?

The Guardian's Hackgate exposures were a journalistic tour de force; the Murdoch empire may disintegrate as a result. But, with or without Murdoch, a media consensus that echoes, from the BBC to the Sun, a corrupt political, war-mongering establishment. Assange's crime has been to threaten this consensus: those who fix the "parameters" of news and political ideas and whose authority as media commissars is challenged by the revolution of the internet.




The prize-winning former Guardian journalist Jonathan Cook has experience in both worlds."The media, at least the supposedly left-wing component of it," he writes, "should be cheering on this revolution... And yet, mostly they are trying to co-opt, tame or subvert it [even] to discredit and ridicule the harbingers of the new age... Some of [campaign against Assange] clearly reflects a clash of personalities and egos, but it also looks suspiciously like the feud derives from a more profound ideological struggle [about] how information should be controlled a generation hence [and] the gatekeepers maintaining their control." johnpilger.com


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And In Contrast To Justice Clarence Thomas....

We have this.

Somehow they manage to call it justice.




Five Years for Pot? Multiple Sclerosis and Medical Marijuana Patient Faces Bail Hearing Tomorrow

John Ray Wilson has multiple sclerosis, a disease, like many others, for which medical marijuana is proven to be incredibly beneficial: It helps to control symptoms like pain and spasticity and slows the disease's disabling progression.

The medical benefits of marijuana have prompted many states to allow MS patients access to the plant. For John Ray Wilson, however, the legislation came too late. Tomorrow, Somerset County, New Jersey Judge Marino will determine whether Wilson will be released from prison or wait, incarcerated, until the Supreme Court reviews his case.

In August of 2008, Wilson was arrested in New Jersey for growing 17 marijuana plants. Two years later, in January of 2010, New Jersey legalized marijuana for multiple sclerosis patients. Shockingly, around the same time as the new legislation, a judge convicted Wilson of marijuana "manufacturing." Even more disturbing is that Wilson was barred from disclosing his MS diagnosis in court. The judge gave him the minimum sentence for growing marijuana - five years behind bars.

After five weeks in jail, Wilson was released on bond, pending the results of his appeal to an astounding five-year prison sentence. But in late July of this year, an Appellate Court upheld Wilson's conviction, despite the recent medical marijuana laws (have not yet taken effect) that would qualify Wilson to legally use marijuana. He was incarcerated on August 24, 2011.

According to a press release,

Attorney William Buckman has filed a petition to the State Supreme Court. The bail hearing tomorrow will determine if Wilson can remain with his family as the Supreme Court appeal is considered. Mr. Buckman’s office reports that the State intends to vigorously oppose the release of Wilson.

“New Jersey already has some of the most draconian laws in the nation with respect to marijuana, costing taxpayers outrageous sums to incarcerate nonviolent, otherwise responsible individuals-- as well as in this case -- the sick and infirm,” said Buckman. “As it stands, the case now allows a person who grows marijuana to be exposed to up to 20 years in jail, even if that marijuana is strictly for his or her own medical use. No fair reading of the law would ever sanction this result.”


Wilson told NBC he used marijuana because alternative medications were too expensive. He is currently incarcerated at the Central Reception and Assignment Facility for the New Jersey State Prison system in Trenton, New Jersey. According to the press release, Wilson's father, Ray, says Wilson is scheduled for transfer to maximum security Northern State Prison in Newark, NJ, where he may serve the remainder of his ludicrous five-year sentence.
Alternet
Clarence Thomas

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Seventeen Years Not Enough For Jose Padilla: Wake Up America!


Although it might be little-known among the American people, the Jose Padilla case is quite possibly the most important legal case in our lifetime in terms of the freedom that Americans lost on 9/11.

That has to qualify as one of the most definitive sentences of the last decade.

And what makes the case of Jose Padila truly horrifying is, that apart from a few lone voices that spoke out at the time, there was a deafening silence from people throughout the country as the Bush regime and the US Government disappeared Padilla, a US citizen, into a US Navy brig in South Carolina, and tortured the fellow for years until he was nothing more than a quivering wreck of a man.

And eventually, the same regime and government, for cheap political gain, had the shameless audacity to stand the man before an equally shameless judge and an even more shameless jury, and somehow call it justice when they sentenced this victim of political manoeuvring to seventeen years incarceration.

Well it seems now, that in certain quarters, Padilla's seventeen year sentence wasn't long enough.

