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Photo of protestors

Supporters of the hunger strike in the supermax unit at Ohio State Penitentiary rallied in Columbus Tuesday, April 14, calling upon prisons director Gary Mohr to order the restoration of the inmates' constitutionally protected recreation and religious rights.  Those rights had been taken away as collective punishment for the misdeeds of one prisoner.

   The month-long hunger strike in the supermax unit at Ohio State Penitentiary largely ended the next day, after attorneys Alice Lynd and Staughton Lynd, and one of the strikers negotiated with the warden. The prison reportedly agreed to some of the demands of the strikers – changing policies for phone calls and restoring religious services. The demand for rescinding a new restrictive recreation policy, however, was not met. Officials denied a “negotiated settlement.” The hunger strike started with more than 30 prisoners; until Wednesday, five were still refusing meals, all of whom had lost 20 to 30 pounds in the course of the strike and some experienced medical problems.  One of the five continues to strike, over concerns not yet made public.

Cartoon of police holding man on ground

Once upon a time if you were stopped by the police, and for whatever reason, found yourself being the victim of police brutality, even with witnesses, you would lose in a court of law based on the “word” of the police officer(s) involved.
  If the police officer, after he shot a “suspect,” called in to the station to report “Man down, man shot, he took my Taser,” it would be assumed by the dispatcher that the officer needed back-up and shot the “suspect,” eight times, in self-defense. The news and media reports would tell the public that the “suspect” died as a result of the police officer using “necessary force” to protect himself. Although many of us who heard the police explanation and the news reports didn’t believe we were getting the truth, there wasn’t much we could do or say about it and eventually, like all of the other times, the story would fade away.

Rickenbacker airport logo

Quietly and gradually since the 1980s, a bastion of free-market excess on Franklin County’s southernmost border has been selling-out the American worker while making piles upon piles of money for a select few. It is called “Free Trade Zone #138,” and its main operations are located at Rickenbacker Inland Port, which of course was once Rickenbacker Air Force Base.
  In 2013, a record breaking $6.3 billion in merchandise was imported into Free Trade Zone #138, ranking it in the top-10 of the nation’s 177 Free Trade Zones or FTZs, this according to the Columbus Regional Airport Authority, the zone’s operator and federal grantee. The growth of foreign-made goods brought into FTZ #138 has been staggering over the last decade. In 2006, just $250 million was processed.

Earth with Earth Day banner

What if Columbus was a Zero Waste City by 2040? Sound impossible? Interestingly enough, a city with about 30,000 more people aims to reach that goal by 2020. San Francisco has a landfill diversion rate of over 80 percent. A “green team” is employed to ensure residents and businesses help clean up their city and a massive composting program was created to reuse food waste that then is used as fertilizer. Green jobs and nutritious food would be a win-win arrangement to make Columbus more green.
  To some, a single object that best symbolizes towering landfills could be the notorious styrofoam take-out container, but the greatest image for throw-away culture today is the pitiful, plastic grocery bag. Columbus is considering measures to place a surcharge on such bags or to even, potentially, ban them. If the capital city adopts such initiatives, we will consciously decide to further care for our neighborhoods and natural landscape and to move towards zero waste.

Stagnate to Striding

Dale Phillips with arm in sling from tendon injury

Are innocent citizens pulled over, beaten and arrested by Columbus Police?
  Meet Dale Phillips. He claims he was roughed up, thrown to the ground, maced directly into his eyeballs and violently assaulted resulting in a ripped bicep tendon. His so-called “crime” – trying to back his car up to allow a police cruiser to proceed through an intersection. The charge -- ironically, “obstructing official business.”

 

Lightning flashed across Kentucky skies a few nights ago. "I love storms," said my roommate, Gypsi, her eyes bright with excitement. Thunder boomed over the Kentucky hills and Atwood Hall, here in Lexington, KY's federal prison. I fell asleep thinking of the gentle, haunting song our gospel choir sings: "It's over now, It's over now. I think that I can make it. The storm is over now."

I awoke the next morning feeling confused and bewildered. Why had the guards counted us so many times? "That was lightning," Gypsi said, giggling. The guards shine flashlight in our rooms three times a night, to count us, and I generally wake up each time; that night the storm was also a culprit.

As the day continued we saw large pools of water had collected at each entrance to Atwood Hall. Prisoners from drought-ridden areas wish they could collect the rainwater and send it home. Fanciful notions, but of the kind, at least, that can help us remember priorities. I suppose it's wise, though, to focus on what can be fixed. The elevator here, for instance.

The cellphone video “reality footage” just doesn’t stop. Black men are shot, killed, handcuffed. The shortcomings of their prematurely terminated lives soon become public knowledge, vaguely justifying the shocking wrongness of the officer’s action — always poisoning the grief.

The family, the loved ones, the sympathetic sector of the American (and global) public demand “justice.” Even when they get it, or sort of get it, in the form of an arrest or some official expression of regret, the victim — the human being they valued — is still dead.

Nothing changes.

At least it seems as though nothing changes, but of course change, in the form of outrage, revulsion, disbelief — and, ultimately, awareness — is stirring in the collective mind. How it will manifest in the form of specific social policy is, of course, unknown. The status quo, after all, has plenty of defenders — and they’re armed.

Andreas Schüller is an attorney on the staff of the European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights. He is the lead attorney on a suit being brought by ECCHR and Reprieve against the German government on behalf of three Yemeni survivors of a U.S. drone strike. The case will be heard May 27th in Cologne.

Blackwater guards are in one incident at least finally being sentenced to prison for murder today. But their boss will be speaking at the University of Virginia on Wednesday.

Jeremy Scahill, author of Blackwater, visited Charlottesville 8 years ago and explained some of what's wrong with private mercenaries.

He said that the Pentagon is useless to politicians because it doesn't make campaign "contributions". But when you take a big chunk of that enormous military budget and give it to private companies, you free it up to come back (some portion of it) to politicians every campaign season.

Thus you trade higher costs and less oversight for a built-in generator of systemic pressure for more wars. It's win-win-win.

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