Perhaps though, there is one little bit of justice to come out of all this; perhaps the good Christian folk of America, by their collective silence, earned the police state that they now live in.

I could do no better than to offer something equally definitive, James Spader describing the lethargy of the American people regarding the erosion of their rights and liberties since September eleventh. And you could do no better than to listen to it.

Then perhaps after watching that light hearted clip and read the article in question, you might wish to watch the real horror story of Jose Padilla at the one beacon of light that you can rely on in this land of darkness, Democracy Now.

I cannot stress enough how much of a ''must watch'' the Democracy Now show really is. If you harbour any thoughts that America is somehow a noble place or in itself a noble concept, then this is a show for you. You won't harbour such thoughts for very much longer.

If having done so, you might then realise why I can't join the present bleeding hearts and get all pissy over the treatment of Bradley Manning.

You may however, wish to do a little research of your own, might I suggest somewhere to start, Google, jose padilla+stockholm syndrome.

Jose Padilla has his own tag on this blog.





Losing Liberty for Security with the Padilla Case

By Jacob G. Hornberger
September 23, 2011

"FFF" -- The Jose Padilla case is back in the news. The 11th Circuit Court of Appeals has ruled that the 17-year sentence handed down by the presiding district judge was too lenient. The court has ordered the case remanded to the judge with instructions to consider a much higher sentence.

Although it might be little-known among the American people, the Jose Padilla case is quite possibly the most important legal case in our lifetime in terms of the freedom that Americans lost on 9/11.

The greatest power that any dictator can have is the power to seize a person, cart him away to a prison, concentration camp, or dungeon and keep him there for as long as the dictator wants and to torture, abuse, humiliate, or even execute him, perhaps after some sort of kangaroo trial. Of course, this is not to suggest that the dictator does these things himself. He has a powerful military, an intelligence force, or national police who loyally carry out his orders to do these things.

That’s the power that Middle East dictators have had for decades, justifying them under emergencies dealing with drugs and terrorists. In fact, Egyptian dictator Hosni Mubarak, a longtime friend and ally of the U.S. government and whose military and the U.S. military worked closely together, wielded this emergency power for some 30 years, given that drugs and terrorism continued threatening the national security of Egypt during that period of time. It was that emergency power, among others, that the Egyptian protestors wanted eliminated. Even after Mubarak’s fall, the military regime in Egypt refuses to relinquish this extraordinary dictatorial power over the citizenry. .

That is the power that the president of the United States now wields — the same power that the U.S.-supported dictator Hosni Mubarak wielded — the same power that dictators have wielded throughout history. President Obama, like President Bush before him, now wields the emergency, post-9/11 power to use U.S. military forces to take any American into custody, hold him indefinitely, and torture and abuse him.

Are there any conditions on the exercise of such power? One — that the person be labeled a terrorist by the military, the CIA, or the president. Once that label is affixed onto the person, the dictatorial power is unleashed.

How did such extraordinary dictatorial power come to be acquired by the president of the United States in what purports to be a free country? No, not through legislative enactment, as Mubarak did it. And no, not through constitutional amendment, as our system requires. Bush simply decreed after 9/11 that he now wielded such power as a military commander in chief waging war — the “war on terrorism.” In such a war, the entire world is the battlefield and the enemy can consist of anyone, including American citizens, U.S. officials said.

Would the courts actually uphold the assumption of such extraordinary dictatorial power? They already have. That’s what the Padilla case was all about. That’s why statists have celebrated ever since that case was decided. They knew what many Americans do not know — that the ruling in Padilla didn’t just apply to him but rather to all Americans.

Jose Padilla is an American citizen. He was taken into custody and labeled a terrorist. The president removed him from the jurisdiction of the federal courts and placed him in the custody of military officials, who promptly placed him in isolation into a military dungeon, where they kept him for more than 3 years. As a result of the torture, the likelihood is that Padilla has suffered permanent mental damage.

At no time did any military officials refuse to participate in the arrest, incarceration, and torture of Jose Padilla. Like in Egypt under Mubarak, the military loyally followed orders to treat this American citizen in that way. In their minds, the troops were “defending our freedoms” when they loyally obeyed the orders of the president to do this to Padilla.

As Padilla’s petition for writ of habeas corpus was working its way through the federal courts, government lawyers were telling federal judges that national security turned on treating Padilla as an enemy combatant rather than a criminal defendant.

But it was all a lie. As soon as the government received a favorable ruling from the court of appeals, the government immediately converted Padilla to criminal defendant status. The military, after loyally following orders to treat Padilla as an enemy combatant, loyally followed orders to release him to the jurisdiction of the federal courts.

What was the benefit to the government of doing this shifting and maneuvering? U.S. officials knew that they now had a federal appellate court holding saying that the president of the United States, together with his military forces, now wields this extraordinary power. Since Padilla was appealing that holding to the Supreme Court, there was the possibility that the Supreme Court could overturn the ruling. By quickly converting Padilla to criminal-defendant status, the Supreme Court was denied jurisdiction to consider the case. That left the Court of Appeals decision intact.

That means that the government now wields the legal authority under the Padilla decision to do to Americans what they did to Padilla. All they need is the right “crisis” and they’ll have the same power that Mubarak had — the power that dictators throughout history have wielded.

Sure, the Supreme Court could ultimately overturn that ruling but that would take a long time, most like more than a year — plenty of time to brutally torture and abuse people labeled as “terrorists.”

It’s been said that 9/11 changed the world. That is most definitely true when it came to the president’s dictatorial power to arrest, incarcerate, torture, and abuse Americans. Just ask Jose Padilla, who was treated as an “enemy combatant, where he was subjected to indefinite incarceration and torture by the military, and ended up as a criminal defendant with a 17-year sentence that has now been adjudged as too lenient. ICH

Jacob Hornberger is founder and president of the Future of Freedom Foundation.

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EXCLUSIVE: An Inside Look at How U.S. Interrogators Destroyed the Mind of Jose Padilla

Democracy Now
A jury began deliberations on Wednesday in Miami in the case of Jose Padilla, the Brooklyn-born man once accused by the Bush administration of plotting to set off a dirty bomb inside the United States.

The FBI initially arrested him in Chicago in 2002 after he got off a plane from Europe. For a month he was held as a material witness. Then Attorney General John Ashcroft made a dramatic announcement–the U.S. government had disrupted an al-Qaeda plot to set off nuclear dirty bombs inside the United States. At the center of the plot, Ashcroft alleged, was Padilla.

President Bush then classified Jose Padilla as an enemy combatant, stripping him of all his rights. He was transferred to a Navy brig in South Carolina where he was held in extreme isolation for forty three months.

The Christian Science Monitor reported: "Padilla’s cell measured nine feet by seven feet. The windows were covered over... He had no pillow. No sheet. No clock. No calendar. No radio. No television. No telephone calls. No visitors. Even Padilla’s lawyer was prevented from seeing him for nearly two years."

According to his attorneys, Padilla was routinely tortured in ways designed to cause pain, anguish, depression and ultimately the loss of will to live.

His lawyers have claimed that Padilla was forced to take LSD and PCP to act as a sort of truth serum during his interrogations.

Up until last year the Bush administration maintained it had the legal right to hold Padilla without charge forever. But when faced with a Supreme Court challenge, President Bush transferred Padila out of military custody to face criminal conspiracy charges.

On January 3, 2006 the government charged him and two others with criminal conspiracy. The government claims Padilla, along with his mentor, Adham Amin Hassoun, and Hassoun’s colleague, Kifah Wael Jayyousi, conspired to commit murder abroad and to provide material support toward that goal.

Since May the men have been on trial in Miami. According to the Miami Herald, the overall case against Padilla is riddled with circumstantial evidence. Much of the case is built around an alleged form Padilla filled out to attend an al-Qaeda training camp.

Prosecutors have introduced no evidence of personal involvement by Padilla in planning or carrying out any violent acts. There is no mention of Padilla–plotting to set off a dirty bomb. Despite this, prosecutors are seeking a life sentence for Padilla.

Questions have also been raised about whether Padilla was mentally fit to stand trial. His lawyers and family say he has become clearly mentally ill after being held in isolation.

Today, we are joined by one of the few medical experts who has spent time with Padilla since his arrest five years ago. Forensic psychiatrist Dr. Angela Hegarty spent 22 hours interviewing Padilla last year to determine the state of his mental health. She concluded that Padilla lacked the capacity to assist in his own defense. Dr. Angela Hegarty is assistant professor of clinical psychiatry at Columbia University. Transcript or must watch/listen, click on Real Video stream or Real Audio stream, the thing won't embed.



Glenn Greenwald joins Thom Hartmann. The collapse of our judicial system in America is even more evident in the recent case of Jose Padilla, the man labeled as the "Dirty Bomber"! I'll tell you how our courts inflicted unequal justice on an American citizen.


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